Chapter 3: The Truth Comes Out

I had initially thought that our relationship would have gotten less romantic from the second date onward. However, it turned out to be quite the opposite. He kept inviting me to nightly strolls through the park and around the neighborhood. We still wrote letters to each other. He even gave me a signet ring to stamp the seals with. It was going really well.

Another development that had come from my dating Damien was that Andrew had taken to calling him "Goth Dad". It was an apt description, but I still often feared that he would go back to his goth stage.

I was startled out of my thoughts, while writing my most recent letter to Damien, by Andrew asking, "Is Damien a vampire?"

"Considering how he can walk around in the sunlight unharmed and without sparkling would tell me that he is not a vampire," I said.

"Maybe his cloak is imbued with magic to protect him from the sun's rays, then?"

"You've figured him out, Andrew."

"Does that make you his familiar then?"

"I guess it would." I shrugged.

"That's cool."

I folded up the letter draft and put it away. "Well, I'm going out. While I'm gone, can you throw out the garlic bread that's in the freezer? Damien doesn't like garlic bread."

"I knew he was a vampire!"

"No, it's… never mind. I'll be back."

"I'll leave a window open."

I rolled my eyes at him and headed out the door. I met up with Damien by the beach. He still wore his entire gothic costume. I thought it couldn't have been comfortable for him in this hot weather. He seemed unfazed, however.

"This is gonna seem like a goofy question, but why do goths wear black?" I asked.

"Gothic subculture has always been associated with death, so it would make sense that the style surrounding it would be greatly influenced by mourning. Interestingly enough, though, was that in the Victorian era, Queen Victoria herself mourned the death of her late husband for ten whole years, wearing black for the rest of her life. If that's not goth, I don't know what is."

"I have another question."

"Go ahead."

"How are you so… comfortable with death? I know you talked about how it helps you appreciate life, but… I don't know. I guess I still don't understand."

"Ah. I've experienced several losses over the course of my life, and I truly believe the only manageable way to cope with it is to accept that death is simply a part of living. It is the single universal truth for every human who has ever lived. I am going to die. You… are going to die. And life carries on without us." He seemed hesitant when he mentioned my death. Perhaps there's something he's still not over?

"That's kinda scary," I said. I hated the thought of losing Damien. I had grown to really like him. It would hurt a lot if he died.

"Without the advances of modern science, death was everywhere in the Victorian era, yet funerals were major social functions. Victorians were obsessed with mementos of their loved ones, even going so far as to take elaborately staged photographs of their dead relatives. The minutiae of mourning was so complex that there were set periods of grieving that were deemed acceptable based on who in your life had passed.

"Now, we don't have any of that. If you lose someone, you end up feeling lost yourself because we have no modern equivalent of those formalities. We need to allow ourselves time to grieve, to feel that loss fully, but not allow it to consume us."

Two years since Daniel had passed on and I still felt his loss heavily on my heart. After his death, there was very little sympathy for me, especially from those closest to me. I hadn't been allowed that time to mourn. Instead, I had this sadness sitting over me listlessly.

Damien seemed to have noticed I went out of it for a second, so he said, "The time we have here is brief and fleeting and occasionally cruel, but it is at all times precious. To stare death in the face and live despite that, I think, is a noble existence. Let's save the mourning for the dead."

"You really are a great philosopher, aren't you, Damien?" I blushed and smiled.

He blushed as well. "Well, I don't know about that, but if what I said made you happy, it was worth the while."

We stood there, staring at each other. The sun's reflections on the water lighted on our features. Damien was so majestic, so mysterious. I was finding myself feeling emotions I hadn't felt in a while. I started moving closer to him. I wanted nothing more right now than for him to hold me.

The silence was interrupted by Damien's cell phone ringing. "I'm… so sorry. I have to take this," he said. He takes a few steps away from me to answer his phone. I hope everything's all right. He spoke quietly to whoever was on the other end.

When he came back over to me, I asked, "Is everything all right?"

"There's an emergency," he said urgently.

"Lucien?"

"No, thankfully, but I must take my leave."

"Oh… okay. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You have stuck by me through so much…"

"And you me."

He seemed thoughtful for a moment. "Then come, there isn't time to waste." He grabbed me by the hand and began whisking me away. I could tell his grip was urgent, but there was also a tenderness to it.

We went off in my car to a part of town I had never been in before. Damien had given me directions and, when we finally pulled over, I was more alarmed than ever. There were no clear markings on the building to say what it was. "Where are we?" I asked.

"It's better if I just show you," said Damien. He sounded reluctant? With a wave of a hand, he urged me to follow him.

