For The Pain You Caused

Learning Us

Chapter 19

The next morning felt different.

Nothing around me had changed.

The sun still came through the curtains the same way. The sound of traffic outside my window was the same. My phone was still lying beside my pillow.

But I was different.

Because now, when I looked at Damian name on my screen, I knew exactly what he was to me.

My boyfriend.

I smiled before I even opened the message.

Good morning, girlfriend.

I stared at the word for several seconds.

Girlfriend.

It felt strange.

Not bad strange.

Beautiful strange.

I typed a reply.

Good morning, boyfriend.

His response came almost immediately.

I like the sound of that.

I laughed quietly.

Then another message appeared.

Very much.

I pressed my lips together, trying not to smile too hard.

It did not work.

From that day, everything changed in the smallest ways.

Damian started calling me more often, although he had already been calling me almost every day.

Now there was a reason behind every call.

He wanted to hear my voice.

He wanted to know how my day was going.

He wanted to know whether I had eaten.

And sometimes, he simply called and said nothing.

I would hear the sound of his car engine in the background.

Or the faint noise of people passing wherever he happened to be.

Then I would ask,

“Why did you call?”

“To hear you."

“You are hearing me now.”

“I know.”

“So why are you quiet?”

“Because I like hearing you breathe.”

I laughed.

“You are becoming very cheesy.”

“I have always been like this.”

“No, you have not.”

“You just did not know me properly before.”

That sentence stayed with me.

Because he was right.

I had known Damian for months.

But loving someone was different from knowing them.

Love made you curious about the little things.

The things nobody else noticed.

I learned that Damian hated raisins.

He learned that I could not sleep if there was too much silence in the room.

I learned that he drank his coffee without sugar when he was stressed.

He learned that I became unusually quiet whenever something was bothering me.

I learned that he liked old songs.

He learned that I could listen to the same song for three days without getting tired of it.

I learned that he sometimes forgot to eat when he was busy.

He learned that I would become angry whenever he did.

“You cannot keep working all day without eating,” I told him one afternoon.

“I am fine.”

“You are not fine.”

“I am.”

“Damian.”

He sighed.

“Amara.”

“Have you eaten?”

Silence.

I narrowed my eyes even though he could not see me.

“Damian.”

“I had something.”

“What something?”

Another silence.

Then I heard it.

That familiar movement.

His hand touching the back of his hair.

I could not see him, but I could almost picture him doing it.

“You are lying.”

“I am not.”

“You touched the back of your hair.”

He went quiet.

“How did you know?”

“I have been watching you.”

“That sounds slightly frightening.”

“It should.”

He laughed.

Then he admitted it.

“I have not eaten.”

I shook my head.

“You are impossible.”

“I was busy.”

“You are always busy.”

“I am trying to build a life.”

“And you think you need to starve while doing it?”

“No.”

“Then eat.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

I smiled.

There were moments like that when I realized how easily we had fallen into each other.

There was no effort.

No pretending.

No trying to impress one another.

We were simply becoming part of each other lives.

But Damian was still struggling.

His car remained the same small, ordinary car that had carried me through rainy nights and quiet conversations.

His clothes were still simple.

His wallet was rarely full.

There were days when he had to choose carefully where he spent his money.

Yet he never complained.

If anything, he became more determined.

One evening, we sat inside his car outside my house.

The engine was off.

The windows were slightly open.

The evening air was cool.

Damian leaned back against the seat.

“One day,” he said, “this car will be too small for me.”

I laughed.

“Why?”

“Because I will have a bigger one.”

“How big?”

“Very big.”

“Do you even know what kind?”

“No.”

I turned toward him.

“So you just want a big car?”

“I want options.”

I laughed.

He smiled.

Then his expression became serious.

“I want to build something, Amara.”

“I know.”

“No. I mean something real.”

“I know.”

“A company. Construction. Real estate. Something that belongs to me.”

“You will.”

He looked at me.

“You always say that.”

