Verboten

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Amelia's POV:

          * 3 years later *

I stood anxiously behind the front door waiting for someone to get it. An all too familiar sense of deja vu encompassed me; it was a feeling I hadn't experienced in years. 

Today was the day before Damien's wedding.

I remembered the moment mom told me the news all too clearly; she spoke too softly as if treading on eggshells afraid I'd crack. She gauged my reaction - letting silence fall over the phone line, and for a couple of consecutive seconds - I didn't know what to say, my tongue felt tied, my throat parched and my heart; my heart vacant.

I hadn't seen Damien since the day I left for Pennsylvania, we barely ever spoke since then except for the rare yearly christmas greeting, and even then - the call would feel overbearingly long and filled to the brim with tension and unresolved vexations.

I told mom to tell him congratulations, and that I was happy for him, but perhaps that was half a lie. I felt torn; almost too torn. I knew I was the one that set us free, but perhaps a part of me thought he wouldn't be able to love after me, for I - haven't loved after him.

It all felt too surreal, as if it all happened merely yesterday; the memories were still fresh within.

Things between my father and Damien fell back to normalcy. It took them a while to, but true to dad's promise, he tried to mend what broke between them a week after I had left. Mom told me that things in the start weren't the same, nothing was - the house, the routine, and my father's friendship, but after months - it all started falling back into place.

I knew my father couldn't physically utter the words out, but his perspective was cleared, and he - finally - understood what Damien and I shared. He - surely - wasn't accepting of it, but after some deep contemplation he seemed to grasp why we took the leap. Perhaps he realized the copious amounts of emotional scars Damien's heart harbored, and perhaps - too - he noticed how mentally and emotionally unwell I was at that time.

I'd gotten better. My words seem to fall more organized, and my social skills have considerably improved, yet I can't completely say I've grown out of my shell because then I'd be lying, but I was halfway through.

Damien - too - according to mom's words had changed, and as I stood behind the closed front door, I was anxious to meet those changes.

He left New Jersey a week after his contract ended, now - residing in a small town in Cincinnati; he wanted a peaceful life after his reputation was tarnished in Jersey, for everyone knew of what happened between us; I felt guilty about it then, and I still do now.

It felt unusual, waiting behind Damien's front door, but with a view of acres of green lands, and not a long prestigious apartments complex corridor.

The front door was pulled open, and for the first time in years, I saw him.

"Amelia." Damien whispered my name softly, smiling.

My heart stuttered because no matter how mentally and emotionally prepared I thought I was, it seemed as if I really wasn't.

He looked just as I had last seen him, but this time he was less haggard, his face softer. I noticed new crinkles by his eyes, ones that were mere lines grew more pronounced, his hair - too - was starting to appear salt and pepper a contrast to his previously dark dominated heap, but he was still handsome.