Chapter 9 - HE ASKED THIS TIME
Clara finished her first semester.
Damian did not interfere.
Mostly.
He sent no tuition.
No car.
No apartment.
He did send photographs of the twins.
Too many.
Oliver wearing oatmeal.
Owen asleep inside a laundry basket.
Clara called immediately.
“Why is he in a laundry basket?”
“Long story.”
“Damian.”
“He climbed in.”
At fourteen months, the boys began walking.
At fifteen, falling professionally.
At sixteen, saying fragments.
Oliver’s first clear word:
“Da.”
Damian was insufferable for three days.
Owen’s:
“Cara.”
Clara cried.
Damian pretended not to.
Six months after Clara left employment, Damian asked her to dinner.
Not:
Come over.
Not:
I need you.
He called.
“Clara.”
“Yes?”
“Would you have dinner with me Friday?”
She smiled into the phone.
“You practiced.”
“Nico threatened me.”
“Healthy workplace.”
“Seven?”
“Why?”
Damian paused.
Then answered properly.
“Because I like you.”
“And?”
“Because I have liked you for months and deliberately done nothing about it.”
“Painful?”
“Terrible.”
She laughed.
“Yes.”
Their first date happened in Providence.
Clara chose the restaurant.
Damian did not own it.
She checked.
He found that offensive.
They talked about her mother.
The nursing program.
His father.
The twins.
Not Victoria beyond what was necessary.
Not Mercer.
Trauma did not deserve the entire table.
At the end, Damian walked Clara to her car.
“Can I kiss you?”
She looked at him.
“The great Damian Costello asks permission?”
“I have been heavily retrained.”
“By whom?”
“You.”
She smiled.
“Yes.”
He kissed her.
Slowly.
Then stepped back.
No claim.
May you like
No promise.
Just a beginning.
