by India Lee
As soon as the door opened, she knew he was inside. She could feel his presence in the air. She could feel the warmth in the atmosphere, as if he was already embracing her. Gemma felt a lump in her throat, but she willed herself to be strong. Whatever state she would find Damian in, it was her turn to be that pillar of support. It was her turn to be there for him.
She stepped into the apartment, noting a cup of coffee sitting on the kitchen counter. A fooseball table sat half disassembled in the living room. Gemma remembered when she had visited Damian and Nicki with Tyler, how tense she had been then with everything that was happening with her impersonator and stalker, Elizabeth Tara Clarke. But it felt so far away now and everyone had almost completely forgotten. As they had forgotten about her and Tyler and their failed engagement. As they would eventually forget her Vegas wedding with Damian.
Gemma turned the corner, making her way down the hall towards his bedroom. The door was open and she couldn’t see anyone inside, nor could she sense any movement. She was beginning to wonder if she was wrong.
But as she approached the doorway, she saw his familiar figure sitting on the edge of his neatly made bed. Like his house in Brooklyn, there were stacks of boxes against the walls. He looked up at her casually, almost as if she was supposed to be there. But then suddenly, he stood in surprise.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“How’d you…” Damian stammered, before looking down at her hand that held the key. He stepped towards her, taking it from her hands. “How’d you get this?”
“I broke into your house,” she said. “I owe you a new set of French doors.”
“Why are you here?” he asked, sitting back against his bed.
“Do you have to ask?” Gemma replied. “The whole country wants to know where you are. And your family and friends are worried about you. So really, I should be asking you – why are you here?”
Damian didn’t answer. Instead, he stared at the tag that was attached to the key. He looked at his own handwriting and her name scribbled on the piece of paper. Damian pulled his legs up onto the bed, looking out his bedroom window. Gemma sat behind him, reaching around his arms and holding his hands in hers. The key and its tag twirled between their fingers.
“Were you ever going to give that to me?” Gemma asked, letting the cold key sit on their skin.
“I had planned to a thousand times,” Damian said. “I imagined it vividly in my daydreams on so many occasions that I thought I was doing it again just now, when you walked in.”
“Why are you here?” she repeated. “Why aren’t you back home where you’re supposed to be? With your teammates and your friends and your family? Why would you let us all worry sick about you? This isn’t you. This isn’t the person that any of us know.”
“I know,” he answered, quietly. “I’m what I never wanted to be.”
“You can change that,” she said. “Come back now.”
Damian remained quiet. He pulled his hand from hers, taking the key with him. He set it aside on the bed, putting her hands gently to her sides so he could stand up and away from her grasp.
“Your store opens tomorrow,” he said, turning to face her as he leaned up against his wall. “When’s your flight back?”
“I don’t know,” Gemma replied. “I got a one way ticket.” Damian’s brows flashed, looking shocked.
“How are you going to get back in time?”
“I canceled it,” Gemma said.
“Why?”
“Because there was something more important to get to.” Gemma crawled forward on his bed, pulling herself to the edge. “It can wait. But you coming back can’t.” She dared to stand up, though she suspected Damian wanted to keep his distance from her. Gemma approached him carefully, as if he’d run away if she moved too fast. “I’ve never been there for you the way I wanted to be. And I’m sorry for that. I want to make it up to you in whatever way possible and everyone has a thousand suggestions of what that might be. So, now, I want you to tell me what you need so I don’t have to guess. Tell me how I can help you, what I can give you, anything to help me be the friend you deserve.”
“I just need some space.”
“I’m going to veto that,” Gemma blurted out. Damian parted his lips to say something, but instead, he just nodded. She laughed, albeit in frustration, and grabbed his hands. “Okay, no. You know what? I’ve been doing this wrong. I don’t need everyone’s advice of what to do anymore and I don’t need you to tell me what you need because you can’t see clearly right now, that much I know. You’ve always been there for me and I took it for granted because you did it in that quiet way of yours. That’s apparently what I needed, and you knew. You knew me well enough to sense the type of support that I didn’t realize I needed and you gave it to me without question. You did with total selflessness. You went against your own desires to be that person for me and now I want to be that person for you.”
