Page 92 of Damon

Before leaving, I place the shoebox in my hands with every week’s wages he paid me onto the counter. He glances at the object then his focus returns to the front. “I never wanted your money,” I tell him, then leave.

Chapter thirty-three

Aviemore, Scotland

April 2023

Emma

Aviemore. A small town in the Scottish Highlands which has offered much-needed distance these past three months. The tranquility, wildlife, and vast space have provided the perfect environment for me to heal, or to start to. To live here is to be surrounded by color, fresh air, and time, three things I needed much of. Coming here has been the ideal location to find myself, surrounded by nothing.

Harrison rented a small white cottage with a traditional slate roof close enough that I could walk into the main street. It has a roaring log fire and a wild garden filled with daisies and thistles. When I stand outside and watch the smoke waft from the chimney into the air, it’s like being in a storybook. I almost expect a little girl with a red hood to come around the corner with a basket of flowers and knock on the door.

The owners, a retired army major named Lance and his wife, Katie, have been most welcoming. She’s around twenty years older than him, but the love between them is so visible it blinds you. As I watch them interact, my heart both lifts and breaks. They have the connection in life that everyone craves. When they look at each other, there’s no doubt who their choice to live life with is.

In my first few days, Katie took the time to show me around town and engage in light conversation. We haven’t become friends, as such, but she’s someone I enjoy catching up with day to day. Her presence has made my time here pleasant. Other than her, I’ve kept to myself. I will always return to London, so making long-term connections isn’t something I need.

My days are filled with study and work. I speak to the office each day; they send files, and we discuss ongoing cases. Harrison has asked me to assist him with an upcoming defense case—a billionaire playboy who’s being prosecuted for murdering his father. From the outside, it looks clear-cut; he was found with the knife in his hand, kneeling over the victim’s body. But as always, every argument can be won, so we are doing our best to create a watertight case to convince the jury otherwise. The trial is set for June, and I have to return by then to be in court. The prospect is both exciting and terrifying. My career is in gear and moving onward—this is going to happen. I will be a lawyer and a good one.

Damon and Annie play on my mind daily. The loss of them still cuts deep. There has been no contact between us, but Harrison updates me on Annie’s shenanigans. I’ve seen a handful of photos. She’s already changed so much in a matter of months. The reality of missing out on her life is depressing, but in this moment, I have no other option but to wait. Maybe, in the future, I’ll be able to make contact and at least speak to her once so I can tell her how much she means to me.

Her father is never mentioned. Harrison keeps our conversation firmly on my work and my well-being. Any question I ask is deflected with a “he’s fine.” After making it clear that he would be providing me with no information, I gave up inquiring. There was nothing to ask—Damon had made his feelings clear on New Year’s morning. No matter how we felt, we would not be together. The line was drawn, and I was not going to beg him to reconsider. Wanting him and needing him are two different things, and I don’t need him to succeed.

So, tomorrow I am heading off on my first date with a guy who works in the local ski center. Aviemore is a winter ski resort for the Cairngorm mountains. Snow is getting thin on the ground now it’s the end of March, but some avid skiers still visit.

Arlo isn’t my usual type. He’s wild and free in his early twenties, the complete opposite of Damon. With no life plan, he glides from place to place, working as he goes. We met in the local store while I was searching for fresh milk. I’d been scouring the fridge cabinets, and I was on my knees pushing tubs of butter out of the way when he came up behind me.

“Hi Emma,” he said, jovial. “Do you need any help? What are you looking for?”

I’d clambered to my feet then spun to face him. “How do you know my name?” I hissed, panicked by his knowledge.

“Everyone knows your name,” he said casually. “Aviemore is a small place and when someone arrives, news travels fast.” He grinned then flicked a dreadlock over his shoulder. His dark brown eyes held mine, and butterflies unexpectedly fluttered in my stomach. He was dressed in baggy jeans and a striped sweatshirt which looked as if it should have been thrown out years before, but he seemed happy, and that was appealing. “Plus, it isn’t often someone as pretty as you arrive in town.”

“Um…thank you,” I stammered, taken aback by his compliment. He’d held out his hand, and I’d shaken it. Then he’d said he was pleased to finally meet me and left.

We bumped into each other a few times in different places over the weeks after, always stopping for a short chat, before saying goodbye and going on our way. He was fun to talk to, full of funny stories and escapades from the slopes. A far cry from the cases I work on day to day about murder and rape.

Then today, after seeing him while out walking, he asked me to go for a drink tomorrow evening, and I said yes. Why not? I deserve to have some fun, and a man the complete opposite of the one I lost may be a good solution.

***

Damon

The Level Boardroom

My friends and I are congregated as we always are on a Wednesday evening, around the boardroom table with beers in hand. These nights tend to be quieter now than they once were. With both Brenton dead and Moreno behind bars, we don’t have any ongoing extra work. Each of us is living our lives the best we can with the situations we have found ourselves in.

“How is the new nanny?” Connor asks. “Has your mother fired this one yet?”

“Not yet,” I reply with a smirk. “She can’t afford to if she wants to get back to her jet-setting lifestyle. My mother promised to stay until my childcare was sorted, but now I see she’s getting itchy feet.” They all snigger. My mother’s profession as a sex therapist is always a lively conversation, and one I would rather not have. “But overall, the nanny is well qualified, and Annie seems to like her.”

“And your in-laws?” Harrison prompts. I scowl at him, and he smiles.

“A work in progress,” I mutter. “But they’re keen to have a relationship with their granddaughter. We’re visiting once a week, and slowly things are less awkward, but it’ll take time. I’m not sure I can forgive them for how they treated us after Connie’s death and the accusations they made.”

“You did end up fucking the surrogate,” Hunter points out bluntly, and I glare at him. He laughs and wags a finger. “Watch your mouth, McKinney. Remember, I pay one hundred percent of your wages now. How is Emma, anyway?” he asks, turning to Harrison.

“She’s good. Working hard and studying. I think the space has been beneficial for her.”

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