[EVE]
"Eve?"
I looked up to see Dean standing in the doorway of the kitchen, a mug of hot chocolate in each hand. He walked over and handed one without a word, then flopped down beside , kicking his feet up on the coffee table like he owned the place.
"Thanks," I murmured, curling my hands around the mug.
He didn’t say anything at first. Just sipped from his cup and stared at the wall like it had insulted his fashion sense.
Then, casually: "You know I was serious about the emotional garbage comnt, right?"
I let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-sob.
"Yeah," I whispered. "I know."
He bumped his shoulder against mine. "But I’m proud of you."
I looked at him, surprised.
"For what?"
"For standing your ground. For not letting him pull you back into sothing that would’ve broken you again. That takes guts, sis."
I smiled faintly.
"I didn’t do it to be brave," I admitted. "I did it because I had to."
"Still counts."
We sat there for a long ti in comfortable silence.
Eventually, Damien and Dante joined us, plopping down on the rug with bowls of popcorn and muted action movies playing in the background. My parents ca in, my mother tossing a blanket over us all like it was a family tradition.
And slowly, warmth crept back in.
Not the sa warmth as before—but a steadier one. The kind that ca from people who would never walk out the door and leave behind.
Family. My real family.
My anchor.
My safe place.
Outside, the wind picked up, brushing against the windows like fingers tapping on glass.
But inside, I was calm.
Not whole. Not yet.
But healing.
And that, for now, was enough.
I had everything I needed right here. With my family by my side, I was truly content.
It was strange, in a way. A part of had once believed that my happiness depended on him—on us. That without Cole Fay, I would sohow be lesser, a half-ford version of myself waiting to be completed.
But that illusion had long since shattered. And sitting here now, rembering him kneel with regret etched into every line of his face, I didn’t feel angry anymore. I didn’t feel bitter.
I just felt . . . free.
====
Damien had always thought he had his future figured out.
Standing now in a polished New York apartnt beside Eve—who had finally found her own kind of peace—he couldn’t help but feel the quiet emptiness crawling beneath his ribs.
The city buzzed outside with the life he once craved. The skyline glimred like it promised everything a man like him should want—success, status, structure.
But tonight, all he could think about was her.
Estelle.
He rember the way she laughed. Not the polite kind, not the stifled chuckle that high-society girls rehearsed behind glass smiles. Estelle’s laugh was ssy, loud, genuine. It burst out of her like sunlight through a cracked window, refusing to be hidden.
And now she was gone.
Just . . . gone.
No final words. No confrontation. Just a note scrawled in that slightly crooked handwriting of hers:
"You’re free, Damien. I’m not going to wait to be unchosen. Goodbye."
He could find her if he wanted to. He knew that. One call. One trace. One flick of power and she’d be standing in front of him again. But a part of him—maybe the honest part—didn’t want to.
Because what would he even say?
"I was an asshole?"
"I chose the ghost of a dream over the woman who brought back to life?"
"I missed you every single day since?"
No.
That would be too kind to himself.
He hadn’t just let her go. He made her feel like she was temporary. Like she was nothing more than a substitute for the love he’d chased for years.
Kelsey.
The model. The icon. The girl he’d loved since they were young. Always poised, always composed. Her beauty was a weapon—sharp, flawless, and impossible to ignore.
She knew how to smile just enough to charm a room and frown just enough to remind people of her power. Every gesture calculated. Every step rehearsed. Even her laughter had edges to it.
And for years, Damien had adored her from afar. She was what every man in their circle wanted. Polished. Perfect. Unreachable.
And then, out of nowhere, she said yes.
She accepted the engagent he’d proposed half out of pride, half out of desperation.
And suddenly Damien was back in her world—where emotions ca in carefully folded silk packages, where love ant appearances and control.
That should’ve made him happy. Being engage to Kelsey was what he wanted since day one.
Instead, he felt hollow.
Because in the space where joy should have lived, he kept seeing Estelle.
Her ssy hair, her oversized hoodies, the way she twirled in the kitchen while making instant ran at 2 AM, laughing at her own terrible jokes.
Her eyes lit up like the world was an adventure she couldn’t wait to explore—even when it was just a walk to the grocery store in the rain.
She didn’t care if she spilled sauce on her dress or if her mascara smudged from crying too hard at a sad movie. She wasn’t trying to be perfect.
She was real.
And him—he is a fool—he treated her like a placeholder.
It wasn’t until she was gone that he realized how deeply she’d embedded herself in his life. She had crept in through the cracks, lted past his defenses with all her strange taphors and gummy bear bribes.
She didn’t demand space in his life—she simply existed in it so naturally, so joyfully, that he forgot how he’d ever lived without her.
And when she smiled at him—God, when she smiled—it felt like the whole world tilted toward the sun.
He didn’t even deserve it.
That kind of smile. That kind of faith. That kind of heart.
Damien stared out the window now, trying to rember what it felt like to be with Kelsey. And all he could rember was the pressure.
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