Aria pov
"Then let prove it." He stepped closer. I could see the stubble on his jaw, darker now in the evening light. "Every day, for however long it takes. Let prove I’m not going anywhere."
"And if you can’t? If one day you wake up and realize this is too hard, too ssy, too complicated?"
"Then I’ll push through anyway." His hands frad my face. His palms were warm against my cheeks. "Because the alternative—a life without you and Noah—is worse than any difficulty."
I wanted to believe him. But belief was a luxury I couldn’t afford yet.
The security system beeped from the living room. Soone moving on the balcony cara. We both tensed, but then a voice ca through the intercom. "Just Martinez doing rounds, Mr. Blackwood."
Damien relaxed but I didn’t.
"Do you have feelings for him?" The question burst out him "For Lucas?"
I blinked at the sudden change of topic. "What? No. Why would you"
"He said he loves you." Damien’s voice was careful. "And he’s a good man. Stable, kind, successful. Everything I wasn’t years ago."
"But he’s not you."
Damien’s eyes searched mine. "Would it matter if I did?" I countered. "Have feelings for him? You don’t own , Damien."
"I know." His voice cracked. Actually cracked, like sothing breaking. "But it would destroy , Aria. Knowing you could choose soone else. Soone who didn’t fail you soone worthy of you."
"Stop." I pressed my hand to his chest, his heart was racing under my palm. Fast, hard beats that matched my own. "Just stop. I don’t want Lucas. I don’t want anyone else, i want"
"What?" His hand covered mine, pressing it harder against his chest. "Tell what you want."
"You." The word ca out barely a whisper. My throat was tight, making it hard to speak. "I want you and it terrifies ."
His whole body shuddered. I felt it run through him, head to toe. Like an electric current.
"Aria"
"Don’t." I stepped back before I could do sothing stupid. My back hit the wall. The paint was cool through my thin shirt. "Don’t say anything. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s late, I’m tired, I’m not thinking clearly"
"You’re thinking perfectly clearly." He followed . Planted his hands on the wall on either side of my head. Boxing in but not touching . "And you just told exactly what I needed to hear."
I could sll him. That mix of cologne and soap and sothing that was just him that made my head spin.
"Damien"
"Do you know what it does to ?" His voice was roughly low. The kind of voice that made heat pool in my stomach. "Hearing you say you want ? After everything I did, everything I destroyed—you still want ."
"I shouldn’t."
"No, you shouldn’t." He pulled close. His arms went around , solid and strong. "You should hate . Should’ve moved on. Should’ve chosen soone like Lucas who would worship you from day one."
"But I didn’t."
"But you didn’t." His forehead pressed to mine. I could feel his breath on my face. "And I’m selfish enough, broken enough, desperate enough to be grateful for that."
My hands were on his chest. I could feel his muscles under the thin fabric of his shirt. Feel the rise and fall of his breathing.
"We’re a ss," I whispered.
"The biggest ss I’ve ever seen." He smiled against my hair. I felt the curve of his lips. "But we’re our ss. And sohow, that makes it perfect."
I pulled back to look at him. His eyes were dark in the dim hallway. "Nothing about this is perfect."
"No," he agreed as his thumb traced my jawline. The touch sent shivers down my spine. "But it’s real. Complicated and painful and terrifying—but real, and after years of regrets and what-ifs, I’ll take real over perfect any day."
I wanted to kiss him. Wanted to forget about Marcus and the danger and fear and just lose myself in him. My eyes dropped to his mouth. His lips were slightly parted. I could feel the heat radiating off his body.
But Noah’s door was right there. Just a few feet away and Marcus was out there sowhere. Planning. Waiting. And nothing was resolved. We were standing in a heavily guarded penthouse because a psychopath wanted us dead.
This wasn’t the ti no matter how much my body disagreed.
"We should sleep," I said instead. My voice ca out hoarse. "Separate rooms with our clear heads."
Disappointnt flickered across his face. His jaw tightened. His arms loosened around . But he nodded. "Whatever you need."
"What I need is for you to not give up on ." I touched his face. The stubble rasped against my fingertips. "Even when I push you away. Even when I’m scared and angry and impossible. Don’t give up."