“Gemma…” he started, shaking his head.
“No,” Gemma stopped him. “Let me finish. I know what you’re going to say. I know that you don’t expect anything in return because that’s the person you are. All this time I’ve doubted how good of a friend I was to you and to others but I realize it’s just instinct. If you know and love someone enough, you should just know what to do and I know now. I had to see you and touch you, but now I know.” She looked into his eyes for signs of the person she knew, for a hint of the playfulness and warmth that seemed to live permanently in his deep brown eyes.
“So?” he said, tilting his head back as if to challenge her. Gemma pursed her lips, surprised by his reaction. Don’t do this to me, she wanted to yell at him. Don’t make this so difficult… But Gemma stopped herself. This isn’t about you. She thought about all the times she had been nothing but a difficult mess to everyone around her. She wondered how Damian ever held up against those days. Especially when he loved her, as she loved him now. Gemma held his gaze, willing him to understand her.
“I never meant to make you doubt, even for a moment, how much I love you,” Gemma said softly. “If that has anything to do with all this, with everything, with the crazy behavior – I want you to know that nothing in the world means more to me than you do. You are and always have been my everything and you always will be and I hate that it took something like this to make me realize it.” She looked down at their hands, how she clutched him in a way that he didn’t return. Gemma could feel her strength crumbling. She felt a sob escape her throat. “And you’re right. Saying it aloud just cheapens it.”
“You don’t know that’s how I feel.”
“Yes, I do,” Gemma said, she looked up into his eyes. “You said it the night we got married. You don’t remember?”
“I do,” he nodded. “I just thought you didn’t.”
“It’s been coming back. In pieces,” Gemma shook her head. “I think I have most of it now,” she laughed, despite her tears. She looked up at Damian. His face had softened at the sight of her tears. His eyes sparkled as he reached forward to wipe them away. “I think I have all of it, actually. And I’m sorry. For everything that happened afterward.”
“No, I’m sorry,” he said. “I never meant to pin any of this on you. I hope you don’t take any blame in how I’ve been. It’s not on you, it’s all me.”
“Damian,” Gemma protested. “This wasn’t the point of this trip. I didn’t come here to make you feel bad about making me cry or worrying us because that’s not what I came here for. I just want you to come home. Not for me, not even for your team or your fans. For you. I want you to have yourself back.”
~
She had fully intended on returning to New York with Damian in tow, but the plan to do so had failed. Gemma had stayed in his apartment for as long as she could, stubbornly waiting around for him. But as the sun rose and he made no move to get out that door with her, she’d finally broke the extended silence and asked him, “Are you coming or not?”
He looked at her tired face a
s he poured her a cup of coffee, setting out a small container of cream. “I think you should go,” he answered. She stood still, staring at him stunned.
“And you’re not coming with me?”
“I need to know why I’m making this decision,” Damian had said. “And I can’t do it with you here.”
Back in her boutique, she’d answered the plethora of emails and voicemails that had gathered since she canceled the launch. She hoped it hadn’t made too much of a dent on her credibility, but then again it wouldn’t be the first time this past year that it happened. With all the groundwork already laid out, she was sure it wouldn’t take too much to get everything going again, whenever she decided to set the new date.
In a browser window left open on her office computer was a page open to the Knicks schedule. She smirked to herself, wondering if she had done that on every electronic device she owned. There was a home game that night, one she would have missed if her boutique launch hadn’t been canceled.
She picked up her phone, calling Damian’s number. Gemma hoped he had, at the very least, reconnected it, even if he hadn’t decided to return home. There was no ring tone, but she wasn’t greeted by that irritating electronic message again. Instead, she heard Damian’s voice.
