Pretend You Love Me 7
The thing Damon hated most about the hospital is that it left him alone with his thoughts more than he wanted. He didn’t like it. It forced him to think of things he happily pushed to the back of his mind. At the current moment he was thinking about the child he had on the way. He never had a chance to sit and let himself be excited. Now that he had that chance all he felt was fear. He and Elena were far from being ok. Their child didn’t deserve to live in a home where they were walking on eggshells. It wasn’t fair.
In all honesty, Andie was right when she said he didn’t trust Elena. He didn’t. He was on edge all the time just waiting for her to revert back to the shell of herself and block him out. He was trying not to get his hopes up. Yet, she was acting different. There was something in her eyes and the way she spoke that made him wonder if things would really be different this time. The fact that she apologized about yelling at him changed everything.
“Hey, you ready to get out of here?” Elena said from the doorway. He was being released and he couldn’t be more ready. It had been a solid week he had to sit in that stupid, cold hospital room. The nurses helped him into a wheelchair and Elena gathered his belongings before leading them to the car.
“Home, sweet home,” he sighed as they pulled up to their house. He never imagined he’d be so happy to be in his house. It had been a place of such tension the past eight months, but little by little it was starting to feel like home again.
Elena was out of the car and at his door to help him in an instant.
“Elena, I can walk on my own, you know,” Damon said as she slung her arm around his waist to walk him up the stairs. After eight months of not touching and tentative words spoken, the sudden closeness of her was almost suffocating.
Embarrassed, she jerked her arm away from him. A slight pink tinted her cheeks and he immediately missed her close proximity.
“Right, I’m sorry,” she mumbled and followed him into the bedroom. “So the doctor said you are on strict bed rest for at least two weeks. You’re only allowed up to pee, eat, and shower,” Elena told him as he situated himself on the bed. She stood awkwardly near the foot of the bed, glancing at the space next to him longingly. His heart wanted her to climb onto the bed and snuggle into his side for the rest of the afternoon, yet his brain was comfortable with her staying on the other side of the room.
“You can go do what ever you need to do,” Damon offered. “You don’t need to babysit me, I’ll be ok.”
A flash of hurt crossed her features before she arranged them into a look of indifference.
“Ok, well holler if you need something,” Elena said stiffly before she turned and exited the room.
The moment she left, he missed her. He really needed a handle on his emotions. Everything was just so confusing. The first two years of their marriage had been absolute bliss. It was like they could read one another’s thoughts. They rarely fought and they never yelled. He was so used to it that when she pushed him away, it hit him hard. He didn’t know how to live, sometimes it felt like he no longer knew how to breathe. Yet, slowly, he got used to the distance, to the quiet. He didn’t like it, but he learned to live with it, everyday hoping it would change. Now he felt like he was adjusting all over again. Before they were always on solid ground, but the new status of their relationship confused the hell out of him. He didn’t know how to act or what he should say. He didn’t know if he could touch her or how he should look at her. It was all so unstable. He wanted her, he’d always want her, but he still wondered if she’d fall back into the darkness and push him away again.
So there they stood, somewhere lost in limbo. Neither knowing how to act or what to say. The distance grew the closer they got. It was a nasty game of tug of war. They longed for the same thing, but neither said a word.
Mornings in the bathroom while she was getting ready, he’d slip past her like he used to, but she’d long for him to wrap his arms around her waist and kiss her until she turned around to kiss him back. His arm would brush against and he’d ache to pull her into his arms and into the shower with him like he’d done so many times. Instead, their eyes would meet in the mirror and lock for a few moments before one would look away shyly as if it never happened. Then she’d watch him walk into the shower, missing the times he’d suggested they’d save water and shower together. And he’d glance at her back as she got ready, wanting nothing more than to close the distance between them and hold her like he wanted to; like he used to.
At night she’d join him in bed and turn the lights out. She’d roll on her side like she would always sleep and her body would buzz, just dying for him to form his body around hers and hold her in the safety of his arms. He’d stare at her small form under the covers and his arm would twitch with anticipation that she’d lace her hand with his and pull him into her. But night after night, it would be the same. They would be in the same bed, but an ocean between them. He wanted to just touch her, feel the warmth of her skin against his fingertips. She wanted to press her lips to his, feel the softness of them moving against hers. She wanted to run her fingers through his midnight locks and tangle her limbs around him. He wanted to run his hands all over her, to feel her heart beating in her chest, to hold her like he’d never let go. Yet, every other night, they’d lay there wishing for all the same things, but both afraid to be the first to reach out. Both afraid that come the morning, they’d realize it was a mistake. That they’d never go back to the way they were. And that scared them both more than anything.
