Page 5 of Surviving the Merge
I turned to her and confessed, “There is no line with Damon. Never has been.”
“How’s Blake’s therapy going? Without giving specific details.”
That segue made me leery. She’d never asked about Blake’s progress before. I sat across from her again. “I’m not sure how well it can be going. He keeps more pertinent information from his therapist than I keep from you.” I offered a quirk of my lips to soften the blow of my words.
“Well, trust takes time, and we therapists are a patient bunch.” Her eyes shone with mirth.
“Blake’s afraid. I can’t say that I blame him, but we can’t keep going on like this, that's for sure.”
“Maybe we can consider group sessions at some point?”
“Yeah, maybe...”
* * *
Loungingon the couch at the condo, watching over the storm outside, doubt and uncertainty over what we’d been recently doing plagued my mind.Was I ruining everything? Being selfish? Allowing the past to come between us?
No. I didn’t think so.We could make this work, I tried to convince myself. Besides, the time for second-guessing had passed. The proverbial Pandora's Boxhad already been opened.
I’d busied myself with work at The OBH—The Oregon Ballet House. When I wasn’t working as Ballet Master, I ran or slept. Anything to keep my mind off Blake and avoid going home to the emptiness. I spent long hours going over the routines with the dancers. We were preparing for our biggest show yet. A rendition ofLa Bayadère. Props needed to be approved, costumes needed to be made and the music fine-tuned.
Swinging my bag over my shoulder on my way out of the theatre the other day, I’d stopped short upon seeing some of the dancers lingering around outside. They’d been, apparently, waiting for me.
“Hey, Justin, we’re heading downtown to grab dinner from that new Italian spot. Interested?” Mia had asked. Jacob and Nina exchanged a look.
“Maybe next time,” I’d said. Mia didn’t hide her disappointment. She hadn’t been with the company long. Jacob and Nina already knew what to expect. I often wondered why they bothered. Maybe to shift the guilt that came with not asking onto the person that always said no. Well, it worked.Every single time.
Now on day four, my bruises had mostly faded, but I kept a little makeup on them to prevent questioning looks and unwanted words of concern.
No longer could I hide from the sadness caused by Blake’s absence. It found me in my sleep, shaking me awake after small bouts of hard-earned slumber. It manifested in the creak of my bones after sitting in one spot for hours praying for his return and then finally deciding to move a muscle.
It’d been five years of just the two of us. It wasn’t easy getting to where we were... where we werebeforeDamon came back.But we’d found our rhythm. Our happiness.
But did we really?
As the day drew to a close, I found myself forming a plan to track him down when I heard a key in the door. I released the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.
Blake’s home.
I wanted to launch myself over the back of the sofa and run into his arms. But I remained seated and counted down.
The door closed, and the bolt slid into place, sealing us in. His keys were tossed into the metal dish on the table in the foyer. The sound of fabric being removed and hung on the coat rack reached my ears. The squeak of wet shoes being toed off traveled the distance separating us.
While he stalled, I focused on tempering my breathing.
Eventually approaching, he kneeled in front of me and brought a hand to my cheek. I nuzzled into him. “Blake?”
“Shhh, not now,” he whispered.
Familiar with that look in his eye, I allowed the flimsy throw covering me to slide away from my bare body. The rise of desire in his stare and the hitch of his breath made my skin pebble all over.
Blake reached up and unwrapped my bun. My hair tumbled around my face and down my back. “I love you,” he said. “Always you, and only you.”
“I love you too,” I replied, fisting my hands in his hair. “Always you.” If it was noticed by him that I didn’t repeat his last sentiment, he didn’t say.
“I need to reclaim you.” Said as a statement but held the undertone of a question.
Without thinking, I answered, “Yes.”