You’ve reached the voicemail box of Damian Evans. I’m sorry I missed your call, but if you leave a message, I’ll get right back to you.
~
In a poetic stroke of luck, the Knicks turned out to be playing the Warriors. Gemma had arrived at Madison Square Garden, early, watching as everyone warmed up. Gavin and Zoe had come with her, sitting quietly beside her as she stood in her seat, watching the tunnel in hopes of seeing Damian coming out of it.
“I can’t believe you found him,” Gavin said. “I was so worried I had to stop watching basketball altogether.”
“Seriously,” Zoe agreed. “I don’t know how you’ve been doing it.” She reached up to squeeze Gemma’s hand. All she could do was nod as she continued to watch the tunnel.
“Don’t take it personally,” Gavin started. “If he doesn’t show. I’m not saying he definitely won’t, but if he doesn’t, it’s okay. At least we know where he is and how he is. That’s a huge step and you did a great job there, okay, Gem?” He leaned forward to look Gemma in the eyes. She smiled, knowing how hard it was for her brother to be serious. But everyone was exhausted after recognizing the relief they felt in learning that Damian was in good health and possibly, hopefully, coming back to New York.
“Don’t do that,” Zoe said softly, covering the screen of Gemma’s phone with her hand as Gemma used it to check the time for the tenth time in the past half minute.
“Sorry,” Gemma nodded, trying to offer a smile to an anxious Zoe. And just as she did, she heard a crescendo of cheers. They had come from one corner close to the court but traveled quickly, rippling across the seats and up the tiers. Within seconds, the arena filled with a roar so loud that Gemma was compelled to rise to her feet along with everyone else. Feeling her breath catch in her throat, she looked out onto the court to see what everyone else saw.
It was Damian running out in his warm-up gear.
“Oh my God,” she gasped, collapsing into her seat.
“Oh, thank God,” Zoe said, kissing Gemma on the cheek before squeezing Gavin in excitement.
“That bastard,” Gavin muttered, letting go of a long breath. “Now that I know he’s fine, I’m not sure I’ve ever been this pissed at him.” Gemma blinked, surprised by his harsh tone considering it had just reassured her moments before.
“It’s okay, that’s normal,” Zoe reassured everyone. “We’re all good.”
“No, we’re not,” Gavin said, arms crossed, clearly making the transition from friend mode to fan mode. “He missed some crucial games. He needs to make up for that shit.”
“Stop being such an angry fan, Gav,” Zoe said with amusement. And though she and Gemma quietly laughed at Gavin’s fury, it didn’t take long into the game to realize that he wasn’t alone in it.
With the first couple of baskets that Damian attempted and missed, loud and instant boos filled the arena. They were angry and profane but Gemma balanced her shock by reasoning the fans had just seen what looked like a party boy who had signed a massive contract only to wear himself out off the court and thus decide to skip whatever crucial games Gavin had mentioned. Folding her hands in her lap, she tried to ignore the commentary that she could hear from the sideline reporters – their unsurprised tone as they spoke into the cameras about the already lackluster performance that Damian was showcasing in his much-awaited return.
This is bad, isn’t it? Gemma chewed her nail as she realized the hole that Damian had dug for himself, that she understood was all the more difficult to climb out of in New York. Yes. This is bad.
By halftime, Damian had scored a single pitiful basket and tallied only a handful of assists. The Knicks were down an infuriating sixteen points. All Gemma could do was watch as the jeers of nearly twenty thousand New Yorkers rained down on the shoulders of one man – Damian. Rushing from her seat, Gemma headed for the gate separating her from the tunnel, hoping he would catch a glimpse of her on his way into the locker room. He glanced up just as she got to it, stopping for a moment in his tracks.
“I’m glad you’re back,” Gemma said as Damian walked over, shaking the hands of a couple children around him who were too in awe of his presence to be mad. He nodded at Gemma.