We went inside and there was still no clear indicator of where we were. The pictures on the wall were nondescript. All I could tell was that this was a waiting room. It was cold. Where are we?

"Wait here for a moment. I'll be right back," said Damien. He walks off down the corridor, his boot heels echoing through the halls of this near empty building. Distant howls and scratching put me more on edge. This is either a shelter or someplace incredibly illegal. What have I gotten myself into?

The lights turn off for a moment. I swallow the scream in my throat. "Damien?" I call out. My voice is shakier than I had intended it to be. The lights are only off for a moment before they come back on.

"Hey, there," said a woman. I recognized her as being Mary. I had formally met her at the barbecue, but there was someplace else I thought I had seen her before, but I couldn't remember.

"Mary, what are you doing here?" I asked.

"You're not here for the fight club?" Oh, God.

"Uh… no… thank you?"

"Great, because this is an animal shelter." Thank God. "What did you think this place was?"

"I wasn't entirely sure. Everything's so nondescript in decoration and the building has no sign. With the howling down the hall, this could be an animal shelter just as easily as an illegal place where people hold dog fights."

Mary laughed. "Wow, really? Dames, do you hear this baloney?"

"Just… one moment," said a voice. It was Damien's voice, but it sounded… different.

From down the hall, I hear a door open. The man I see is undeniably Damien, but he's not dressed the same. He's wearing normal shoes, blue jeans, a purple polo shirt, and glasses, his contacts gone. His hair is even up in a ponytail as opposed to being draped loose on his shoulders like he normally has it. On his shirt, I notice a name tag with his name on it.

"Damien?" I ask, confused.

"Um… hey," he says. His voice is the same, but, I realize, the refinement he had been putting into it is no longer present. "I wasn't planning on sharing this side of me until much later, but… I'm not as Goth as you think." He still has those deep tones to his voice though. So happy the buttery tone wasn't fake. "I'm a systems administrator for the IT department of a realty company. I wear tennis shoes to work and I listen to Bruce Springsteen. I enjoy going to the hardware store and looking at storage solutions. And I… volunteer at this animal shelter in my spare time. I'm boring. I'm fascinated with Victorian history and the Goth lifestyle, that much is true. It's just… not all that I am. And I need you to know that."

"Oh. I, uh…" I started, but Mary interrupted.

"Hate to kill the moment here, but there's some pressing business that needs attending to," said Mary.

"Oh! Right," said Damien.

"It's Duchess Cordelia," said Mary.

"Again?" asked Damien.

"Who's Duchess Cordelia?" I asked.

"She's one of the pups. Gets out all the time. She somehow learned how to open doors and now she's unstoppable," explained Mary.

"When did she get out?" asked Damien.

"This morning. I went to sing sea shanties to the cats and when I came back she had already bolted. I need to stay here with the pets, so I need you two to go find her."

"Of course."

"Where could she be?" I asked.

"She always ends up running to the same places. Here, I'll draw you a map," said Mary. She starts drawing on the back of a pet adoption form. "She's very smart. Ruthless, even. You need to stay on your toes and get her back by sundown or else she turns into a werewolf and starts eating people."

"What?" I asked.

"You're a perfect little cinnamon roll, Carrie. We just don't want her to be stuck outside when it's cold."

"Oh…" I looked to the floor to hide my shame.

"I'll grab some treats and we can hit the road," said Damien.

I took a look at the map. I noticed the cul-de-sac laid out and the fact that my house was called "Debbie Downer's house." "Well then," I said.

I felt Damien's hand on my shoulder. "It's not the worst name to be called and you were a little shy when you first came to be with us," he commented.

"I guess so," I said.

"Where should we start, do you think?" asked Damien.

"Let's head to the cul-de-sac first, see if any of our neighbors saw her." Damien nodded to my suggestion.

Damien seemed a little low when we got in the car. "It shouldn't be too hard to find her, right?" I asked.

"Mary wasn't kidding when she said that dog was smart. One time she correctly guessed the winner of the Kentucky Derby. It was a really great year for Bark Bark Bark." I wasn't sure if he was joking or not. "What do you think our odds are?"

"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. But lo, look upon God's creation and wretch with horror at what he hath forsaken. Hell is empty, and the devils are all here," I said.

"Nice," said Damien.

"I thought that would cheer you up."

"Let's just hope for the best."

"We got this."

We pull into the cul-de-sac and find it to be pretty quiet. We notice Brian doing some yard work and park along the curb to talk to him. "Hey, don't step on the grass. I just mowed," said Brian.

"Have you seen any big dogs run through here?" I asked.

