Never Let Go: Top Shelf Romance Collection 6

by Steiner, Kandi

  Damian’s mom was back in his life. He had the dog he’d always wanted. His childhood best friend was back in his life.

  I was the one gone.

  “I’m so sorry.” The dam broke. I didn’t even try to wipe my tears. It would’ve been pointless. “I’m so sorry I left him—”

  “Oh, honey.” She caught me, her arms wrapping tightly around me. “No, no. Don’t think like that. You—it’s different for you than me, different than even with AJ. He’s my son. I had a husband. I had a family. And Damian’s my family—that’ll never change. The same with AJ. He has a family.”

  She was trying to make me feel better, but it didn’t matter.

  She was losing a son. AJ was losing a best friend.

  “Hey!” She was more forceful, as if reading my mind. She caught my face in her hands and looked me in the eyes. “You are mourning. I know how much you loved him, and when you see him, it’s going to be a different grief. Because he’s still here, but he’s not the same Damian.”

  More tears. They were choking me, damming up in my throat.

  “He was going to be my husband.”

  “I know,” she crooned. “I know, honey.”

  “I wanted him to be the father of my children.”

  “Oh, Charlie. I know. I’m so sorry.” She pulled me in, rocking me as if were a child. Her hand cradled the back of my head. “Damian knew this was coming, but he was living life as if it wasn’t going to happen. He loved you. I know he did. But I don’t want you to feel bad about not being here. Sometimes you have to step back, you have to heal, so then you can come back and be here for him. Because he’s not the same Damian you knew.”

  “Is he…” I looked at her, my hands fisting her shirt, holding on like she was a lifejacket. “What’s he like now?”

  “Happy.” She laughed, for the first time. She wiped some of her tears. “Sometimes they get happy and sometimes they don’t. He’s happy. I mean, that’s the typical day for him. There are days when he’s not, when he knows he’s slipping, and those days are hard.”

  She went on, walking with me down the hall.

  He got along with the other residents. They took care of him, doting on him like he was one of their grandchildren. And he had them watch movies, gave them stats on sports to impress their grandchildren.

  I smiled at that. “He always did love sports so much.”

  “Yeah.” Her arm linked with mine. “Sports and his dog. He always used to say that’s what he needed to be happy.”

  Hearing my memory coming from her broke me again.

  I felt a crack down the middle as I remembered the first time we’d kissed, how he’d felt like home, how I’d wondered if that was normal. Our first date—how it’d been uncomfortable until I made a joke about farting and he’d countered with a poop joke. We’d both laughed when the neighboring tables gave us looks of disgust.

  I thought about the first time we’d told people we were dating—how proudly he had stood with me, holding my hand.

  I remembered when I came home to a bouquet of roses on the table, how he’d stood to the side and waited until I saw the ring on one of the stems. How he was on his knees when I looked back.

  I’d gotten two and a half years with him. Those years had been good. Laughter. Love. Kindness.

  “He made me a sandwich one day and left it at my door.” I felt myself grinning. “He texted me while I was at the gym, and I was annoyed that I had to leave early to get the sandwich because he was worried my neighbor’s dogs would get it. That was before he had a key to my place.”

  But then I’d realized how he took the time to make the sandwich, how he’d put a Hershey’s kiss in the bag with it, along with strawberries because he knew I loved both. It’d been the first of a long line of thoughtful little gestures he did for me.

  He’d left a handwritten quote on my bedside table every morning for a full year.

  He used to buy me chocolate muffins to share from my favorite deli.

  If I was ready to go to sleep and he wasn’t, he’d watch television, but he’d watch it with no volume. He never wanted to wake me up.

  “He drove me to work, and he’d pick me up if he could.”

  “Yeah.” Brenda nodded, her hip brushing against mine. “He’d come home during his lunch breaks to check on me. He bought me puzzles. He always knew I loved them. Now we do a puzzle here every Sunday together.”

  A new wave of grief broke over me.