----BREAK---
She woke up with a start. Her body already knew what day it was. With a small huff she pulled herself into a sitting position and threw her legs over the side of the bed. Every year it was the same story. The day was just... heavy. It was harder to walk, harder to breathe, harder to live. But as always, she planted her feet and forced herself into her normal routine.
Things always seemed brighter after a long, hot shower. She let her mind wander while the warm water pelted against her back. When she was finished, she ran a towel through her hair and wrapped herself in the robe hanging on the wall nearby. She was just getting her blowdryer out when Damon appeared in the doorway. She didn’t notice him at first, but she could feel his gaze on her. Her suspicion was confirmed when their eyes locked in the mirror. Time felt like it had frozen as she stood there under his stare. He looked like a god leaning against the doorway, clad only in his low-slung boxers with the bandage wrapped tightly around his chest.
“How are you holding up?” Damon broke the silence in a gentle voice. She snapped out of her daze and busied herself with the blowdryer, desperately trying to avoid his probing eyes.
“I should ask you the same thing,” she replied as she ran a brush through her damp locks.
“Elena,” he said in a warning tone. She ignored him as she ran her comb through her hair. He took a step closer to her when she hit a mass of tangles and frantically tried to work through them. He could almost see the frustration building in her. He knew what this day meant for her, how hard it was for her. Despite the past eight months, his heart still yearned to take away her pain.
Her arm began tugging on her hair with increasing strength as her frustration grew. He stepped closer to her and placed his hand gently on hers to calm her jerky movements.
“Hey, hey,” he soothed as he removed the brush from her hand. She placed her hands on the counter to brace herself and he could see through the mirror that she was fighting the tears that would inevitably fall later that day.
“I’m sorry,” she shook her head, but her eyes remained closed, “I thought I had it together. I guess I don’t,” she let a humorless chuckle escape her lips. He moved to her side and reached his hand out to touch her, to comfort her somehow, but he stopped short and let his hand fall when he realized he didn’t know if he was supposed to touch her. Instead, he settled on wrapping her hand up in his so she would turn to face him. Yet, her eyes still wouldn’t lift from the ground.
“You don’t have to have it together today,” he told her in a calm, but firm voice. “You’re allowed to feel.”
His words affected her more than he knew. They were like a shot straight to her heart. Her insides immediately began to warm and she felt immensely grateful to have him there with her. Just like he was every year.
“Thank you,” she whispered as her eyes finally met his. Their hands stayed locked for a few moments before she picked the brush off the counter once more and started back on her hair. With the moment broken, he took a step away from her and turned on the shower for himself.
“So what is your plan for today?” He asked while he waited for the water to heat up. He always spent this one day with her, but he didn’t know if she still wanted him to. Besides, he was still on bed rest.
“Jenna, Jeremy, John, and I were all going to go visit them,” she said over the noise in the small space as she moved the blowdryer around her head.
“I wish I could be there,” he said quietly, but he could tell she heard by the way her eyes snapped to his in the mirror. A shy smile ghosted on her lips and a little pink tinted her cheeks.
“Me too,” she said just as softly, although she knew he heard her. His heart skipped a beat when he heard her words. He gave her a small smile in the mirror before ridding himself of his bandages and his boxers and stepping into the shower.
---BREAK---
Her parents’ deaths hit her hard. Every year on the anniversary of their accident, she felt like she was sixteen all over again. She could hear the argument they had over the phone right before her parents left to pick her up. She could hear the metal guardrail being crushed under the weight of their speeding car. She could feel the water seeping through her clothes and chilling her to the bone. She could still see her life flashing before her eyes.
Needless to say, it wasn’t her favorite day of the year.