"Well… a little while ago I heard Maxwell barking at something. When I came outside, my garden was torn to shreds. It's going to take forever to re-till the soil," said Brian.

"That could be a dog or a really big raccoon," I said.

"Whatever it was, it must have been hungry. Ate all of my tomatoes."

"I'm very sorry to hear about your garden. If you need assistance restoring it to its former glory, please don't hesitate to contact me," said Damien.

"Oh, don't worry about me. I can take care of it myself, like any real man can," said Brian. Brian was all-smiles, but I couldn't help feeling that he was trying to provoke Damien. What the heck's his problem?

Damien brushed it off and guided me back to the car. "The Duchess must still be hungry. I wonder if she's looking for more food elsewhere?"

"Maybe we should head to the Coffee Spoon then, see if Mat saw anything," I suggested.

We drive to the little coffee shop and park on the curb. It looks like a slow day. There're no customers inside and Mat's reading a book.

"Hey, Mat," I greet.

Mat looks up from his book. "Didn't expect to see you two today. What's up?" he asked.

"Have you seen any stray dogs around?" asked Damien.

"Actually, yeah. I caught one digging through the trash earlier. It ran away when I tried to get closer, though," said Mat.

"Did you see where it went?" I asked.

Mat pauses a second to think. "Might have headed east, I think. That pup tore through some old banana bread. Want some for the road? Just in case?" he asked.

"Sure," I said. Mat wraps up a slice for us. "Thanks for the slice. The road slice. This banana bread is gonna be so good."

"I think he meant to give it to you for the dog," said Damien.

"I know that… doesn't mean we can't share," I said. Mat's banana bread was the bomb, but I would make the sacrifice if it meant making Damien happy.

We said good-bye to Mat and headed back to the car. "I feel like we're on the right track," said Damien.

"You think?" I asked.

"If we keep this up, we'll find the Duchess in no time."

"Hey, if you like dogs so much, why don't you have any?"

"Lucien is severely allergic. I wouldn't put him through that. But there are still dogs in my life and for that, I am grateful."

"There's about to be one more dog in your life."

"Splendid attitude. Let us not waste any more time."

"Verily." I take a look at the map. "Why don't we head to the softball field, see if she's there?"

We head to the softball field and see Craig's team practicing. Maybe one of the kids saw something. Craig spots us and jogs over with a softball bat slung over one of his shoulders. "Hey, bros! What's up?" he greeted happily.

"Craig, you wouldn't have happened to see a dog around here, have you?" I asked.

"One escaped from the animal shelter and we're trying to locate her," Damien added.

"I don't think so… maybe one of the girls saw something," said Craig. He called over his older daughters, the twins.

They greeted us, "Hi, Andrew's Mom; Hi, Lucien's Dad," Briar and Hazel said in turn.

"We… have names," I said.

"Girls, have you seen any dogs around?" asked Craig.

"There was a big dog around here earlier. She ran off a while ago, though. I don't think she had an owner, but it really wanted to play," said Briar.

"We tried to play fetch with her, but she just took the softball and ran," said Hazel.

"I think she ate it, actually," said Briar.

"She was a lot of dog."

"Here, take another softball. It might come in handy later," said Craig. He tossed a softball to me and I caught it.

"Many thanks, Craig," said Damien.

After another look at the map, I suggested we head back bayside. We park the car and my mind goes back to earlier in the day. "We've been here before," I said.

"I remember it as if it were yesterday, even though it was only earlier today," said Damien. I smiled.

"Do you see her?" I asked.

"Not yet, though, who knows if she made it onto one of these ships?"

"The Duchess would do that?"

"I wouldn't put it past her to know how to navigate rough seas and without a compass. Very smart."

"Mom?" I hear a familiar voice and we turn to see Andrew.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Did you think I just stayed inside and watched TV all day?" asked Andrew.

"No… what are you doing?"

"I'm heading home to watch TV. I had to grab a burrito first."

"Young man, have you seen a dog around here?" asked Damien.

"Totally. I saw a Pomeranian, a Doberman, a whole bunch a Yorkies, a Greyhound, a Golden Retriever-" Andrew began listing.

"How 'bout a mastiff?" I asked.

"Nope. Definitely would have remembered that since that's the breed you're afraid of. Anyway, gotta go before my 'rito gets soggy," said Andrew as he jogged off.

"You're… afraid of mastiffs?" asked Damien.

"No… kinda. They're really huge and I kinda had a traumatic experience with one as a child where the only thing separating me from this big creature was a car door," I said.