  She was in her sixties, doing a puzzle with her son who was thirty-one.

  As if sensing my feelings, Brenda stopped and gazed at me. “It’ll get better. The first visit is the hardest. You’re going to cry probably the whole time, and when you leave, and maybe for a few days after. But it will get better. You’re grieving the family you didn’t get a chance to have. Not just him, but you’re grieving a part of yourself. It always gets better. Time moves along, and the hole you have for him may always be there, but you’ll grow layers around it. It’ll begin to heal.”

  A hole. Check.

  Layers around it? Maybe.

  But getting better?

  We turned the last corner, and she opened the door to Damian’s apartment. He sat in his living room, the television on, and as I entered, I remembered the day and the time. I knew, before walking in, that he’d be watching Reese’s basketball game, and I also remembered that I always got Damian during those games.

  As he turned to look at me, I saw recognition and a bright smile broke over his face. Inside me, something clicked back into place.

  This was family.

  Brenda was right. It would get better. It already had.

  Chapter 47

  Five days ago, I’d sat next to my ex, listening to him tell me Reese Forster’s stats, hearing the old ribbing he used to give me about my crush on Reese. I’d sat there with tears welling up, but I never let them fall. Not in front of Damian. The tears weren’t for the teasing—far from it. And they weren’t even from the pain of seeing where Damian was in his disease.

  The tears were good tears, finally.

  I hadn’t realized how empty I’d been without him.

  I’d gone back two more times through the week, meeting AJ for the first time and getting closer to Brenda. And I met Mickey, who was adorable. A German Shepherd, whose first priority was always Damian —always checking on him, watching him. It wasn’t until Damian sat down that Mickey was off-duty. He hadn’t been brought up as a typical service dog. He had training specifically for dementia, and while I hated the terminology—because Damian wasn’t Damian with dementia to me. He was just Damian—I understood the training was needed.

  A few times Damian started to get up and do something, and Mickey sensed it, whining, pressing him back down. One point he prepared to leave the apartment, but Mickey blocked him, and AJ called his name. Then Damian remembered we were there. His eyes lit up, a smile spread over his face, and he came back for another round of Reese Forster stats.

  Going to see him had been a goodbye in my heart.

  Not a goodbye forever, because I could never do that, but a goodbye to him being my romantic partner. Maybe if I were older, if we’d had kids, things would be different. I would’ve stayed at his side, held his hand, kissed his cheek, and known he was my soulmate for life.

  But I was too young.

  He tried to send me away so many times because of this reason, so I could still have a husband, perhaps children. I got it. I got it then, but I never accepted it. I hadn’t wanted to lose him either.

  At one point, one of the other residents had tried to classify my relationship with Damian.

  I wouldn’t have it.

  I wasn’t his sister. I wasn’t his best friend any longer. I was family. That was it.

  And now, I was back to traveling.

  A part of me felt whole again. I was getting there, and I had one more piece to fix. Reese.

  “Why are you going to Chicago?” my seatmate asked once they announced we were star
ting our descent. He’d kept to himself the whole time, headphones plugged into his phone, but after going to the bathroom, he didn’t immediately tug the headphones back on.

  I’d been slouching down, but I sat up now, stretching my arms and back. “I’m, uh… I’m seeing a friend.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Good friend?”

  He was in a business suit, and I because I didn’t want to talk about the details, I gestured to him. “You’re going for work?”

  “What?” He looked down and laughed. “Oh. No. I travel so much, I forgot. Nah. Not this time. A friend of mine has box seats to the Chasers game tomorrow. I’m flying in to see him, catch the game, and then I’m off to Japan after that.”

  Really.

  I swallowed tightly. “The Chasers?” My stomach twisted up.

  “Yep. Yep. They’re playing the Seattle Thunder, who seem to be the fucking team to beat this year. I kinda miss the old days when Johnston played, you know? He would’ve shut Forster down hard.”

  I couldn’t help myself. “But Forster, Cartion, and Crusky?”

