THE NAME I BURIED
1449 Words
“No, you don’t believe me!” I yelled. My voice cracked, but I couldn’t stop. “I haven’t been talking to him. I don’t even remember how he looks!”
That was a lie.
A big, hollow, aching lie.
I remembered exactly how Damson looked. I remembered everything. The deep, warm brown of his eyes. The crooked smile that made every girl in the hallway melt. The way he used to toss his baseball glove in the air between classes. I remembered the sound of his laugh—the one that made me feel like the only girl in the world.
And I remembered Daniel’s face, too.
The way it fell the night he watched me slip out of his world and into Damson’s.
I leaned against the bathroom sink, shaking. The words from Daniel’s mother, the accusations—you were cheating on him—were still ringing in my ears. I told myself they weren’t true. That she was grieving, projecting, hating me the way she always had after my family lost everything.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about Damson.
And once his name broke free, the memories came flooding in.
Daniel and I had been best friends since childhood. From the age of six, we were a pair. We went to middle school, high school, and even college together. People used to joke that we were already married. We did everything together. Homework, sleepovers, movies, ice cream runs—he was the constant in my life before I ever knew what constancy meant.
Everyone assumed we’d end up together.
But during freshman year of college, everything changed.
That was when I met Damson.
He was everything. Tall, athletic, charismatic. A baseball star. The kind of guy people noticed when he walked into a room. He had that magnetic energy that drew girls in like moths. And yet—he walked up to me.
It was after one of his games. I wasn’t even there to watch him—I was with Daniel, as usual. I didn’t like baseball. Never understood it. I only ever went to the games because Dan didn’t like going alone.
I remember standing near the bleachers, bored, when I heard my name.
“Eleanor.”
I turned.
He was still in uniform, sweat on his brow, that familiar confident grin already in place. “I’m Damson,” he said, extending a hand. “How are you doing?”
I blinked at him, flustered. “I’m… good,” I stammered.
Daniel was beside me. Silent.
“I’d love to talk now, but I’ve got a team meeting,” Damson said. “Would you have lunch with me tomorrow?”
My heart stopped. Lunch?
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he added with a wink, jogging off.
I was blushing like an i***t. Damson. The Damson—wanted to have lunch with me.
Daniel didn’t say a word until we were halfway back to our dorm.
“Don’t be jealous,” I said, nudging him. “It’s just lunch.”
“You wouldn’t die if you skipped lunch with me for once.”
I laughed it off. But it wasn’t just once.
After that day, Damson and I grew close—fast.
We started talking, texting, meeting between classes. Before I knew it, we were dating. People stared at us on campus. I became his girl. A celebrity girlfriend. Everyone either hated me or wanted to be me.
And honestly, I didn’t care.
Damson made me feel like I mattered. Like I was beautiful and smart and worth showing off. He was warm, funny, always reassuring. After six months, he gave me a promise ring. Told me he’d replace it with an engagement ring after graduation.
I was so in love.
He even introduced me to his family. His mom adored me. His sister became my best friend.
And slowly, Daniel drifted into the background.
We still talked, sometimes. But no more movie nights. No more late dinners. No more walks between classes. I was always with Damson now. Always rushing to catch a game, or a date, or a group hangout. Daniel stopped going to baseball games. He didn’t need to say it—I knew he hated watching me cheer for someone else.
Still, I told myself it was fine.
We were just growing up.
Until our one-year anniversary.
I was glowing that day.
Damson texted me: “Be ready by 8. Dress cute. Dinner’s on me.”
I was thrilled. I got the dress he sent me—a pale blue satin with delicate straps—and matching heels. My roommate helped with my hair and makeup.
At 8:12, I rushed out of the dorm, ready to meet him.
And there, standing on the path, was Daniel.
I lit up, genuinely happy to see him.
“Where are you going, dressed like that?” he asked.
“I’m having dinner with Damson,” I said, smiling. “It’s our anniversary.”
His face didn’t move.
“I came here to talk to you,” he said.
“Can it wait till later? Damson’s—”
“This is what I want to talk about.”
I frowned. “What?”
“You’re so wrapped up in Damson,” he said bitterly. “You barely look at me anymore. Every time we talk, it’s Damson this, Damson that. I’ve loved you for six years, Eleanor. Six years.”
My breath caught in my throat.
“I’ve tried to show you,” he said. “But you never noticed. Or maybe you just didn’t care. But it only took him a few weeks to have what I’ve waited years for.”
He stepped closer.
“Tell me you’ve never had feelings for me,” he said. His hands found mine. “Tell me you didn’t feel anything. Not even once.”
“I—I had a crush on you. In middle school. But that’s not—”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Why now? Why like this?”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Then he kissed me.
I didn’t kiss him back. I was too stunned.
His hands held mine tight, like he was afraid I’d run. His mouth pressed harder against mine, trying to open me.
“Elle?”
My body froze.
Only one person ever called me that.
I turned, heart in my throat.
Damson stood there, holding a bouquet of roses. Dressed in black. His eyes wide, wounded. Silent.
“I can explain,” I whispered. “It’s not what it looked like—”
But he was already walking away.
“Damson—wait!”
I tried to run after him. Daniel held my arm.
“Let me go!” I screamed, hitting him. “Let go of me!”
I tore free and ran. I saw Damson’s car pulling out. Saw the flowers in the trash. My heart broke in two.
I fell to my knees in the street and sobbed.
He disappeared after that. No goodbye. No explanation.
He dropped out. Took time off. Transferred schools. Quit baseball.
It took me a year before I could even look Daniel in the eye again. Eventually, slowly, painfully, I let him back in. He apologized. Told me he couldn’t help how he felt.
One thing led to another. We got together. Then married.
I told myself I was happy.
That the past didn’t matter.
But then—
Our first anniversary.
The night I set the table and lit the candles.
The night I waited for Daniel to walk through the door.
When I opened it to check the porch, there were flowers waiting.
Roses.
I smiled, picking them up. My heart fluttered. He remembered.
Then I heard a car door.
Daniel was pulling into the driveway, stepping out of the car—holding another bouquet.
My smile faded.
“You got me flowers?” I asked, holding up the first bouquet.
He paused. “No… I got these,” he said, lifting the ones in his hand.
Confused, I looked down. A note was tucked into the bouquet on the porch.
I unfolded it, and my blood turned to ice.
“Happy third anniversary, Elle.
You know I’ll always love you and watch over you.
I can’t wait to see you again, my princess.
Love,
Damson.”
My knees buckled.
I don’t remember what I said to Dan.But I remember the panic. The disbelief.
Damson was gone.
Gone from my life. Gone from the school. Gone from everything.
How did he know where I lived?
How did he still… love me?
Or worse—
Was he ever really gone?
- Writer