"I'm sorry to hear that. The Duchess is friendly, however, so I don't foresee any problems." I nodded. "Mat said that the Duchess went east, perhaps we need to go not-so-east?" I nodded again.

We went back to the car and headed down the road once more. "I fear that the hours are growing short. We must make haste if we're to find the Duchess by sundown," said Damien. He was putting on that brave front again.

"How many Goths does it take to screw in a lightbulb?" I asked.

"I don't know, how many?"

"One. Goths are very capable, especially when looking for a dog." Damien smiled at that.

The next place we go to is the aquarium. There wasn't any sign that the Duchess had been there. However, it didn't hurt to get out and look around, to be sure. It felt like today had been many dates in one. I smiled.

"Did you know that penguins are considered the Goths of the sea?" asked Damien.

"Damien, I want to believe you so badly," I said.

We headed back to the cul-de-sac. It didn't take long to notice the open door at Hugo's house. "You said she can open doors?" I asked.

"This is classic Duchess Cordelia. A telltale sign. We should approach with caution," said Damien.

"Right." We both instinctively grabbed for each other's hand. We crept inside slowly.

Once inside, we saw the biggest Mastiff I had ever seen. I held onto Damien's hand tighter. "Wonderful. Now all we have to do is get this leash on her before she tries to escape again and get out of here before Hugo comes home," said Damien.

"Right. I'm just gonna stand here, supportively." I let go of Damien's hand and he walked toward the beast.

"Duchess, come here," said Damien. The Duchess appeared suspicious of him and let out a low growl. I shivered. "She's on her guard. We'll need another plan."

I then remember the banana bread in my purse. I take it out and unwrap it. The Duchess sniffs the air and I take a shaky breath, in and out. I step forward slowly with the treat outstretched in my hand. The dog starts moving toward me and I nearly back away. It's fine, I tell myself.

I get on my knees and present the bread to the dog. She takes it from my hand gently (and with much slobber) into her mouth and drops it on the floor. She plops down and starts munching on it.

Damien takes the opportunity to go behind her and clip the leash onto her collar. The Duchess notices this and starts whining. "Aw, it's okay," I say, petting her big head. "We're gonna take you home now." I stand up halfway and pat my legs to try to get her to move. "Come on."

She doesn't move. Even Damien's urging doesn't move her. "Duchess, what happened to our rapport? You and I used to be bosom buddies," said Damien.

"I like how you say that word."

"Which one?" He turns to me and looks directly into my eyes. His eyes remind me of warm caramel and I am briefly lost in them to the point I almost forget to respond.

"Bosom," I say seductively.

I see him shiver. "Some… other time… I shall say that word to you again, so long as you do the same for me."

"I would have it no other way." I smile.

"What are you nerds doing?" came a voice. We both jump and turn to see Ernest, Hugo's son, with a plate of pizza rolls. He stands in the doorway with his usual attitudinal expression.

"Maybe, um… don't tell your dad about this…?" I ask.

"I am definitely telling Hugo about this," he says. Damn it.

"Aw, come on. Be cool."

"I am cool."

"Cool enough to not tell your dad?"

He freezes momentarily. "You're good."

The Duchess once again makes herself known as she starts pulling against the leash. "Why is this dog in my house?" asked Ernest.

"It's a long-" I start, but before I can continue, the Duchess suddenly breaks free from Damien's grip. She tackles Ernest, bringing him and the pizza rolls to the floor. "Ernest?! Are you okay?!"

Ernest feeds the Duchess a pizza roll. The hound chomps at it happily. "Hey, she likes pizza rolls!" says Ernest. He sits up and the dog licks his face enthusiastically.

"Oh, hey," came another voice. It was Hugo. "What's… why are you guys… whose dog is this…?" he was at a loss.

"It's a long story involving a dog who knows how to open doors," I say. The dog lets out a loud bark. "Hugo, may I present to you Duchess Cordelia," I wave a hand toward the dog meaningfully.

"How do you do?" said Hugo.

The dog lets out another bark. "We're friends!" says Ernest in-between face licks.

"She's from the local animal shelter. She got out and we've been chasing her all around town," said Damien. "Your house was her final stop."

"Dad, can we keep her?" asked Ernest.

"Ernest, I don't know if we're set up to take care of a… wait, did you just call me 'Dad'?" asked Hugo.

"C'mon, please? Look how cute she is," said Ernest.

Hugo sighed. "We had been talking about adopting a dog for a while. But you have to promise me you'll take care of her."

"Yeah! I'll give her all the pizza rolls her little heart desires!"

I pull a pen from my purse and flip over our map, an adoption form ready. "We got the forms ready, if you're interested," I said.