  He sighed, resigning himself. “I know.” He settled into his seat. “Thunder’s stacked this year. They don’t usually have so many heavy hitters. Chasers are hurting. They need to plan better for their team, but we can get there. I know it. Give us another year, and Thunder wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  “That’s your opinion.” I waited.

  He registered the dig and looked over, his eyes wide. “You must be a Thunder fan?”

  “Kinda.”

  “Not Coyotes? We flew from Minneapolis.”

  “Not this year.”

  He groaned. “God, you’re one of those.”

  I knew where he was going, but I wanted him to say it. I wanted him to squirm as he said it.

  I blinked my eyes, so wide and pure. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Right.” He snorted, facing forward again as the flight attendant came with the garbage bag. “You’re a fair-weather fan. Those are the worst.” He side-eyed me, smirking. “No offense.”

  I snorted right back, clipping my seatbelt in place. The descent would still take a while, but I wasn’t going anywhere. “I’ve always been a Thunder fan, and I’ve always been a Forster fan. Don’t underestimate the Reese, man. He’s going to be the GOAT one day.”

  He groaned, and a couple of the other passengers glanced over. He waved at me. “Sorry. She just told me Forster’s going to be the GOAT one day.”

  A guy a few rows back yelled, “Reese Forster? You kidding? The guy can’t rebound for the life of him. He’s gotta depend on his teammates.”

  Yeah. Oh-kay, my seatbelt was off, and I twisted around. I rested an arm against the back of my seat so I could properly see my target. It was a bigger guy who, no surprise, had a Chasers ball cap on.

  “Excuse me? What are you talking about that he can’t rebound? Who cares? He’s not on the inside. Wanna know what he does excel at?”

  “Everything else?” said a woman from the other aisle. She and her friend started laughing together.

  “And he doesn’t look too bad, either,” her friend added as they collapsed in laughter.

  I had to pause, fighting back a grin, before finishing, “He led in scoring five out of the last seven games. He’s led in steals most always. His balls skills are close to Stephen Halorry, another legend in the league, and his floater balls can come in damned handy—and yes, they can win an entire game. Thank you.”

  I was not done.

  Raising a finger, I continued. “No, he doesn’t lead in rebounds, but that’s why they have Crusky, or Lestroy even. And no, he doesn’t lead in three-pointers, but seriously, he’s really good at those too. He’s the youngest captain that team has ever had, and that’s a feat all by itself.”

  I needed a breath. My face was getting hot.

  And once I stopped, I started noticing the looks.

  A few guys wanted to argue, but the guy beside me was just smiling. Leering, slightly. He leaned forward. “You wanna go on a date, honey? I think I could get tickets to the Chasers game.”

  I couldn’t stop myself. My retort came before I knew I was going to say it. “Oh, fuck you.”

  Half the plane erupted in laughter.

  I sat back, and one of the middle-aged ladies waved at me. “You go, girl. You put those men in their place. They ain’t used to girls knowing about sports.”

  As I put my seatbelt back on, I noticed my neighbor eyeing me. “What?”

  “I’m not hitting on you—I have a girlfriend in New York—but do you wanna go to the game? I’m sure my friend would have room for one more. I didn’t know you were that big of a fan.”

  I wanted to huff, but only because I was still feeling spicy. Instead, I shook my head. “I think I’m already going with the friend I’m flying in to see.”

  “Okay. Well, if I see you, I’ll give you a shout.”

  “Same here.”

  The fight drained from me once we landed, and I headed for the exit. My seat neighbor ended up keeping pace with me. We both had only carry-ons, so once we were outside, I waved Trent down and turned to him. “You got a ride coming?”

  “Yeah…” But he was looking at Trent, his eyes narrowed.

  Then, as Trent’s SUV pulled over and he got out to meet me, my neighbor’s eyes went wide. “Fuck, man. I thought we were meeting at the game tomorrow?”

  Uh…back up. Screeching brake sounds.

