The house was dark, brightened only by blue October twilight and the faint yellow glow of the lamp on the end table, so it felt cave-like and mysterious, an underwater grotto with loping indigo shadows.
It was strange, but she couldn't seem to bring herself to turn on any lights. The mood she was in seemed to require darkness – it was comforting, reassuring somehow as if she could hide away, not have to explain herself, not have to admit what was happening.
So she sat on the sofa, barely moving beyond twisting her fingers together in her lap and waited for the sound of the car in the driveway, for the familiar rise and fall of their voice carrying across the front yard. They'd called, just as they were leaving the rink, so she knew they'd be here any minute and she tried not to check the clock too obsessively, not when the second hand seemed to be making its revolutions more and more slowly each time she watched.
This was all wrong, she thought in panic. She should be happy. She should be giddy. She should remember the night before with a sense of wonder and delight, feverishly reliving each moment until it was all permanently tattooed on her heart.
Instead, though, all she felt was cornered, unsure, as if her world was about to implode and she was the one lighting the stick of dynamite.
She glanced toward the mantle, at the photos arranged there, and sighed.
It was normal to be nervous, she assured herself. Normal to be concerned. It was even normal to have doubts. These kinds of decisions always brought about feeling like that. But in the end, it would all turn out all right. In the end, they'd all adjust somehow, get used to the idea, and that would be that.
It could be that simple.
It would.
She heard his car then, gravel crunching beneath the tires in the driveway, and felt her stomach practically tie in knots, a pit opening there as deep as the Grand Canyon. Somehow she managed to get to her feet anyway and walk slowly for the door, opening it just in time to see her daughter bounding up the front walkway, ponytail flying behind her.
"Mommy!" she cried, spotting Elena at the door. "Look!"
Under one arm, she held a bright pink dinosaur, it's back covered with fuzzy purple scales. Beneath her other arm, she lugged a giant teddy bear with ridiculous oversized sunglasses and a neon green Hawaiian shirt, its paws nearly dragging on the ground as she hurried toward the house.
"Wow, Alyssa," Elena smiled. "Those are amazing."
"Daddy won them for me," the little girl boasted as she hurried up the steps. "This one…" She lifted the dinosaur clumsily. "He won by squirting a water gun in a clown's mouth. And this one…" She tried to lift the bear next, but it was almost the same size as she was, so she nearly toppled over before Elena reached out to steady her. "He won this by knocking over bottles with a baseball. All four on his first try!"
Damon came up behind her with a cocky grin. "I always did have a nasty curve ball," he drawled.
Elena paused, studying him for a moment. He might look older now than when they first met, but he was every bit as beautiful. His eyes still glimmered with mischief and intelligence and passion, and his smile still radiated the kind of charm and humour that left a woman weak-kneed and breathless.
And he still had the power to make her heart seize in her chest in a way that no man before – or since – had ever done.
Even after all this time.
Even after everything that had happened between them.
"I think I may remember something about that," she said finally. "Mainly because you'd never let me forget it."
Damon chuckled, shaking his head.
"Daddy used to play baseball," Alyssa chirped happily. "He was really, really good. He told me so."
Elena grinned, helping her daughter out of her jacket. "Yes, I'm sure." She looked up at Damon with a soft smile. "Daddy's good at a lot of things, actually."
Damon shrugged, as if he couldn't, in good conscience, disagree.
"Yes," Alyssa agreed solemnly. "Like ice skating. We went skating after we played the games and he showed me how to spin!"
Elena smiled, running her hand over her daughter's soft hair. Alyssa's admiration and affection for Damon were adorable, precious even, and she was so grateful for the kind of father he'd turned out to be. They'd done this much right, she thought. They were raising a daughter who was aware every single day that she was loved unconditionally.
That seemed like the most any parents could ask for.
"And he said that maybe I could take lessons," Alyssa continued, looking up at Damon for confirmation. "But when I'm a little older…so I don't get hurt…"
"That's right," he agreed.
Elena nodded but regarded her daughter with a stern expression. Sometimes she did feel as if she had to play bad cop to Damon's good, but then that only seemed to be proof of what a good team they made, how they complimented each other, and balanced out one another's weaknesses.
"And you had dinner?" She found herself asking now, needing to be the pragmatic, responsible parent at this moment, not the one who knocked bottles over effortlessly and handed over giant teddy bears. "A real dinner?"
Alyssa bobbed her head emphatically. "Pepperoni pizza and french fries."
Raising an eyebrow, Elena looked back and forth between father and daughter. "Pizza and french fries, huh?"
Alyssa nodded again, smiling almost proudly. Damon shook his head, his expression a cross between amused and frustrated. He knew exactly how Elena would feel about this.
"Yeah, but Alyssa, tell Mommy what else you ate…" he prompted. "What else did we have at dinner?"
The little girl stared up at him blankly for a moment, clearly confused. After a moment, though, she broke out in a wide grin, and Elena could practically see the memory lighting her eyes.
"Strawberry ice cream!" she declared. "With M&M's on top!"