Since she met Damon, they always spent the day of her parents’ deaths together. One year they strolled the cemetery and he listened while she told stories of her childhood. Another year, they found a quiet bench and he held her while she cried. Anther year, they stood hand-in-hand in front of their gravestone in silence. But this year was different. He couldn’t help not being there, but she still felt like if she’d done things differently this year, he’d stand next to her and be whatever she needed that day. A punching bag, a rock, a shoulder to cry on, a listening ear, he’d be anything for her.
Her Aunt Jenna dropped her off at her house after they spent a few hours together at the cemetery. Her stomach growled as she slipped into the house, but she knew she should check on Damon first.
She climbed the stairs soundlessly and a soft light filtered from their room into the hallway. She pictured him grumpy from having to spend a whole day in bed, the thought of his disgruntled face made her smile. But as she neared the room, she could hear voices. Once she got closer, she could tell they were arguing. Without hesitation, she pushed the door open and entered her bedroom.
---BREAK---
He wanted to be with Elena so badly. Part of him knew it was a good thing he was unable to go with her so he could keep his distance and keep his heart safe, but most of him just wanted to be there for her like he had been every year since they had met. All he wanted was to be whatever she needed.
He didn’t know how he was expected to entertain himself. He tried to watch TV. He tried to read. He tried to sleep. He was bored. He was in the middle of finding shapes in the ceiling when he heard the door open and close. He sat up in bed, his heart picking up in the excitement of seeing Elena. He heard her steps on the stairs and in the hall before the door swung open.
His heart dropped when he saw that the woman who stepped inside was not his wife.
“Andie,” he growled.
“Hi,” she said shyly and took a step closer to the bed.
“What are you doing here?” He snapped. She seemed unfazed as she walked even closer to where he sat in the bed.
“I heard about your accident,” she explained in a hurt voice, tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear, “I wanted to make sure you were ok.”
“Well I’m fine,” he bit out and tried to scoot away as she sat down on the edge of the bed. He hissed in pain when he moved wrong. Her eyes went wide and she reached out to soothe him in some way.
“I’m fine,” he repeated, hoping she’d put some distance between them. Her hand stayed on his arm for a moment before it slowly moved up his neck and cupped his face.
“I can’t believe she just left you here alone,” Andie said softly as her thumb caressed his cheek bone.
“You need to leave.” He ground out and jerked his head away from her hand.
“No,” she said stubbornly, “I’m not leaving you here alone. Why can’t you see that I can care for you more than she can. I can love you more than she can.” Her voice dropped to a soft whisper as she scooted up the bed and closer to him.
“Stop,” Damon snapped. His frustration grew since he had no way to escape her. “You can’t keep doing this.”
“Why won’t you just give us a chance? You almost left her once,” she whispered as she leaned in closer to him. Her hand crept up his chest and tangled in his hair as she crashed her lips on his.
His hands flew up to her, and he ignored the pain in his side as he tried to push her off.
“Get the hell off him,” a stern voice came from the doorway. Andie jumped off of him like she’d been burned and his heart shattered when he saw Elena standing in the doorway with her puffy red eyes, reminding him of just how painful her day had been.
“You don’t deserve him,” Andie hissed.
“I thought I told you to stay the hell away from my house,” Elena said in the same stern voice.
“He deserves to be happy,” Andie continued, “I make him happy.”
“Really?” Elena said sarcastically as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Because he sure doesn’t look happy right now.”
His eyes darted between the two women facing off in his bedroom and he couldn’t wrap his mind around what was happening.
“God, Andie,” he finally interrupted them, “When will you get it through your head? I’m not leaving my wife. Now, please leave.”
Andie stared at him with hurt eyes for a few moments before promptly leaving the room. The tension, however, stuck around after her departure.
“Elena,” he started, he was desperate to make her understand so she wouldn’t look so broken.
“Are you hungry?” She said suddenly, cutting him off.
“Elena, please,” he started again.
“I’m going to make some spaghetti,” she said quickly, “It’ll be ready in about twenty minutes.”
She didn’t even look at him before disappearing into the hallway.
“Elena!” He called after her and cursed to himself knowing she wasn’t going to turn around. Andie screwed everything up, once again. Elena was pushing him away again, he just knew it. He could see that detachment in her eyes and it nearly broke him in two.
He pushed himself up out of the bed, ignoring the sharp pains in his side. He had to make it right.
He would not lose her again.