Chapter 89: Chapter 89

I met Dan on one of those nights when I wandered the streets of Clarissa's parent's neighborhood. I had just been discharged from the hospital with my daughter and could not stand to be near her at that time because she reminded me so much of her father.

If I'm to be honest, she still does but I have come to terms with my fate and realize that anytime I look at her, she isn't just a part of him but of me as well, and can not be blamed for her father's behavior. I would wander the streets aimlessly until I walked into a park. I remember sitting on a seat and staring aimlessly at the children who played on the swings.

I always got glared at by their mothers but I was too out of it to even realize at that time. A man walked up to me and politely asked if he could sit beside me. I'd said nothing at that time because I just wanted to be left alone. That man was Dan. He sat down anyway and introduced himself, cracking lame jokes that didn't do him any favors.

His jokes were so bad, one day I turned to him and told him he would never make a career as a stand-up comedian. He'd thrown his head back and laughed out loud after which he said at least it got my attention. And just like that, it became a routine - me walking to the park every day and Dan meeting me there and cracking his bad jokes.

He was the one who kept me sane all those times, he just didn't know it. Later on, when I became more stable and stopped going to the park, I didn't see him again. I took up my old job at Harry's Cargo and from the urging of Clarissa, decided to see a psychologist who turned out to be Dan. We were both shocked and he was very sympathetic toward me when I told him my story.

After two sessions, he said he couldn't continue to be my psychologist because he liked me and wanted to date me. He transferred me to his colleague and after six months of practically begging me to go out on a date with him, I agreed.

"Is the wine to your taste?"

I drag my eyes away from the tablecloth where I had been unknowingly making small circles with my finger and look into steel-grey eyes.

"It's nice," but my voice lacks any warmth. I clear my throat and try again. "It tastes nice, Dan, thanks for bringing me here." I even manage a smile once I finish.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" I take my time to walk my way up from his sandy blonde hair down to the rest of his symmetrical features.

Dan is an attractive man and what any female would call a catch. He would definitely make a woman happy someday. Unfortunately, that woman is not me. I think I'm damaged. Too damaged for redemption. I close my eyes and open them after a few seconds, exhaling softly as I pick up the glass of wine I have barely tasted.

"Thanks, Dan." I manage a smile and look away from his intense stare.

The restaurant he's brought me to is vaguely familiar. Here, you don't need to book a seat ahead of time or dress formally. The table clothes are slightly worn and the ambiance is warm, then why do I feel this deep need to hightail it?

Being here is giving me a sense of Deja Vu.

It's not until the soulful voice of Erykah Badu fills the air that it hits me. I'm transported back to when it all began, to the opening of Lustre, as sights and sounds fall away.

Soft jazz music plays as we enter the restaurant. People who had been discussing animatedly at their tables upon sighting us, immediately stop and stare. They're not staring at me - no. They're staring at Ash. That presence which is like a force he unknowingly carries around with him is on full display and it attracts them.

Everyone - male or female- is attracted to Ash Thunder. He's a god in a room full of mortal men, a donut on a table of Brussels sprouts, he's as mesmerizing as a brightly lit and twinkling Christmas tree in a pitch-black room. It's so obvious that everyone's lust pit is reacting to him.

Anzel shows us to our seats and for the next hour, we're serenaded by various Erykah Badu and Jill Scott songs as they play on repeat until we roll our eyes and practically beg Anzel to change it. Ash takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor, and in full view of everyone, he nuzzles my cheek and kisses me until my lips are sore and swollen.

When I'm dizzy and can't take anymore, he leads me back to the table where we gouge ourselves on sweet honeysuckle wine and steak, laced with onions and garlic. At one point, his hand sneaks just under the hem of my blouse so he can cover a small stroke of my skin in that hazy way you do when you're too drunk to care if people notice or not.

Later on, when we got home, I swore to Ash that I could smell the honeysuckle on my clothes, but he swore the only things he could smell were the onions and garlic lingering on my breath.

"Alicia!"

I furiously blink away the pat and settle on the present as I focus on Dan's worried gaze. "How long was I out of it?" He shakes his head and looks away but I grip his hand and tighten my hold on it. "Tell me!"

He shrugs and manages a weak smile. "What can I say - I'm a patient man."

Translation: I was out for a long time.

I feel sick to my stomach so much that when the food comes, all I'm able to do is play with it. Dan says nothing and decides to feed me small morsels from his plate, all the while talking to me about one of his patients who shares a similar story to mine.

"Aren't you doctors supposed to keep patients' information confidential?" The groove between my eyes pinch, because why the fuck would he tell me something so personal?

He smirks and it's a rare sight. "That, my dear, is a story that never happened."

He points to his plate and that's when I realize all the food is gone and it's all in my belly. "You've got to be kidding me. Is that what you were taught in school? Use the story technique to bamboozle a patient and get her to eat?"

The hurt that flashes across his face makes me realize I've gone too far, but he masks it by letting out a chuckle.

"Naah! That was all me. I needed you to eat and it worked."

I switch my full plate with his now empty one because we're not leaving here until he gets some food into his system. As he eats, albeit reluctantly, I finish off the remaining wine in my glass and even pour another helping for myself and him as well. By the time dinner is over, I feel nicely buzzed and I'm enjoying Dan's company.

Maybe I'm not damaged goods after all. Maybe there's still hope for me.