"I have no idea what you’re talking about!" I quickly regained my composure, else it would be too easy for my panic to give away.
Damon casually pocketed my phone and asked , a smirk playing on his lips, "Oh really? Eliana, you’ve gone to great lengths to avoid even making up a story about marrying Jones. But honestly, I was rather pleased when I found out it was a lie."
Just a couple of days ago, my mother had been urging to accept Jones, warning that eventually Damon would discover our sham marriage. Much to my surprise, he had found out today.
My thoughts were a chaotic ss. I forced myself to calm down. "I haven’t made up anything. I am married to Jones. Even though I don’t have feelings for him, I chose to be with him for the sake of our children. It’s perfectly normal."
ntioning the children caused Damon’s face to darken. "Eliana, I hope for your sake that you’re telling the truth about the children. If you’ve lied about that too, making so other man the father, you’ll have to face the consequences."
Facing Damon’s threats, I couldn’t deny a sense of fear. I knew this day would co eventually, but it had arrived far too soon.
Serena and Brandon were so young. I feared the damage a custody battle would cause.
"Damon, I’ve never lied to you. I am married to Jones, even though we haven’t formally registered our marriage yet. We’ve had a simple ceremony among friends and family, and that’s enough. As for the children, you’ve seen the paternity test results. There’s no need to embarrass yourself, is there?"
I forced myself to et Damon’s gaze, trying hard to appear unfazed.
Damon’s eyes were sharp, as if they could dissect a person’s soul. It took great courage to hold his gaze. He was experienced enough to catch soone in a lie.
"As long as you haven’t registered your marriage with Jones, you’re not married," Damon finally spoke again, steering the conversation back to the matter of going ho. "I’ll take you ho. Just follow ."
I was initially hesitant, but my mind was in turmoil. I didn’t have the ntal energy to resist, so I followed him out.
Damon’s car was waiting outside, the driver ready for us. The driver looked sowhat surprised to see , but he didn’t say anything.
I got into the back seat, and Damon joined . After he gave the driver an address, he fell silent.
He had clearly had a bit too much to drink that night; he leaned back, eyes closed, my gaze.
"Do you want to say sothing?" He finally broke the silence, his voice hoarse and languid, adding a seductive quality to the confined space of the car.
"No, I was just chatting with your mom. I hope it made so difference." I tried to deflect with a casual topic.
"Thank you," Damon responded, closing his eyes again to rest.
I looked at the bag in my hands, pondering over what to do next. Knowing that Damon was aware of my unregistered marriage with Jones, I was certain he’d bother again. His words had made his intentions quite clear.
Just when the atmosphere had once again fallen into silence, the car screeched to a halt. I was thrown forward, but Damon’s strong hand around my waist held back, pulling against his firm chest.
The mixed scent of alcohol and tobacco filled my nostrils, and I realized I was in Damon’s arms.
"I’m sorry, Mr. Coleman, a car suddenly ca out of nowhere. I didn’t see it..." the driver nervously explained.
Damon’s hand remained on my waist, steady and unyielding.
"It’s fine, keep driving," he said, his chest vibrating with his words.
I awkwardly extricated myself from his grip and sat back properly. The close physical contact stirred feelings of familiarity and strangeness within .
"Are you okay?" Damon sounded unexpectedly pleased.
"I’m fine. Sorry, I wasn’t seated properly," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
"No problem," Damon responded, his reply brief and to the point.
When we were close to my house, I asked the driver to stop. If my mother saw with Damon, I’d have to endure another storm of criticism. I was tired of it all.
Damon understood my decision and didn’t object. After I got out of the car, he didn’t leave imdiately but watched until I reached my doorstep.
I saw his car slowly driving away, disappearing into the night, just as I closed the door.
As soon as I shut the door, my mother’s voice echoed behind , "Where’s your car? Who brought you ho?"
Just hearing her voice sent chills down my spine, a sense of oppression filling . I turned to see her looking at suspiciously, waiting for an answer.
I avoided her gaze and replied nonchalantly, "My car’s in for repairs. I took a cab ho."
"And where were you tonight?" she asked.
"Mom, I’m not a child anymore. Do I have to report to you every ti I go out?" I felt a surge of anger. If she found out that Damon knew about my unregistered marriage with Jones, she would use it as an excuse to force to marry Jones.
Her face fell, disappointnt evident in her voice, "Eliana, I never interfered with your life, even when you married Damon. But now, you’re disappointing more and more."
I didn’t respond, heading to my bedroom instead.
Serena and Brandon were already asleep. They were such well-behaved children, easy to take care of even when I wasn’t ho.
My mother followed into the room. "Since you don’t want to interfere, I won’t. You father and I have discussed it. With no one to manage your uncle’s company, we thought we should step in. From now on, we won’t interfere in your life, as long as you take good care of Serena and Brandon!"
I was taken aback.
My parents were going to manage my uncle’s company. So, it’s just Norah and I left to look after the two kids.
It’s not that the kids are hard to handle, it’s just that I feel I would miss my parents. Sure, Mom and I had our disagreents, but I never held grudges. Especially with her health not being the best, if she gets herself worked up, I’m afraid it might wear her down.
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