“I wish I felt the same,” he replied, following his teammates down into the tunnel and back towards the locker rooms. She watched him disappear, hoping he would look back just once. He didn’t. Gemma bit back her lip, racking her mind for something, anything that she could do.
Through the halftime performance, Gemma found herself listening to all the fans, beat writers and reporters surrounding her. Scathing words aside, the tones of their voices conveyed that they had lost hope, written Damian off as another bad acquisition and waste of money. As always, Gemma wanted to jump to his defense, but she knew it would sound ridiculous considering she didn’t have basketball terms to argue her point. She just had whatever hope in her heart for Damian that she for some reason trusted in.
Silent, Gemma looked over at Gavin, who still appeared to be fighting between relief and his anger. She couldn’t help but smile, understanding something of the battle he was quietly fighting between being Damian’s friend and his fan. She had fought a similar battle with her own feelings while figuring out her role as his friend and as his girlfriend. It wasn’t easy, and she was far from done but suddenly, despite the swarming negativity surrounding her, Gemma felt a swelling hope. She just couldn’t let herself give it up. She wouldn’t.
Slipping her hands into the pockets of Damian’s cargo jacket, Gemma sighed, feeling her finger graze the key to his Oakland apartment. The paper tag attached was softening around the edges, tearing in some corners. She could feel something else in there as well – something familiar. Reaching further, Gemma’s fingertips touched what she realized was Damian’s boutonnièr. She had stuffed it into the deep pockets along with the key.
She held it in her hands, brushing the bits of dust that had collected on its petals.
When the shrill buzzer sounded to signify the end of halftime, Gemma watched the tunnel. As Damian and his teammates returned, Gemma kept her eyes on him. He took a seat on the bench, several seats in front of her. She could feel his name sitting at the bottom of her throat. She wanted to call out to him, to show him yet another item she had taken from his house. But she didn’t.
Instead, she found herself tucking the boutonnièr behind her right ear, just like the woman in Maui had done for her. Her pulse fluttering, she let it sit there for a second before realizing her mistake. Taking it off, Gemma switched the side on which she wore the lavender flower, securing it behind her left ear and letting her wavy hair hold it still. Now, her heart beat with approval. She felt a smile touching the corners of her lips, even when Damian still sat with his b
ack facing her. It was her little declaration to him. He might not feel it yet but she felt it and it somehow made her feel brighter.
And perhaps it was a coincidence, but there was something different in Damian’s stride as he made his way back out. Gemma looked around to see if anyone else noticed, but it seemed she was alone. However, within seconds into the game, Gemma was proven right.
Every basket was meeting the bottom of the net. Damian was suddenly on fire.
She wondered what the change was, what the coach could have said or what switch Damian had turned on or off during halftime. Suddenly, the Knicks’ sixteen-point deficit was down to eight – thanks almost entirely to Damian, who either made the dazzling assists or sunk the baskets himself. By the end the third quarter, the deficit was down to two.
And by the end of regulation, the game was tied. The even volley of points between the Warriors and the Knicks had resulted in overtime. Gemma felt a shiver travel her skin as the entire arena rose to feet, stirred, nervous, cheering to the point of insanity as the Knicks controlled the tip-off for the ball. And with only five minutes left in the game, the even volley continued. One team scored to go up by two only to see the other immediately tie the game with the next possession.
But with ten seconds left in overtime, it was the Warriors with the ball and the Knicks down by two. The crowd screamed as a three-pointer was attempted. The screams were even louder as Damian sliced through the air to wrestle down the rebound off the miss. Gemma couldn’t cheer. The arena coursed with adrenaline but she couldn’t force another sound out of her throat. Her voice shot, she couldn’t speak. She could hardly hear. The roar that echoed throughout the Garden was deafening and the clock seemed to run down in slow motion. Her heart beat in her throat as she realized what Damian had planned.
He stood behind the three-point line, watching as both his old and new teammates spread across the floor. As Damian inhaled, Gemma could swear she felt his heart beating with hers. She watched the clock wind down. Five… four… three…
