Especially for You

That night, Cynthia couldn't fall asleep. She sat on the edge of the enormous bed, absentmindedly twisting the hem of her pajama sleeve between her fingers. The room was silent except for the ticking of the antique clock hanging on the wall.

It was a mansion that most people would dream of living in. Yet she had never felt so confined. She looked around the room and sighed.

"I can't stay here like this."

She barely had any clothes. Her sketchbooks were still at her apartment. Her painting supplies were scattered across her tiny room. Even her university books were lying on her desk exactly where she had left them. How was she supposed to continue living here?

Her thoughts slowly drifted toward Damien. He was strange.

When Mia had explained the Companion Program, she had imagined something entirely different. Old businessmen are looking for someone to accompany them to dinners. Divorced men searching for companionship. Lonely millionaires want someone to end their loneliness. 

But Damien wasn't like any of them. He barely spoke. He rarely smiled. He spent most of his evenings drinking alone.

His eyes always looked tired, almost as though he hadn't slept properly in years.

And then there was the biggest mystery of all. Why had he chosen her? She wasn't a model. She wasn't famous. She wasn't even confident. Out of all the women who had joined the program...

Why her?

She rested her chin on her knees.

"Just to cuddle?"

The thought sounded ridiculous even inside her own head.

"No..."

She frowned.

"There has to be another reason."

Was he recently divorced? Did someone leave him? Did he lose someone he loved?

Or... Was he simply afraid of being alone?

She couldn't understand him. The only thing she knew was that whenever she looked into his eyes, she didn't see happiness. She saw exhaustion. The kind that settled deep inside a person.

The sound of footsteps outside interrupted her thoughts.

She immediately sat upright.

The bedroom door opened.

Damien walked inside.

He was still wearing his white shirt from earlier, though the sleeves were folded to his elbows. His tie was gone, and the first two buttons of his shirt had been left undone.

His phone was in one hand.

A pair of large headphones rested around his neck.

He didn't acknowledge her immediately.

Instead, he walked toward the armchair and placed his phone on the side table.

Cynthia stood.

"Mr. Blackwood."

He glanced at her briefly.

"What?"

"I... wanted to talk."

He looked at her for a second before giving a dry laugh.

"If you're going to ask about leaving this estate again, don't."

She hesitated.

"I just wanted to explain..."

"I already know your explanation."

His voice remained flat.

"I allowed you to visit your brother."

"I know."

"And you assumed that meant you could return whenever you pleased."

"It wasn't like that."

"No?"

"My brother had just come out of surgery."

"I know."

"I couldn't leave him immediately."

He folded his arms.

"And yet you left me waiting."

Cynthia lowered her eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"I've heard that word enough."

She clenched her hands together.

"In your position, I understand why you're upset."

"Do you?"

She nodded.

"I should've called."

"You should've."

"I wasn't thinking."

"No."

"You were only thinking about your brother."

She looked up.

"Yes."

For the first time, there was no anger in her voice.

Only honesty.

"He's all I have."

Damien's expression remained unreadable.

Several seconds passed.

Neither of them spoke.

Finally, Cynthia gathered enough courage to ask the question that had been bothering her since the day she arrived.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

She almost smiled.

"Why did you choose me?"

He looked at her.

She continued carefully.

"There were so many women there."

"You could've chosen anyone."

"So..."

"Why me?"

His gaze lingered on her for several moments.

"I don't answer unnecessary questions."

Her shoulders dropped.

"I thought so."

She turned away, disappointed.

Just as she was about to sit down, Damien spoke again.

"You know what I dislike the most?"

She looked back.

"What?"

"People who don't honor agreements."

His voice was calm.

"I paid a hefty sum for the work you're supposed to do."

The words stung.

"I'm not running a charity here."

He paused.

"Especially for you."

Cynthia stared at him.

Especially for you?

What did that even mean?

Had she done something before meeting him?

Did he know something about her?

Or...

Was he simply trying to make her feel guilty?

She searched his face for an answer.

There was nothing.

Only the same cold expression.

"I understand," she said quietly.

"Do you?"

"I signed the contract."

"Then act like it."

With that, Damien picked up his phone and placed the headphones over his ears.

The conversation was over. He didn't look at her again. For someone surrounded by unimaginable wealth, he looked remarkably lonely. Cynthia found herself watching him. Trying to understand him. Trying to understand who he is. 

She couldn't. Nothing about him made sense.

He could be considerate, but he's unbearably cold.

Maybe he was angry with something else. Or someone else. Eventually, Damien switched off the lights, leaving only the soft glow of the moon spilling through the curtains. The room became quiet once again.

Cynthia slowly settled onto the bed.

She turned toward the ceiling, unable to sleep.

Her mind replayed everything that had happened over the past few days.

Leo's surgery. The strange rules. Damien's words.

'Especially for you.'  Why had he emphasized those words? Did he know her? Had someone spoken badly about her? Or was he simply trying to remind her that she was only here because of money? She sighed softly and cuddled Damien, as that's her duty. He's not as rigid like the first time. His muscles relaxed and he fell asleep. 

And somehow, she felt Damien Blackwood was carrying a secret far heavier than hers.