Chapter 9 - DAMON ASKED CASSANDRA ON A DATE, AND SHE SAID NO
The first time Damon asked, Cassandra said no.
They stood in preschool parking lot.
Twins running ahead.
“Dinner?”
Cassandra frowned.
“With kids?”
“No.”
“Parenting meeting?”
“No.”
“What?”
“A date.”
She stared.
“No.”
Damon nodded.
“Okay.”
That was it.
No persuasion.
No flowers.
No “for old times.”
He left.
Cassandra sat in car afterward confused.
She had expected negotiation.
Damon negotiated billion-dollar deals.
He had once considered “no” opening position.
Now he accepted.
Six months passed.
No second ask.
That annoyed her more.
Then she wondered why.
Therapist laughed.
“You said no.”
“I know.”
“So?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want him to ask?”
Cassandra glared.
“Maybe.”
“Then tell him.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because…”
Pride.
There.
She hated.
Finally Damon asked again after twins’ school performance.
Not because pressuring.
Enough time.
“Would you like dinner?”
She narrowed eyes.
“Why?”
“Because I still love you.”
“Wrong answer.”
He blinked.
She continued:
“If you love woman you lost, she’s gone.”
Damon took that.
Then:
“Because I like woman you are now.”
Better.
“And?”
“And I’d like one dinner where we don’t discuss tuition, stomach flu, bedtime, or my mother.”
Cassandra laughed.
Mistake.
He smiled.
“So?”
“One dinner.”
The restaurant was absurd.
Soup forty-eight dollars.
“Why?”
“Truffles.”
“I don’t care.”
They left.
Diner.
Pancakes.
Coffee.
Damon loosened tie.
Cassandra stared.
“What?”
“I’ve never seen you eat pancakes at nine at night.”
“You never asked.”
Fair.
They talked.
NICU.
His father’s death.
Her mother’s arthritis.
His sister’s divorce.
Why he hated silent hotel rooms.
Why she loved thunderstorms.
An hour before old engagement mentioned.
Then Damon said:
“I should have asked more questions.”
“Yes.”
“The lies worked because they matched what I was afraid of.”
“What?”
“That you’d realize my life was too much.”
Cassandra stared.
“You thought I would leave?”
“Yes.”
She laughed bitterly.
“I thought exactly same about you.”
Two proud people.
One manipulative mother.
Enough silence.
Damon continued:
“When you returned ring, I felt humiliated.”
“So you stopped looking.”
“After two months.”
“Yes.”
“I hate that.”
“Good.”
He accepted.
“Did you ever think about calling again?”
“Every day.”
“Then why not?”
“Pride.”
“Still bad.”
“I know.”
She looked at him.
This honesty was different from self-punishment.
No “I’m monster.”
No forcing her to reassure.
He owned.
Date ended.
No kiss.
He asked:
“Again?”
Cassandra thought.
“Yes.”
Slow.
Separate homes.
No children told romance initially.
They were already co-parents.
Didn’t place hope.
Dates every few weeks.
Walk.
Coffee.
Movie.
Argument.
First romantic conflict occurred when Damon canceled dinner due emergency financing issue.
Old Cassandra heard:
Work first again.
She said:
“Forget it.”
Damon said:
“Reschedule?”
“No.”
Then he realized.
“Cassandra.”
“What?”
“This isn’t London.”
Her eyes filled.
“I know.”
“I’m not disappearing.”
“I know.”
“I have to handle actual crisis.”
“I know.”
“But I should have called sooner.”
“Yes.”
He rescheduled.
Showed.
Trust built.
Damon’s money still friction.
He booked weekend resort.
Cassandra refused.
“Too much.”
“It’s two nights.”
“At place where suite costs my monthly mortgage.”
“I can afford.”
“That isn’t point.”
“What is?”
“I need us to exist somewhere your money isn’t directing experience.”
He thought.
They went cabin instead.
Damon complained mattress.
Cassandra delighted.
Relationship became real enough to annoy.
Twins eventually noticed.
Luke:
“Are you kissing?”
“No,” Cassandra said too fast.
Damon laughed.
Violet narrowed eyes.
“You want to.”
Cassandra nearly choked.
Kids.
They told them simply:
“Mom and Dad are spending more time together.”
No promises.
Luke:
“Will you get married?”
“Maybe not.”
“Why?”
“Because adults take time.”
Violet:
“Adults are annoying.”
Correct.
Cassandra’s father remained skeptical.
He and Damon repaired fence one afternoon.
Mr. Hayes:
“I don’t care how good father you are if you hurt her again.”
Damon stopped hammer.
“Fair.”
“Stop saying fair.”
Cassandra had said same.
Damon almost smiled.
Then:
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t expect her to trust because of children.”
“Good.”
“I don’t expect past erased.”
“Good.”
“Then what do you expect?”
Damon thought.
“Nothing.”
Mr. Hayes looked.
“That’s better.”
They kept working.
No hug.
May you like
No approval.
But fence stood.
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