“And that was bad because…?”
“Because both of them hated me, that’s why,” I replied. “I thought I was doing a good thing but apparently I ruined both their lives since they both went to prom solo.”
“Sounds like you did the right thing to me. Even if your friends couldn’t see it that way.” Damon shrugged. “They were probably just too young to realize it but there’s nothing worse than staying in a relationship after its expiration date. Even worse when no one around you tells you the truth.”
“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”
“Maybe.” Damon shrugged again.
Maybe?
Every part of me was aching to follow that maybe down the nearest rabbit hole. It was moments like these where I remembered that I didn’t know a lot about Damon, that there was so much he could’ve been holding back.
“Damon, what was your last relationship like—”
“I think we should head back to the cabin,” Damon cut me off, possibly not even hearing my question. “Before the bear circles back first.”
“Right. Good idea.” I swallowed my other question down deep, as I watched Damon descend the ladder, just as confident as ever. I followed after him, my grip a little more balanced than before, like I was able to absorb some of Damon’s outdoorsy nature by osmosis.
A few minutes later and we were hand in hand again, making our way back to the cabin. With each step a new question bubbled up through my throat, threatening to make its way out of my mouth.
Damon, what were you like before me?
Damon, do you think this is a good idea? Us being like this?
Damon, will you call me? When I’m back home in Atlanta?
Damon, will you forget that I ever existed?
I managed to force the questions down, my palm perfectly fitting in Damon’s, so desperately wanting to stay in this moment for as long as I could.
10
DAMON
“Damon, what was your last relationship like?”
I’d heard the question loud and clear. It’d been ringing in my ears ever since Sam had broached the subject, my mind rattling with ways to answer it.
Because there was no easy way to answer it.
My last relationship, my last real relationship, had been with a woman.
Lisa Winters.
She’d been my high school sweetheart. We’d even been King and Queen of Homecoming, our pictures plastered all over the yearbooks, always the most popular and pristine. Back then, I thought I was living in a fairytale with her by my side, even if deep down, I’d wondered if we were only staying together because it was what people expected us to do.
Right out of high school, we’d made the all-too-familiar mistake of getting married right on the heels of turning eighteen. Of course, it didn’t last, not even when we moved to a beautiful house in a beautiful suburb, a gift from our parents. It took Lisa and me all of two years to realize we weren’t right for each other, with her going off to college and never looking back.
There wasn’t any drama between us, though. It was just over when it was over.
Still, I couldn’t pretend like the relationship crumbling to pieces right in front of me hadn’t done any lasting damage. I’d imagined marriage in Roanoke to be my greatest adventure yet, getting to explore my appreciation of nature out here in the wilderness, getting to connect it all to a love I’d convinced myself was going to last a lifetime, too.
The fairytale that never was.
I wasn’t ready to tell Sam about it. About how foolish I’d been. About how hopeful I’d been.
About how I’d pictured myself settling down with a woman.