"Never." He caught my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. His lips were soft, warm. The touch sent heat straight through . "You’re stuck with , Aria Monroe. For better or worse."
Never." He caught my hand and pressed a soft kiss to my palm before I could pull away. Warm. Steady. Too steady for the chaos in my chest. "You’re stuck with , Aria Monroe. For better or worse."
"We’re not officially married," I said, my voice thinner than I wanted. "To the world we’re divorced and separated. I was... honestly shocked when you told we didn’t finalize the divorce." The mory of that mont hit again disorienting . "I didn’t even know there were preliminary docunts versus the actual final decree. I thought it was all one thing. I thought we signed, and that was it."
He didn’t interrupt, he just watched , jaw tight.
"I rember being pushed out of my parent house years ago thinking, okay... this is done, this is the line. This is the end." My throat tightened. "And then you co back and tell it wasn’t? That the papers sitting in so drawer weren’t the real ones?"
Damien exhaled, slow and heavy. "I was a selfish bastard who wanted power over you, even though I pushed you away," he said, eyes narrowing—not in anger, but in regret. Real regret. "As for us not being officially married... it’s just a matter of ti."
"That’s not the point, Damien," I said. My hands were trembling now, so I curled them into fists. "I didn’t understand how the divorce wasn’t finalized. I kept replaying it in my mind. I signed everything they put in front of . I did my part. I didn’t know you didn’t do yours."
His expression softened, but not in a comforting way. More like sothing in him caved in and didn’t bother hiding it.
"I know it confused you," he said quietly. "I know it wasn’t fair. You were trying to move on, trying to start over, and here I was... clinging to whatever pathetic scrap of connection I still had to you."
My stomach twisted. "You could’ve just signed it and also handed the real docunts to sign."
"I couldn’t," he said, and the honesty in his voice was almost painful. "Every ti I tried to sign my part, sothing kept stopping . I’d sit there, pen in hand, staring at the last page... and I just couldn’t make myself do it. Because signing it ant accepting that everything between us was truly over."
I swallowed hard as he stepped closer, not touching this ti, just close enough that I could hear the breath he let out.
"But we will be married again," he said, voice low but steady. "When you’re ready. When you trust again, when we’re not drowning in danger and fear. We’ll do it right this ti."
"That’s very presumptuous."
"That’s very certain." He smiled, not the sad smile from before. A real one. "Because I know sothing you don’t."
"What’s that?"
"That you’re already falling for ." His thumb brushed my jaw. The touch was gentle but it burned. "Just like I fell for you years too late. But this ti, I’ll be here to catch you."
Before I could respond, he kissed my forehead and walked away. His footsteps were quiet on the hardwood. I heard his bedroom door open and close.
I stood in the hallway, my heart pounding, my mind racing. My whole body felt hot and cold at the sa ti. My hands were shaking as I pressed them against the wall to steady them.
The hallway was quiet now. Just the hum of the air conditioning. The distant sound of traffic from far below. The soft beep of the security system doing its checks.
He was right. Damn him, he was right.
I was falling.
And it was absolutely terrifying.
I pushed off the wall but my legs felt weak. I made my way to my bedroom. The bed looked too big, too empty. I could go to him. Walk down the hall, open his door and let this happen.
But I didn’t.
Instead I climbed into bed. Pulled the covers up and stared at the ceiling.
Sleep wouldn’t co. I knew it wouldn’t . But I closed my eyes anyway. And tried not to think about Damien down the hall. I tried not to think about the way his hands felt on my face. The way his voice sounded when he said my na.
I tried but failed.
Two Days Later
I was reviewing contracts in Damien’s study when my phone rang. A number I hoped never to see again, it was my mother.
My thumb hovered over the decline button. Every instinct scread to ignore it, to block the number, to pretend Eleanor Monroe didn’t exist.
But curiosity won out.
"Hello?" My voice ca out colder than I intended.
"Aria." My mother’s cultured tone hadn’t changed. "I’m so glad you answered. I wasn’t sure you would."
"What do you want, Eleanor?"
A pause. She hated when I called her by her first na instead of ’Mother.’
"I wanted to see you and my grandson." Her voice softened artificially. "Darling, surely we can put the past behind us?"
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