Elena’s pov
Damien’s apartment building looked worse than I remembered, the peeling paint and flickering hallway lights buzzing like dying insects.
Nothing like the life he pretended to have.
I’d been calling him for an hour, but no response.
5 missed calls, 7 ignored texts.
Now I stood outside apartment 4B, knocking hard enough to rattle the door.
Nothing.
I banged again, harder.
“Damien, I know you’re in there, your car is outside. Open the door.”
Nothing again.
Then I heard footsteps, slow and heavy.
When he opened the door, I forgot how to breathe.
He looked terrible.
His hair messy, eyes red, and he was wearing wrinkled clothes like he hadn’t bothered changing in days.
“Elena,” he said softly.
“We need to talk.” I pushed past him without waiting.
“Now.”
Inside his apartment was a mess.
Old takeouts, papers on the floor, a blanket on the couch like he hadn’t slept in his bed for days.
“What are you doing here?” He asked quietly.
“You know why.” I faced him.
“The divorce papers. You’re signing them tonight.”
Something flickered across his expression before he said, “I threw them away.”
”You what?”
”The papers you gave me when you ended us,” he said, meeting my eyes.
“I threw them away, I’m not signing anything that ends us permanently.”
The words hit me like a slap.
“They weren’t ‘papers’, Damien. They were divorce papers!” I snapped.
“I know.” His voice cracked.
“But I didn’t care.”
I took in a slow breath, reached into my bag and pulled out fresh copies.
Adrian arranged new ones earlier and left them in my car.
Bless him.
My brother never missed a detail.
I tossed the papers and they scattered everywhere.
“Sign them so I can move on with my life.”
”No,” he said, staring at me.
He didn’t even look down at them.
“I’ll work for you. I will accept every humiliation and consequence of what I did to you, Elena. But I won’t sign those papers. I can’t lose you.”
I stared at him, disbelieved.
“You don’t get to say no,” I said sharply.
“You already lost me when you chose Victoria over me every day.”
”I know.” He swallowed. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
“I know what I did.”
”Then why are you doing this now?” My voice rose.
“Why are you suddenly fighting for someone you treated like trash?”
”If I sign those papers, I lose you.” His eyes were wet.
“And I can’t do that.”
”You already lost me, Damien!” My voice shook, years of hurt pouring out.
“You lost me every night you came home late. Every time you made me feel worthless.”
”I know,” he whispered, stepping closer.
“God, Elena, I know.”
He exhaled sharply.
“I was blind and stupid, and I didn’t see what I had until you were gone. So yes, I’m sorry Elena, but I won’t let you go without fighting.”
I took a slow breath.
“You don’t get to fight now, it’s too late.”
He shook his head.
“It’s never too late. Remember?”
Our eyes met, and his words hit something raw in me.
That used to be our little phrase we tossed back and forth to push each other forward.
Back when we still believed in each other.
“It is,” I said, my voice cracking as the tears came.
“You gave everything to her. I got nothing.”
”Victoria meant nothing to me,” he said, stepping closer.
“She was a mistake. A distraction. I was trying to prove something to myself, and I…”
”Don’t.” I lifted a hand and backed away.
“Don’t try to lie to me right now. I saw you, Damien. God, I remember it like it was yesterday.”
He frowned.
“What are you talking about?”
”A year ago,” I said, looking at him.
The memory burned me.
“I was walking home from the grocery store. It was raining, I was rushing home and then I saw you. Leaving that Italian place on Fifth. You were laughing like she was your entire world.”
I let out a slow breath.
“That was the moment I realized my husband was in love with another woman.”
Damien’s face went white.
“I went home and cried for hours.” My voice cracked.
“Then I made dinner and pretended nothing happened when you came home smelling like her perfume.”
Silence fell between us, heavy and thick.
I could hear my heart breaking all over again.
I started regretting coming over.
I bent down and picked up the papers from the floor.
“Sign them. Then you and Victoria can go live whatever life you want.”
I tossed them to him and he caught it.
“Where is she, anyway?” I added, harshly.
“She was full of drama at the gala. She said someone hired her to break us up.”
He blinked.
“She told you too?”
I frowned.
“What do you mean ‘too’?”
”She came to me last week,” he said slowly.
“Saying someone hired her to sabotage us.”
My mind raced.
I was so sure it was Margaret but apparently there was someone else, according to Victoria.
“Fine.” I headed for the stairs, calling out, “Victoria! You can come down now.”
“She’s not here.”
I turned to him.
“Then where is she? I assumed she’ll be all moved in by now.”
”I threw her out.
All of them.
I’m done with that life.” His voice softened.
“I just want you back.”
I stared at him.
At the man who suddenly seemed like a stranger.
“I need you to sign the papers,” I said firmly.
“No.” He stepped closer, voice low.
“I’ll do anything else. Anything.” He exhaled.
“But I won’t sign away the last tie I have to you.”
”Why?” My voice broke.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
He looked right at me.
“Because I love you, Elena. And I’m not ready to lose you forever.”
The words hit me so hard, I stumbled backward.
“You don’t get to love me now…”
”I know.” His voice trembled.
“But I do.”
”You hurt me, Damien.” My voice cracked.
“You really hurt me.”
”I know.” His hand lifted, like he wanted to touch me, but he stopped himself.
“And I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”
”I’m leaving.” I grabbed the papers from his hands and headed toward the door.
“And you’ll regret not signing this.”
He didn’t move.
He just stared at me, looking broken.
I scoffed and turned away.
I was already at the door when he spoke again.
“Elena… You deserved better. You always did.”
I exhaled softly and walked out without responding.
I didn’t breathe until I reached the parking lot.
I leaned against my car, forcing air into my lungs as tears threatened to spill.
I hated that he could still do this to me.
Damn him.
My phone buzzed.
Adrian.
“He won’t sign,” I texted.
“Then we’ll force him another way,” he replied.
I stared up at Damien’s building looming above me, and I hated that some part of me, some small traitorous part, was relieved he refused to sign.