A Daddy for Damian by Joe Satoria

EPILOGUE

DAMIAN

TWO MONTHS LATER

SATURDAY

All dressed up and feeling out of place at a fancy restaurant in the middle of the city. I was filled with nerves, and not only because I’d been seeing Kristopher for two months, but because he’d said the last time he dated, he didn’t make it past a month.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I almost knew that meant something was about to change between the two of us. I didn’t know if that change was going to be good, but it made me nervous.

“What do you want for Christmas?” he asked as a waiter poured white wine into our glasses.

I watched as he poured. The one thing that had changed was my new appreciation for wine. “I—don’t know,” I told him, not where I imagined a conversation to start. “What do you want?” I asked. “We still have a month.” It was near the end of November.

“Maybe we could go away,” he said. “I own a big cabin near a lake, it’s supposed to be nice at Christmas. We could get away. Plus, you deserve a break after all the work you’ve been putting into exams and coursework.”

Even now, as he spoke, I was wondering when I’d get the chance to be adding to my history coursework. “I think somewhere quiet would be good,” I said. “I like that idea.”

“You know,” he said, “you look handsome tonight.”

He’d told me, several times while getting ready, and then undressing, and redressing me. “You look more handsome,” I told him.

“I have a question for you, and it’s not about a Christmas present,” he said. “But I want to make it official.”

“Official?” I looked around, wondering if there was going to be someone playing a violin and people watching us.

“I want you to be my boyfriend,” he said, “and move in with me.”

Those were two major steps. “I—”

“I know,” he began. “You need to stay at home twice a week, and you’re worried what people will think. But I’ve been good, we haven’t rushed this.”

I grabbed the glass of wine by the stem, raising it to his. “Obviously, yes.”

“Good, good,” he chuckled. “This was well worth telling my parents I wouldn’t be coming to visit them until after the New Year.”

Kristopher had gone back to Berlin in October, and during his short stay, he told his family that he had a busy couple of months. I’d helped him plan what to say to them, especially since I had such a great way with words—I didn’t, but he still drafted my help.

“And I can come?” I asked.

Kristopher tapped his glass to mine. “They’ve met two of my previous boyfriends,” he said. “But yes. I want my future palaeontologist boyfriend to be there. Someone who isn’t in this business, someone who is digging around for bones.”

I sniggered. “But you know the only bone I care about—”

“Is the one in these trousers,” he finished for me.

Staring into his eyes, I could do it all day. He made everything seem easy, and he always liked to search for the easy option to everything. Sometimes the easy option was also the one that meant he could throw money at, but he liked to suggest it whenever he could.

“I was also thinking,” he began, “if we can’t get to the cabin for Christmas, we could go away, somewhere sunny, with a beach.”

“And dinosaurs?” I asked.

“I’ll have to get my assistant to look somewhere up,” he chuckled.

His new assistant, Raquel, did everything, from booking us tables at really nice restaurants, to even helping me print off things I needed for college. She was an older woman, but she knew a lot about a lot. And I also wasn’t worried he’d try to replace me with her.

“Now you have to tell me what you want for Christmas,” I said.

He smiled, reaching out across the table. He grabbed at my hand. “I know it’s going to sound cheesy, and probably something I ripped straight from Mariah Carey, but all I want for Christmas is you.”

It was as cheesy on my ears as it was him saying it.

I couldn’t hold back my smile. I chuckled at him.

“I love you,” I blurted.

It was the first time I’d said it.

It happened out of nowhere.

Heat rose in my cheeks. I didn’t know what he was going to reply with.

We’d said we liked each other a lot, but never the other L word.

“You said it first,” he snickered. “But I wanted to. I love you more.”

“I—love you more than more.”

Kristopher clicked his tongue. “Not possible,” he said. “Because I—”

The waiter arrived with our starters. On my plate, there were nuggets in dinosaur shapes.

“That’s one surprise,” he continued. “I got them to make chicken nuggets. Handmade, you won’t find these in the freezer in the penthouse.”

The waiter smiled back at the both of us before leaving.

Kristopher had scallops on his plate, with some fancy-looking vegetables.

I had one pot with four spots filled with different sauces in the centre of my plate.

“That’s how much I love you,” he said.

That was possibly more than I could have done for him.

Staring at the food, I didn’t know whether to cry or take a picture.

“What’s the main course?”

He shook his head, smiling. “One miracle a day,” he said. “Main is what you ordered. And desert, well, you’re my dessert.”

“I—I would say you’re mine,” I began, “but I also want the ice cream.”

His words repeated back at me in the form of the dinosaur nuggets.

I love you more.

You’re my dessert.