“Because I believe it.”

He looked away.

For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then he reached for my hand.

His fingers slipped between mine.

“I do not know when it will happen.”

“It does not matter.”

“It matters to me.”

“I know.”

“I want to be able to give you things.”

I looked at him.

“I do not need you to give me things.”

“I know.”

“Then stop worrying about it.”

He smiled faintly.

“I still want to.”

I squeezed his hand.

“Then build your dream. Not because you want to buy me things. Build it because it is what you want for yourself.”

He looked at our joined hands.

“You really believe in me.”

“More than you believe in yourself sometimes.”

He smiled.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He lifted my hand and kissed my fingers.

That simple gesture made my heart feel full.

I did not need expensive dinners.

I did not need fancy gifts.

I did not need a perfect relationship.

I just wanted him.

And at that time, I truly believed that was enough.

Our first official date happened a few days later.

Damian insisted.

I asked where he was taking me.

“It is a surprise.”

“I hate surprises.”

“You love surprises.”

“I hate your surprises.”

“That is different.”

He picked me up in the evening.

When I entered the car, I looked at him suspiciously.

“Where are we going?”

“You will find out.”

“Damian.”

“Yes?”

“If you take me somewhere embarrassing, I will never forgive you.”

He laughed.

“I would never.”

He drove for almost twenty minutes before pulling into a small restaurant.

I looked at the building.

Then at him.

“This is the surprise?”

“Yes.”

“It is nice.”

“I hoped you would say that.”

We sat at a small table near the window.

It was not luxurious.

There were no expensive decorations.

No dramatic music.

Just warm lights, good food and the sound of people talking around us.

But I loved it.

Because Damian kept looking at me as if I were the only person in the room.

At one point, I caught him staring.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You are staring.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

He smiled.

“I still cannot believe you are my girlfriend.”

I laughed.

“Why?”

“Because you are beautiful.”

I looked away.

“You are learning very fast.”

“I have a good teacher.”

“Who?”

“You.”

I shook my head.

“You are ridiculous.”

“And you love me.”

“That does not mean I have to tolerate everything.”

“Yes, it does.”

“No, it does not.”

We laughed.

That night became one of my favorite memories.

Not because of the restaurant.

Not because of the food.

Because of how easy it felt.

How happy.

How young we were.

How certain we were that love could protect us from everything.

After that, we started creating little traditions.

Sunday evening calls.

Late night conversations.

Unexpected visits.

Small arguments that ended with laughter.

Sometimes Damian would come to see me for only ten minutes because he had somewhere else to be.

I would complain.

“You drove all the way here for ten minutes?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“You could have called.”

“I wanted to see your face.”

I would pretend to be annoyed.

But inside, I would be melting.

There were mornings when I woke up to messages from him.

There were nights when he stayed awake because I was having trouble sleeping.

There were afternoons when I found myself smiling at nothing simply because I remembered something he had said.

Love was becoming a habit.

A beautiful one.

And somewhere between the phone calls, the small dates, the laughter and the dreams, I stopped thinking about what might happen someday.

I started believing in what we had.

I believed in him.

I believed in us.

I believed that the hardest part of our story was simply getting to each other.

I did not know that life was still preparing something for us.

I did not know that Damian was carrying things he had never told me.

Things that existed long before I met him.

Things connected to people and choices I knew nothing about.

At that time, I only knew the man sitting beside me.

The man who made me laugh.

The man who drove me home in the rain.

The man who touched the back of his hair whenever he was lying.

The man who dreamed of becoming successful.

The man who had held my hand and told me he loved me.

My Damian.

And I loved him without knowing how much that love would one day cost me.

For then, though, there was only us.

And we were happy.

Truly happy.

Before the cracks.

Before the secrets.

Before everything changed.

Before I learned that sometimes the person you love can become the person who hurts you the most.

But that was still ahead of us.

For now, I was twenty-one.

He was the man I loved.

And I thought that was all I needed to know.