She tried to stop herself, made every attempt to stay stern and resolute, but ultimately Elena couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up from inside her, particularly when she caught the vaguely outraged look in Damon's eyes.
"Before that, Aly," he pressed gently. "What did you eat before that?"
Again, Alyssa regarded him with confusion, biting her lip and tilting her head as she tried to remember.
"Oh," she said sourly after a moment and wrinkled her nose adorably. "The broccoli. I had to eat four whole bites of broccoli before Daddy would let me have ice cream."
Damon grinned at Elena smugly. "See? I'm not a total pushover."
She smiled back, shaking her head. The truth was that she loved how much he loved his daughter, the fact that he wanted to give his little girl everything she ever wanted. She had to play bad cop most of the time, but she knew that she wouldn't want it any other way.
Alyssa deserved no less.
"Maybe not," Elena eventually relented, gazing at him fondly for a moment. She bent down so she was eye level with her daughter then, and smiled. "Okay, baby girl, it sounds like you had a great weekend with Daddy, but it's getting pretty late…why don't you go upstairs and wash up? I'll be up in a few minutes to help you put your pajamas on."
The little girl pouted, looking so much like her father that it was almost alarming.
"I don't want to go to bed," she whined. "I'm not tired at all…"
"I know," Elena said soothingly. "But you've got school in the morning, baby girl. If you go upstairs and start to get ready, we can read a few stories together before you have to go to sleep."
Alyssa's expression brightened, and she bounced up and down on her toes, the stuffed animals that Damon had won for her bobbing against her sides. "Yeah? 'Stuart Little?' Can we read some more of that?"
"Yes," Elena said with a smile. "Now say good night to Daddy and thank him for…"
"Good night, Daddy!" she nearly shouted, holding her arms out to him. "Thank you for winning me my dinosaur and bear!"
Damon chuckled, bending to pick her up so she could plant a sloppy, wet kiss on his cheek. "Good night, Aly. Thank you for letting me spend the weekend with you." He kissed her forehead. "Love you…"
"To the moon and back," she finished, nodding gleefully. "Me too."
She fell out of his arms then, reached for the new stuffed toys that she'd dropped in her haste to jump into her father's arms, and bounded for the stairs. She'd only made it up a couple of steps when Elena called out to her again.
"Alyssa, baby, wait a minute. Did you tell Daddy about the play?"
In unison, father and daughter nodded excitedly.
"She did," Damon confirmed. "And I can't wait. Little Red Riding Hood. That's one of my favorites."
Alyssa smiled, pleased to make her father happy, but Elena frowned slightly.
"I know you have a meeting on Thursday, though, Damon…are you sure that…"
"No problem," he answered without hesitation. "I can always rearrange things. No way I'm missing out on the prettiest kindergartner in town making her big stage debut."
Alyssa giggled. "I'm just one of the narters," she told him. "The people who tell the story when nothing's happening."
"Narrators, baby," Elena corrected gently. "You're a narrator."
"Narrator," the little girl repeated with great care.
"You'll still be the best thing in the whole play," Damon declared. "Trust me. I know these things."
Alyssa giggled again, bobbing her head. She headed for the stairs once more, taking two more steps.
"Hey, one more thing, Aly," Damon called after her. The little girl turned, looking back at him expectantly. "Know what a week from yesterday is?"
She smiled, a little coyly – sometimes it was impossible to believe how young she was. She seemed so wise, so aware of everything that was going on around her, that it almost frightened Elena – and she shook her head, biting her lip to keep from giggling.
"October 25th," Damon announced matter-of-factly. "The greatest day in the history of the world."
Alyssa gave into her giggles once more, bouncing up and down on the toes of her little purple sneakers again and gripping the banister so she wouldn't fall. "Why?" she demanded.
This was a game that she and Damon played – she always feigned ignorance, just so she could hear him tell her one more time, so he'd repeat the same words he'd told her at least a dozen times in the past two weeks.
"Because that's the day the most beautiful, smartest, sweetest little girl was born," he said simply.
Elena smiled, looking down at the floor. She was afraid she might get teary-eyed if she looked at either Alyssa or Damon.
"Me," Alyssa cried out in excitement. "Me!"
Damon grinned. "The one and only. And just wait until you see the party we have..."
"I can't wait," the little girl sighed, almost dreamily.
"Okay, okay," Elena said with amusement. "We're all excited for the party. But it's time to get ready for bed…"
Alyssa nodded, blew her father one last kiss, then ran the rest of the way up the stairs.
For a moment, Elena and Damon stood in the living room in silence. When she looked up at him, he was gazing at her tenderly, his eyes shining. Moments like this still happened between them, moments when it felt as if the thing between them was barely in control, as if it only would take the right word, the right look, the right touch, for it to explode again. It scared and thrilled her all at the same time, and she hated herself for it.
Now, though, she had something to say, something with the power to change things between them forever, to extinguish that spark between them permanently.
She knew she had to tell him, but one look at his lovely, breathtaking face and she wasn't sure she could bring herself to do it.
"She's nervous, I think," Elena said after a beat, needing to break the silence. "About the play. She's excited, too, but I think she's a little scared about standing up there in front of everyone."