"I'll even waive the adoption fee since, you know, we technically broke into your household," said Damien.

"Well, all right. It's a deal," said Hugo. Hugo steps outside with us to fill in the form while Ernest plays with the Duchess inside.

"He sure seems to be happy with his new friend," said Damien.

"I know! He called me Dad! Can you believe it?!" said Hugo.

"I certainly can," said Damien. "I think this will be really good for Ernest. It should teach him some responsibility."

"You should probably change the locks on your doors though," I commented.

"The Duchess is a wily one, but do right by her and she'll love you two forever," said Damien.

"Thank you," said Hugo.

We head back to the shelter and tell Mary the story. "Carrie, you could be a valuable asset to our team of volunteers, you know," said Mary.

"Sounds fun," I said. Mary nods and starts to leave.

"Oh, one last thing," she says. "Damien's been telling me about you. Glad he finally brought you around."

"Oh, yea-" I say.

Mary cuts me off. "Damien's my special boy. I love him. We go way back and I got a vested interest in his health, success, and well-being. If you ever hurt him…"

"Mary…" Damien says.

"You can fill in the blanks," Mary finished.

"I understand," I said with a grave nod. Mary leaves. I'm now alone with Damien.

We stand there in awkward silence for a few seconds before Damien says, "So… about the whole… Goth thing. I, um… completely understand if you… aren't interested. In me. Anymore."

"What?" I ask. "Am I… missing something here?"

"I'm not a cool Gothic prince. I'm boring! I own five pairs of tennis shoes! I wear dumb glasses! Don't you care?" He looks really nervous, as if waiting for my rejection. My heart twists in my chest.

"Damien," I grab his hand and he looks at me. "Do you really think I only like you because of all the Goth stuff? That's all cool. But the best thing about you is how passionate you are about the things you love. History, art, Victorian fashion, dogs, storage solutions… it doesn't matter what it is. You care. And that's awesome. And also, your glasses make you look very handsome and distinguished."

"You don't think I'm boring? At all?"

"If you're boring, I don't know what that makes me. I own six pairs of black shoes, I collect coins, and I spend my days off in my P.J.'s all day. Some days I spend whole hours doing nothing at all."

"Then maybe… we can be boring together?"

"It would never be too boring if it was with you."

Damien pulls me into a hug. He puts his head on my shoulder. His hair smells like lavender and rosemary. "I was so scared you wouldn't like me."

"Quite the opposite." He pulls away and looks at me. I get lost in his caramel eyes once again.

"May I kiss you?"

I blush deeply. I had been waiting for so long… "Does a bat have wings?" I asked breathlessly.

"Ah, I believe I have my answer then." He smiles slightly and leans in, giving me a gentle kiss. He pulls away and gives me another one of his deep looks. "Do you… want to… help me take care of the puppies?" Is that a euphemism? I'm happy either way.

"Yes." We actually did wind up taking care of the puppies. They were so cute!

I still had a big smile on my face as Damien (now back in his Gothic clothing) walked me to my doorstep that evening. We walked slowly, our fingers intertwined. Neither of us wanted the date to end.

"This was… lovely. Thank you, for understanding. Thank you for everything. I'm very happy I can be myself around you," said Damien.

"I'm glad. But I have one request," I said.

"What's that?"

"Can we keep sending each other letters?" I ask bashfully.

"But of course." He blushes as well. Damien kisses me again and, though it was no longer than the first, it felt stronger. He turns around to head home. I stand there, frozen for a moment, before I call out.

"Damien?"

He turns and comes back to my side. "Yes?"

Before he can say more, I wrap my arms around his neck and give him a long, passionate kiss. He wraps his arms around my waist. Our bodies fit so well, melded together like this. We parted our lips and looked at each other deeply. Our cheeks are both painted red. It was like first love all over again.

He puts his forehead to mine and says lowly, "I must take my leave, my darling." I shiver. "You need your rest and, besides…" His whisper gets quieter and more alluring. "If you keep doing this to me, I might not be able to stop myself." He pulled away and kissed my forehead tenderly. "Good night, my darling." He walks away and I find myself watching him while reaching for the doorknob. My hand hits nothing but air for a few moments before I finally come to my senses, turn around, and head inside.

I just barely catch Andrew plopping back onto the couch from his spot at the window. "So, you guys together now?" he asked, nonchalantly scrolling through his phone.

"I guess we are," I say happily. It's not long before we both go to bed. It's hard not to think about Damien as I toss and turn before finally drifting to sleep.

That's all for now. Let me know what you guys think in the reviews. Please keep reading and reviewing, thanks :)