Page 30 of Last Summer

She smiled lovingly. “It’syouI want, Damien.” More than anything. More than kids, she silently reaffirmed, hoping to convince herself that was truly how she felt.

CHAPTER 8

March 2019

Ella smacks the alarm squawking 5:00 a.m. and rolls out of bed. After a visit to the bathroom, she brushes her teeth and slips into her running attire, grabbing up her Nikes.

Damien waits for her at the front door. “Morning, sweetheart.” He kisses her solidly on the mouth with a groan that sends a delicious ripple through her. “Let’s skip the run and go back to bed.”

“Uh-uh.” She pushes him away. “Run first.” They didn’t make it out the door yesterday. Ever since Lynn released her for full activity, including bedroom aerobics, Damien hasn’t kept his hands off her. That was two months ago. The sex has been great. Okay, it’s been mind blowing. But she feels like it’s become an excuse not to talk, which they haven’t done much of in four months, not the kind of talking they should be doing. Either he’s still too raw about the accident or he’s too busy with work. Whichever, Ella feels like she’s been left hanging. Her memories haven’t returned. Looking at photos of her pregnant self and staying immersed with familiar people in familiar places as Dr. Allington had suggested when she was released from the hospital hasn’t helped at all. She doesn’t know anything more today about what led up to the accident and what happened at the hospital afterward than she did last November. Only Damien knows what made her leave their condo that night and get into her car, and he’s not talking.

He also doesn’t want to try for another baby.

At her eight-week post-op appointment, Lynn asked if Ella wanted to go back on birth control. Ella had been excited to discuss with Damien the prospect of getting pregnant again. But he was adamant. No way. He wasn’t ready. How could she think about another baby when the loss of Simon still gutted him? What if something happened to the baby again? Or worse, what if he lost her instead? Did she have any idea what that did to him, seeing her bruised and battered in the hospital bed?

Lynn had also asked her about the psychiatrist. Had she been?

“Once,” Ella answered. Alone.

The session hadn’t helped. Ella spent an hour expressing her frustrations about Damien and her sadness over losing Simon, but she couldn’t answer most questions the therapist posed. Why did they decide to have a baby when her husband was clear he didn’t want a child? What changed his mind? Where was she going when she got into the accident? Had they been arguing, and if so, about what?

“On and on the questions went. I couldn’t answer a single one,” Ella explained. “I tried to get Damien to come to a follow-up session, but between his work schedule and his excuses?” She shrugged, tugged up the paper examination gown that had slipped off her shoulder. “I gave up. I stopped asking him to come and I didn’t go back.”

Lynn touched her arm. “I’ve seen husbands take several years before they can talk about it, let alone try for another kid again. It’s difficult for them to watch their wives lose a child.”

Ella nodded. She wanted to be sympathetic to Damien’s feelings, but she was the one who carried Simon. She’d do it again given the chance. Looking at her hands in her lap, she picked at a loose hangnail. “Did I tell you Simon was an accident? I think I forgot to take a pill.”

“No. I didn’t know. But there are other options besides the pill.” Lynn rolled her stool to the end of the exam table and motioned for Ella to scoot her rear to the edge and lie back. She peeked around Ella’s raised knees. “Options you don’t have to remember to take each day.”

“Can I think about it?”

Lynn smiled. “Take all the time you need.”

Damien unbolts the front door, bringing Ella back to the task at hand. She laces up her shoes. Damien is scrolling through his email. He frowns.

“Everything all right?” she asks. Four clients have left PDN since January, in addition to Royal Gateway. Damien had said his trip to London last November was a waste. He wasn’t able to convince them to stay. He’s found the losses to be more than frustrating. They’re personal. Because each business has moved to CyberSeal, his father’s company.

“Not sure.” The lines between his brows deepen as he reads the memo, swearing as he closes his email and launches his music app. He drops one of his ear pods in Ella’s hand so that they can listen together. “I’ll deal with it later. Ready?”

“Yeah.” She plugs the pod in her ear and Damien brings up their Tuesday playlist, a mix of U2, Gang of Youths, and other alternative rock music that gets them fired up.

They run a seven-mile route through the city streets, making their way to the Embarcadero, where they follow the wharf. The air is damp but the sky clears as the sun breaks over the city skyline and spills its golden light.

As they run, Ella plots her day. She has to drive to Sacramento to interview the governor over lunch, and on her way back, she hopes to finally nail down the double interview with Emily Blunt and John Krasinski about their latest project. With any luck, she’ll be back in the city by dinner with Damien, maybe even surprise him at the office with Thai takeout. He’s been wound tight, working late hours and traveling almost nonstop trying to retain his clients.

They reach the final stretch on their route and head back up the hill toward home. Damien changes the playlist and Eminem blasts her ear.

“Really?” She rips out the pod, knowing it’ll immediately stop the music.

But Damien doesn’t stop. He picks up speed and Ella has to work to keep up with him. She hollers his name, but he doesn’t answer. He doesn’t slow down. The concrete between them expands and the music cuts out, her pod losing the connection with Damien’s phone. He’s a block ahead and Ella eases to a saner pace, letting him work off whatever’s steaming in his head. Besides, the last hill home is a killer.

By the time she rounds the corner to their building, Ella’s calves burn and her side cramps. Damien’s waiting outside, pacing the sidewalk to cool off.

“Lost you back there,” he says when he sees her.

“The hell, Damien?” She gasps, hands on knees, catching her breath. “What’s wrong with you?”

He has the audacity to look confused. Ella shakes her head, disappointed, and glances at her watch. It’s getting late and she needs to shower and get on the road. There isn’t time to get into it with him. There never seems to be enough time.

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