  Trent stopped, and his shocked gaze jumped between the two of us. He scratched the back of his head. “Um. Huh?”

  “Give me a hug, man. It’s good to see you. I don’t know how you—” He stopped, catching on that Trent was staring just as hard at me. “Oooh.” He motioned between us. “You two know each other?”

  It was clicking in place now.

  Of all the ironies.

  I gestured to Trent. “This is the friend with the box seats?”

  When my plane neighbor nodded, I turned to Trent. “You have box seats?”

  He coughed, his face pinking. “I, uh, kinda know the team.”

  Oh. Duh!

  Oh my God.

  I wanted to smack myself in the forehead.

  Then Trent and my seatmate were shaking hands and hugging. I learned his name was Dwayne—Trent introduced us.

  “Charlie, huh?” He released my hand, stepping back and frowning. “That’s an unusual name for a girl.”

  I glared at him, but he grinned. “Sorry. Had to see if some of that fight was still in you.”

  I grunted, putting my bag in the back since Trent was now enamored with Dwayne. Going to the back seat, I opened the door and hollered at them, “Let’s do all this on the ride.”

  Other cars were starting to honk. We’d exhausted the thirty seconds we could use to greet each other, throw our suitcases in the vehicle, and take off.

  Both guys laughed, and Dwayne nodded to me as he sat in the front passenger seat. “This is nice. Thanks for letting me have it.”

  I just grunted again. There was another potential problem in the future, and I waited till Trent was inside and we had pulled out to the main road before bringing it up.

  “Is it the box with the team girlfriends and family?”

  He met my gaze in the rearview mirror. “Maybe?”

  I groaned. “Trent.”

  “I thought—”

  “No. Can we get regular tickets? I don’t want to deal with his manager and a few other people.” Ahem. Marie. But mainly Stan.

  “I’m sorry. You said you wanted to come down and see—”

  I coughed, shooting a meaningful look toward his friend.

  Trent caught it, amending, “—the game, and I did a recent speaking event with them. Just was natural to reach out, but I can change it.”

  “No way!” Dwayne protested. “I was looking forward to the box.”

  Turned out Dwayne and Trent knew each other because they both traveled a ton. Trent had been booked for a spea
king event with the company Dwayne worked for, and the two saw each other on a plane not long after that. They’d been fast comrades at heart. Dwayne mentioned he was flying in from Alaska, and because it made sense for both of them, Trent invited him to the ball game.

  I was content to listen to them talk, but I knew Trent was concerned about me. He kept looking back in the mirror, and I gave him a small wave. I was fine. He could talk with his friend, who told him what hotel he’d booked. Then he asked a question that had me listening closely.

  “You still dating that model?”

  Trent started coughing. “Uh…” Cough! “What?” Another cough. A sputter to follow, “How’d you know about that?”

  “All the guys know. What’s her name?” He was snapping his fingers, trying to remember.

  I couldn’t hold back my Cheshire Cat smile, offering, “Lauren?”

  “Yeah! Thanks.” He said to Trent, “Lauren.”

  “How do you know about Lauren?” He shot me a dark look. “And not a word from you, thank you.”

  “Consider it box tickets payback.”

  Dwayne frowned at me as he spoke. “Yeah. My buddy knows her. Small world, right? He follows her on Instagram and said there was a picture of you two. He remembered you from that work thing and showed me. She tagged you and everything, said you were her beau.”

  Dwayne was teasing when he used the word, but Trent shifted in his seat. The back of his neck had grown a little redder.

  For once, it wasn’t my life.

  For once, it wasn’t my romance or lack of romantic life.

  For once, I wasn’t the center of attention.

  I leaned forward, propping my chin on my hand. “Yes. Let’s hear more about this Lauren.” I winked at Trent, who just scowled.

  “Um, how about you, Charlie?” he asked under his breath. “Seeing anyone new lately?”

  Dwayne’s gaze jumped between us, his smile not dimming.