Damon smiled. "She must get that from you," he teased. "Because I'm pretty sure I was a ham from the moment I was born. Not even a hint of self-consciousness here."
Elena nodded, gazing at him fondly. "I remember."
They looked at one another, time stretching and slowing and seeming to turn back all at once. She was suddenly aware of her breathing, how loud and fast it seemed, and her chest seemed to ache, a low, persistent pain that she was not quite sure would ever go away.
Damon finally looked away, sighing softly. "Well, I should get going. I've got an early meeting in the morning." He took a step toward the door. "I'll see you at work tomorrow…" He paused, looking back at her. "You still need me to pick Alyssa up from school?"
Elena nodded.
"Alright then. See you…"
"Damon, wait."
It felt as if the world was moving in slow motion as Damon turned to face her, his expression perfectly neutral.
She could do this, she told herself. She could make herself say the words.
"There's something else I wanted to talk to you about actually," she confessed in a low voice.
He cocked his head. "Okay…what's up?"
Elena took a deep breath, embarrassed when it stuttered back out of her in a rush. Damon narrowed his eyes in concern and took a step toward her.
"Wait a minute," he sighed. "I think I know what this is about…"
Her heart seemed to lurch in her chest, and she lowered her head. He knew her well enough to figure it out, she realized. He'd always been able to read her easily, like one of those romance novels with a predictable ending.
He'd probably known the moment that he'd walked in and looked her in the eyes.
He'd probably just tried to talk himself out of it.
"You do?" she asked quietly.
Damon smiled, as beautiful and lovely as ever, and she felt sick to her stomach.
He had no idea.
"Alyssa wanting to get her ears pierced," he said. "She told me all about it at the rink."
Elena nodded glumly. She was going to have to say the actual words. "Her friend Amelia just got hers done. It's all Alyssa can talk about now."
Damon groaned, throwing his head back. "Elena, she's barely five years old. She's too young." He looked at Elena, a wild, desperate gleam in his eyes. "Isn't she too young?"
Elena smiled, shrugging. "I was eight when I had my ears pierced," she admitted.
He nodded enthusiastically. "See? That's better. Eight. That's much better."
"You probably won't want her to get it done then either," Elena said gently. "Because it just means she's growing up and you won't ever really be able to accept that…"
He gazed at her sadly, his eyes dark and stormy. "Maybe so. But I think I'll be better equipped to deal with it in three years. "
Elena laughed – he was being a little dramatic about the whole thing.
"It's not like she wants a tattoo, you know."
Damon grinned momentarily. "Keep it down," he stage-whispered. "You'll give her ideas."
Elena shook her head, smiling. "That's you, actually. She's been asking me a lot of questions about your tattoo," she teased. "Why you got it? When? How did they draw it? Did it hurt?"
Damon frowned. "Jesus. She's five going on twenty-five. Make it stop, Elena. Make her stop."
Elena cocked her head, lifting her shoulders in defeat. "I wish I could," she whispered. "I wish I could…"
Nodding, Damon glanced upstairs. The sounds of water running in the bathroom and Alyssa humming could be heard clearly, and a soft smile crossed his face. "We did good, you know," he said warmly. "She's this amazing little person and we made her. Hard to believe sometimes…"
Elena felt the tears that came to her eyes, even though she kept them closed. He was right, of course, and she knew that every time she looked at her little girl, she'd always think of Damon, of the gift that he'd given her, of the love that he'd brought to her life.
That would never change.
"Let's try and put off the ear-piercing thing," he said. "For as long as we can anyway."
"We can," Elena said and watched as he stepped toward the door once more. "But actually, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about …"
Damon turned again, looking vaguely confused. "Okay," he said slowly. "If it's not about the ears then…" He hesitated, looking at her closely, and for a moment she was convinced again that he knew, that he'd somehow put it together. His eyes flashed in the dark room. "It's about her wanting the dog, isn't it?"
Elena stared back at him blankly, but Damon forged ahead, nodding knowingly.
"She's got her heart set, I know, and if it were up to me, I've got to be honest…I'd get her one." He shrugged. "But then I'd be sticking you since she'd want the dog to live here with you guys and I don't know if you really want that…" He paused again, looking at Elena imploringly. "Still I think it's good for a kid to have a dog. It'd teach her responsibility and…"
Elena shook her head, her chest burning with guilt. "It's not about a dog," she said tearfully.
Damon exhaled slowly, and, as if suddenly sensing the seriousness of the moment, his entire body stiffened. "Okay. What then?"
She shook her head again, suddenly speechless, her throat aching and dry. Across from her, Damon wet his lips and sighed impatiently.
"Come on, Elena. You're starting to scare me." He reached out and cupped her shoulder. "What is it?"
She bit her lip, her heart pounding like a runaway train. "I don't know how to…I'm not sure…"
"Just say it," he urged, his fingertips warm as they brushed against her neck. "Just tell me."
She took a deep breath and finally looked him straight in the eye.
"Liam asked me to marry him last night," she whispered. "And I said yes."
