Page 71 of Dirty Little Secrets
“You called me a nihilist before,” I say, cutting him off. Whatever he has to say can wait. He needs peace. He needs to know. “And while that may be true, you need to understand why.” I briefly glance up at the hospital. “Do you think those kids up there did something bad to deserve to be sick? Do you think that they’re being punished for something?”
A deep frown mars Damon’s brows. “Of course, not.”
“I agree,” I say, caressing his hand with my thumb. “Bad things don’t only happen to bad people, Damon. And good things don’t only happen to good people. It’s a nice story, a utopian idea that we’ve crafted, but it’s not true. Bad thingscanandwillhappen to good people. It happens a lot actually. Every day.” I tilt my head. “If you try and find meaning in every single unfortunate event that occurs in your life, you’re essentially searching for misery, Damon. There’s no rhyme or reason for why bad things happen. They just do. It’s life. And you have no control over it.”
His jaw clenches, tears welling. “You don’t understand, Emery. I am not a good person. I’ve done things…” His muscles tense with unspoken regret. “I?—”
“And yet you still have the same chances of attracting misfortune as a human whojustcame into this world,” I state sharply. “Bad things happen to everyone, Damon. Every single person. I’m not trying to sound harsh or cruel when I say this, but you arenotspecial. You are not a unique case. What happened to you and your family, Damon, could’ve happened to anyone. And the sooner you accept that, the sooner you can move on.”
“Ican’taccept that,” Damon grunts. “I can’t live in a world with no fucking meaning, Emery. I wasn’t raised like that. I wasn’t brought up to believe in nothing.”
“Neither was I, Damon, and I’m not saying that you’re not allowed to have beliefs. But maybe instead of believing that some unseen deity in the sky will smite you for every wrongdoing, believe in something more tangible. Something youdohave control over.” My thumb grazes his swollen knuckles, and I shake my head. “Believe in yourself, Damon. Believe that you have the ability to change your life, your attitude, your outlook, yourreactions. If you continue to live your life thinking you’re predisposed to bad shit happening, you’re just allowing bad shit to happen.”
Damon pauses in thought, gaze flitting across my solemn features. “Has it worked for you?” he asks, catching me off guard.
“What?”
He cocks his head as I frown. “Has this approach to life worked foryou?”
I blink. “Yes, of course it has.”
“Really?” he asks, frowning. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Emery, but you don’t strike me as an incredibly fulfilled and happy woman.”
I wince inwardly but keep my tone level, honest. “I never claimed to be happy, Damon, but I no longer tilt my head up to the sky and ask why bad things happento me. Why do you think I quit my job with such ease when you asked me to, huh? Why do you think I didn’t beg Tom to stay with me? Why didn’t I fight harder to keep dancing at Lux when you said I had to stop? Did you think it was because, deep down, it was what I wanted? No. It was because I accepted the hand I was being dealt. I accepted it and worked with it.”
Remorse clouded with shame flashes across his face. “I’m so sorry, Emery,” he whispers, teeth gritted as he looks at me with a desperate need for absolution. “I shouldn’t have?—”
“But you did,” I say with no venom, no vile contempt. “And I dealt with it, and nowyouneed to deal with it. Whatever it is that has you in a chokehold, deal with it and move on.”
“I will, Emery. I promise you I will,” he whispers, glancing down at our clasped hands, his fingers entwined with mine. As our skin touches, I can feel my blood warming, melting the ice, banishing the cold. “I want to make you happy, Emery.” His thumb presses hard into the soft flesh of my palm. “How do I do that?” His pained gaze flicks upward. “How do I make you laugh?”
I offer him a small smile. “Focus on your own happiness first, Damon. I’m content with the way I am.”
He subtly shakes his head. “Contentment is not enough. You deserve to bathe in bliss. I want…” He swallows. “I want to give you the world.”
Placing a hand on his cheek, I whisper, “Some people aren’t capable of reaching those levels of happiness, Damon. I’m not being difficult or giving you achallenge, I’m telling you the truth. This…” I pause. “This is my potential. I’ve reached it, and that’s okay.”
“I refuse to accept that,” he states, and I believe him. “I will show you.”
I chuckle at his faith. “I think it would be best to put your energy into fixing the current problem we have.” I squeeze his bruised knuckles. “The media is circling you like a vulture. You need to stop playing dead and make a statement.”
“I know,” he grumbles. “I have a meeting with Paras later today. I will handle it. I will?—”
“Well, if it isn’t Rocky Balboa.” Perfect timing. Damon’s grip tightens around my hand, and I’m grateful. As long as I’m holding his hand, it won’t go flying into Quinton’s face. We turn around, Quin sauntering toward us with an envelope tucked under his arm. He gives me a cheeky smile. “Good morning, darling. You look well rested.” His gaze snaps to Damon. “You on the other hand…” He clicks his tongue. “Ouch.”
“What are you doing here?” Damon asks, keeping a neutral tone.
“I’m here to deliver a check.” Quin smiles at him, gaze briefly flicking down to our clasped hands. If he’s upset, he conceals it well. “And you? What brings you to the children’s hospital? Needed a checkup, did we?”
“Damon’s here to apologize about his behavior last night,” I state, ignoring the instant glare from him. Gently wiggling myself out of his grip, I step in between Damon and Quin, acting like a human wall between two warring kingdoms. “And we were hoping that perhaps…” I clear my throat, pulling a check out of mypocket and handing it to Quin. “Perhaps with this donation, we could accompany you to the ribbon-cutting ceremony.”
Quinton perks up a brow. “Ten million dollars? Wow, how generous of Cavanaugh Industries.”
Damon stays silent behind me, but I can fucking feel his stewing anger. I ignore it. Ten million dollars to a multibillion-dollar corporation is pennies. His actions last night have created irrevocable harm that not even a premier PR team can fix. The only person that can fix it is Quinton.
“Well?” I ask Quin, tilting my head. “What do you say?”
He licks his lips, gaze floating across my perfectly painted face. “I feel as though you have put me at a disadvantage, darling. How am I to deny a request from such a beauty?”
