“Okay then, I’ll let you go. The game is on,” my father said, referring to his football.
“Okay, Dad,” I hung up and curled up on the couch.
Drako was at my feet nudging his head at me. “I better figure out what to do with myself, ‘cause staying here is going to render me certifiably insane,” I said to Drako, as I picked him up and petted him.
“You seem comfortable,” Daimon’s voice startled me.
“Yeah, sorry,” I said under my breath.
“Why are you sorry?” he asked.
“I didn’t do anything today,” I admitted, not bothering to look at him. Something broke inside me yesterday and I was left feeling even more like a shell of a person than I already was.
“Well I’m glad, you didn’t do a thing. You already bankrupted your restaurant. I don’t need you to fuck up anything else,” he chuckled.
“You’re right, I guess,” I said quietly.
“O…kay… did you eat?” he asked.
“Yeah, I ate,” I said as I rose up from the couch and headed upstairs.
“Where the hell are you going?” he demanded.
“I’m tired,” I said, genuinely exhausted.
“What? Becoming my wife and selling yourself is too tiring?” he jabbed.
“I guess,” I said as I shrugged. I was tired of playing by Daimon’s rules of engagement. He was exhausting me.
I made it up to the bedroom and lay down on the bed. I was happy when I finally fell asleep. It wasn’t a peaceful one, but nonetheless, I still slept, until a sound woke me.
Daimon must have had his stereo on. It was a beautifully sorrowful sound of a violin playing. I made it to the top of the stairs where the sound was louder. The music was heartbreaking and I could feel tears coming. After the demands and drama of the last few days, my emotions were close to the surface. Slowly, I made my way down the stairs to ask him who it was, when I saw Daimon by the window staring out of it. He was playing the violin to a concerto, and was absolutely amazing. His sound was dark and edgy. It was raw. I let out a breath as I watched him play. At first, his violin played softly in a melancholy tone with low notes, but then he played quicker and the notes became more anguished and torn. I couldn’t help but cry. His notes became higher as he played more passionately. I stood transfixed as I watched a Daimon I didn’t know. He stopped at certain points and began playing again. He kept playing in the most obsessive way. I was lost again in the world of Daimon.
The song ended and Daimon put down his violin. I moved to the side, not wanting him to see me. Daimon then sat quietly on his black leather couch and stared out the window, Drako at his side. I watched for a few moments more, torturing myself. What was really going on with me? I hardly even knew. I headed back upstairs quietly, making sure I wasn’t heard. Lying back down, I eventually fell back asleep.
I awoke, knowing full well Daimon was sleeping beside me. Drako was at our feet, snoring softly. Rising and heading to the washroom, I stopped short as I watched Daimon sleep. His bare chest was exposed as his arm rested behind his head. I looked on, my eyes willingly giving in as my mind yelled at me to stop. Pulling myself away, I turned and left the room.
Once washed and dressed, I headed downstairs to see if I could finally eat something, but the moment I opened the refrigerator, I lost my appetite.
“Going to make your hubby a nice breakfast?” Daimon said as he came down the stairs with Drako at his feet. Leave it to him to come down in mid-November without a shirt on. He yawned and stretched, his long hair tousled.
“Not really. I figure you can cook yourself.” I walked out of the kitchen the moment he stepped into it.
“You’re really taking this to a whole new level,” Daimon said from behind me.
“What are you talking about?” I asked him.
“I’m talking about this whole Daimon’s-an-asshole treatment. I said I was sorry. I said I wouldn’t sleep with anyone. What more do you want?” He stood with his arms crossed at the edge of his island.
“I don’t want anything. I don’t want you to do anything. You do what you want. Don’t even think of me. You and I just coexist in this space. That’s it, that’s all,” I said angrily. We both stood in silence. I finally turned to find Daimon peering down at me. His lean muscles moving as he breathed. I watched him for a moment longer, and then turned to leave, but Daimon caught me, pulling me toward his hard body.
“Can you stop touching me like you have some right to? I’m getting tired of your constant tugging at me, whether physically or emotionally. Just stop,” I said, my voice hard, drawing my boundary lines, which he seemed to not care that he constantly crossed.