with a plate of food. When he turns around to leave again, the first phase of my plan is on.
“Damon, can I talk to you for a moment?”
He freezes on his way to the door and his hands fist on his sides. I don’t give him a moment to argue about the use of his name and go on.
“I was wondering if there is a way you could draw me a map towards the nearest road? My ankle is almost completely well and I thought I’d get out of your hair.”
He doesn’t turn around and doesn’t answer me. I’m holding my breath in wait of his response and I really don’t know what I want it to be. That he will do it? That he can take me there? That he doesn’t want me to leave at all?
Who am I kidding? The girl inside me with the crush on him wants him to take me in his arms and tell me that I’m not going anywhere. That he will keep me with him forever. Enter wedding bells.
He turns his head to the side so he can look at me out of the corner of his eye. “I’ll think of something.” And he’s gone.
Okay. I’m a little disappointed. Not only did he not argue me leaving but he completely bypassed the part where I called him by his name. I got no reaction whatsoever.
No worries. I just have to be more persistent.
“Good morning, Damon.”
“Thank you, Damon.”
“Damon, I’m going up to the spring again.”
“Damon, is there something I can do to help around here? I’m feeling pretty useless.”
“My ankle is doing pretty well, Damon. Thank you for taking care of me.”
“I know what you’re doing,” he says in a low voice after three days of the same pattern.
“What am I doing?” I ask innocently.
He looks up from where he’s rearranging the logs in the fire. “Trying to get me to admit I’m him.” He pushes to his feet. “It’s not going to work because I’m not.” He starts for the door.
“I know every single thing about you. It’s my job to. Okay, I’ll admit that – since you’re my first case that doesn’t involve photographing other people having sex – I’ve also become slightly obsessed in finding you and everything about you. I know you had a rough time growing up because of your father and I know how close you were with your brother. I know you were also close to Victoria, your brother’s girlfriend. Do you know they’re married now? Do you know they have a child, a little baby boy? Do you know you’re an uncle?”
His back stiffens but that’s the only reaction I’m getting so I push on.
“I also know about your bitch of an ex and you’ll be glad to know that she’s unhappily engaged to a prick who’s cheating on her. Or maybe you won’t be glad because you’re a good man. Someone that gets involved with charity and makes sure every person that’s working under him is happy and well taken care of.”
I see his shoulders moving as he breathes in and out and then he grabs the doorknob and pulls the door open.
“I know you’re Damon Sawyers not only because you are the man in the picture but because everything I just described is still you. You took care of me, without even knowing me. You pulled me out of a burning airplane and carried me across the forest. Bandaged my swollen ankle and made sure I didn’t walk and make it worse. Made sure I had food and a place to sleep in and clean up. Okay that last part could have been for your own benefit because you couldn’t stand how I smelled but you get my point.”
He turns his head to the side again. “I’m not him,” is all he says.
You stubborn little— “Then who are you? What’s your name?”
“I’m no one,” he says in a voice just above a whisper. “I have no name.”
He’s half-way out the door when I speak again. “I know you, Damon. You may not know me but I know you. I knew you for almost four weeks before I met you and I know you now. And I understand. Not the reason you’re out here all alone but the fact you want to keep that reason to yourself. I’m not asking you to tell me and
“Damon, can I talk to you for a moment?”
He freezes on his way to the door and his hands fist on his sides. I don’t give him a moment to argue about the use of his name and go on.
“I was wondering if there is a way you could draw me a map towards the nearest road? My ankle is almost completely well and I thought I’d get out of your hair.”
He doesn’t turn around and doesn’t answer me. I’m holding my breath in wait of his response and I really don’t know what I want it to be. That he will do it? That he can take me there? That he doesn’t want me to leave at all?
Who am I kidding? The girl inside me with the crush on him wants him to take me in his arms and tell me that I’m not going anywhere. That he will keep me with him forever. Enter wedding bells.
He turns his head to the side so he can look at me out of the corner of his eye. “I’ll think of something.” And he’s gone.
Okay. I’m a little disappointed. Not only did he not argue me leaving but he completely bypassed the part where I called him by his name. I got no reaction whatsoever.
No worries. I just have to be more persistent.
“Good morning, Damon.”
“Thank you, Damon.”
“Damon, I’m going up to the spring again.”
“Damon, is there something I can do to help around here? I’m feeling pretty useless.”
“My ankle is doing pretty well, Damon. Thank you for taking care of me.”
“I know what you’re doing,” he says in a low voice after three days of the same pattern.
“What am I doing?” I ask innocently.
He looks up from where he’s rearranging the logs in the fire. “Trying to get me to admit I’m him.” He pushes to his feet. “It’s not going to work because I’m not.” He starts for the door.
“I know every single thing about you. It’s my job to. Okay, I’ll admit that – since you’re my first case that doesn’t involve photographing other people having sex – I’ve also become slightly obsessed in finding you and everything about you. I know you had a rough time growing up because of your father and I know how close you were with your brother. I know you were also close to Victoria, your brother’s girlfriend. Do you know they’re married now? Do you know they have a child, a little baby boy? Do you know you’re an uncle?”
His back stiffens but that’s the only reaction I’m getting so I push on.
“I also know about your bitch of an ex and you’ll be glad to know that she’s unhappily engaged to a prick who’s cheating on her. Or maybe you won’t be glad because you’re a good man. Someone that gets involved with charity and makes sure every person that’s working under him is happy and well taken care of.”
I see his shoulders moving as he breathes in and out and then he grabs the doorknob and pulls the door open.
“I know you’re Damon Sawyers not only because you are the man in the picture but because everything I just described is still you. You took care of me, without even knowing me. You pulled me out of a burning airplane and carried me across the forest. Bandaged my swollen ankle and made sure I didn’t walk and make it worse. Made sure I had food and a place to sleep in and clean up. Okay that last part could have been for your own benefit because you couldn’t stand how I smelled but you get my point.”
He turns his head to the side again. “I’m not him,” is all he says.
You stubborn little— “Then who are you? What’s your name?”
“I’m no one,” he says in a voice just above a whisper. “I have no name.”
He’s half-way out the door when I speak again. “I know you, Damon. You may not know me but I know you. I knew you for almost four weeks before I met you and I know you now. And I understand. Not the reason you’re out here all alone but the fact you want to keep that reason to yourself. I’m not asking you to tell me and
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