Page 90 of Damiano De Luca (The Five Syndicates)
The essence of bravery is being without self-deception.
Pema Chödrön
I checked my phone again. My desk chair dug uncomfortably into my thighs as I tapped my feet.
“Miss Vitali?”
“Yes?”
I looked up at Charles, one of my students whose mother always picked him up late. Nearly an hour had passed since the bell rung. The same amount of time had passed between Damian’s last text to me, and my patience ran thin. Which, I knew, was a sign that I still cared. Fuck caring. And fuck not having Damian, too.
Last week, after snapping at Sally again, I figured I owed her an explanation for my short fuse. I gave her the gist of it. I had an ex, who recently came back into my life for a short-lived summer romance. He wanted me back, and despite the fact that I loved him, I couldn’t bring myself to take the leap because our past kept coming back to haunt us.
Sally claimed that I wanted Damian to fight for me. It didn’t have to be that drastic, but taking the leap of faith scared me, and I needed some reassurance that we wouldn’t relapse. Second chances could either be an opportunity to prove you’ve learned from your mistakes or another opportunity for someone to hurt you. The latter made me cautious.
“Miss Vitali?”
“Huh?” I blinked a few times in rapid succession and focused on Charles. “Sorry, Charles. What did you need?”
“I was gonna say that your foot tapping is annoying, but now my mom is here.” He waved the iPhone no eight-year-old had any business possessing. “Bye, Miss Vitali. I liked the finger painting in class today. You’d be cooler if you let us do that every day.”
I cocked a brow. “I’m not cool?”
He shook his head, his chubby face solemn. “No. Mr. Rice is way cooler. I had him last year.”
Oh, boy. Someone save this boy from the wrath of an underpaid, overworked teacher.
I pasted a fake smile on my face. “Mr. Rice is pretty darn cool. Have a nice night, Charles.”
We both stood, and I opened the door for Charles. The two of us jumped back when we saw someone on the other side.
Damian.
I glanced at Charles before my eyes darted to Damian. “This is highly inappropriate.”
“I thought school was over.”
It was. Charles’ mom needed a watch like I need a gin and tonic right now.
Charles turned to me. “Is this your boyfriend?”
His mom rushed into the hallway, her hair a haggard mess. “I’m so sorry. I had to—” Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of Damian. “Um, wow.” She fixed her hair and smiled. “I’m Stella.”
Damian didn’t bother looking at her. Instead, I had his full attention as he nodded to the classroom. Because I needed her gone without a barrage of who-is-that-hot-guy questions, I gave Charles’ mom a polite smile and waved when I would usually give her some passive aggressive attitude after she came barreling in an hour late, her face still pink from her facial or her wrists bright red from the shopping bags she carried.
I shut the door and locked it after I entered the classroom. Damian gave me time to stare at the door while I gathered myself before I turned around and faced him. My classroom was a chaotic, Harry Potter themed mess you couldn’t help but stare at, yet I owned his attention as I took a seat behind my desk.
He followed me there, leaned against the edge of the desk, and stared at me.
“You’re here,” I whispered.
“It’s tomorrow.”
“I guess it is.”
“I didn’t want to wait ten more years.” He used his foot to turn my chair, so my body faced him directly. “I don’t want to waste ten years, knowing the only woman I want is you, and everyone else I meet would amount to nothing, because all I’d be doing is comparing them to you every second of every day.”
“What do you want from me?”
