Damien Shaw My face pales for a moment. A restraining order against me? Is she listening to herself right now? I try my best not to explode: nothing good ever comes from being angry. “Imogene, you don’t have to do this. We can work this out. We can be a family—” “Just leave, please Damien.” Imogene says under her breath. I exchange a quick glance with Breonna. Imogene is clearly out of depth and now isn’t the right time to argue with her. It’s not going to look good for someone like me who’s trying to win her back. “Fine. I’ll leave.” I say and I turn towards the door. When I get to the threshold, I give her one last look before stepping out into the hallway. I can hear Breonna muttering an apology again as she follows me. “Well, that was a disaster.” Breonna says as we both step into the elevator. “I can’t believe we thought it was gonna work. Now, Imogene hates me even more.” I can’t help but think about how she could’ve figured this out. The only person that comes to mind i
Imogene Scott After Damien leaves, I drop a text for Emmett that I won’t be returning to the gallery for the rest of the day. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to get a new nanny for Lily on short notice. Getting someone like Breonna took me days. Shit! I didn’t know Damien could ever pull such a stunt on me. I hear the doorbell ring. I go and answer it and I can see from the door monitor screen that on one is there. Either way, I open the door and step out. The hallway is empty and there’s a basket of roses at my doorstep with a note in it. Curiosity overrides everything as I bend down to grab the note. It reads: I was wondering if you wanna grab dinner tomorrow night. From your admirer, Keith. His business card is also attached to it. I immediately shrug and drop the note back into the basket. Then I step back inside, leaving the basket of roses outside. I already know it’s the elevator guy, my landlord, which makes it even more weird. Who sends flowers to someone they barely know
Imogene Scott The following night is a Friday night and I’m in my room, getting dressed for something that’s more like a date. I haven’t gone on one since Damien and I got divorced so Elinor is seated at the edge of my bed, judging me with those penetrating eyes of hers. I’m meeting Keith Jordan tonight. More for Elinor’s sake than mine because she kept on insisting after she figured out who Keith is. I’m impressed, although I don’t intend to rely on any man to pay my bills. I had texted Keith earlier this evening and told him to wait in his car in the parking lot for me. I don’t want people from the building to see us together since that’s where the gossip starts. Most of all, this is just a one time thing. Either it goes well or not, I’ll tell Elinor it didn’t and he never wants to see me again and that chapter becomes officially closed. “So, how do I look?” I say, as I turn to face Elinor. I’m standing in front of a mirror in a sleeveless black corset mini dress that stop
Imogene Scott I take a long breath before I flick the lock on the door. Before I can step out, Damien steps in, causing me to stumble backwards. His eyes darken as he flicks the lock on the door. Next thing I know, his familiar clean, woody scent fills my senses. I stiffen, my eyes locking with Damien’s as he steps closer to me. His gaze is intense, jaw clenched. Every inch of him oozes intensity. “Did you come here with your landlord?” “How...never mind.” Of course he knows Keith is my landlord. He probably knows everything about Keith Jordan since Elinor told me KJ Tech and IMU are rival companies. “Whether I’m here with him or not is none of your business. We’re divorced. I can go on a date with whoever I want.” “So that’s what this is?” The tiniest flicker passes through his eyes. “A date?” “Yes.” A platonic one, and I don't intend to meet Keith again. But Damien doesn’t need to know that. I lift my chin, challenging him to step back. “He’s not your type.” “I’m trying ne
Imogene Scott I give Elinor a blow by blow of how the date went. And how I might’ve just gotten the greatest opportunity of my life. She’s happy for me and does a show of hands in an I-told-you-so way, just to let me know that I couldn’t have done it without her.The following day, I take Lily along with me to the gallery. I haven’t found a nanny for her yet and Elinor has to work. Keith sends a little contract for the art convention project and I have Emmett read through it and sign them. The rest of the day passes in a blur and I’m exhausted from juggling through looking after Lily and attending to clients. When I get home, I put Lily to sleep and take a long shower. Then go to bed without having dinner.I’m too tired to eat.Around 9pm, I get a text from Breonna. I frown as I bring the phone closer to my face for reading. [Breonna: Hi, Imogene. It’s me, Breonna. I’m so sorry about whatever you think happened. It’s on me. I really enjoyed the little time I spent with Lily and
Imogene ScottMy fists clenched beside me as I take a deep breath. I wait for the team members to exit the conference room and as soon as they’re all gone, I start talking.“Why the fuck did you not tell me Damien is involved in this project?” I say as evenly as I can, although my face is growing hot with anger. “Because I know you.” Keith replies, relaxing in his seat.His expression is neutral and it angers me more that I don't know what the fuck he’s thinking about. Or why he’s barely giving me a reaction. “You don’t know me, Keith.” I say under my breath. “Because we went on one fucking date doesn’t mean you know shit about me.”He sighs heavily as he rises to his feet. He takes a step closer to me and places a hand on my shoulder. I want to shake his hand off like it’s a snake, but I hold back. Who the fuck does he think he is to be making decisions on my behalf?“I’m so sorry. I just thought you would turn down the offer if you knew Damien was involved.”“Hell yes, I would.
Imogene Scott My heart clenches as I try to understand why on earth my father would reach out to me after so many years. For the past three years that I was gone from LA, he never tried to find me. Even way before that, he stopped contacting me when Damien and I got married. So it’s been approximately eight years. Why now?“Hello?” a voice comes from the other end of the line, hoarse and low.I force myself to hold back the pain that claws at my insides. The pain of hearing my own father’s voice after so many good years. “Hi.” I say slowly.“It’s me, Imogene.”“Dad?” I manage to say.Damien’s eyes snap up as I mention his name. He cocks his head, a lot more confused than I am. But I don’t seem to care about his reaction. He continues to look at me as I try to gather my words into one piece.“Imogene. How are you?” my father asks in a low tone.I want to yell and ask him if “how are you” is the first thing to say after abandoning me for eight years. An apology would do.“I’m fine
Imogene Scott I narrow my eyes and hope the nurse recognizes how inappropriate it is that she’s saying this to me in a gossip-py way right now. She doesn’t. “They say he brought this upon himself by…” I cut her short. “I’ll go in now.” I say rudely. As I step into the hospital room, the first thing that strikes me is the overwhelming sterility of the space. The lighting is dim, but it still catches on the white sheets, giving the room an unsettling glow. My eyes land on my father, lying motionless in the bed. His once strong and commanding presence reduced to this fragile, weakened state. It’s jarring, to see him like this. A faint beep from the heart monitor punctuates the silence. I walk toward the bed, my footsteps muted on the linoleum floor. The chair beside him creaks slightly as I sit down, and I can’t help but feel a pang of worry. His face is pale, almost ashen, and the deep lines etched into his skin seem more pronounced than ever before. His chest rises and falls wi
Damien Shaw “What else do you need me to grab? Your handbag?” I ask, watching her in the mirror as she pulls her hair up into one of those quick, messy buns that somehow still looks perfect on her.We’ve been in this house for a few days now. No noise. No schedules. Just the two of us. It’s been good but I figured she might want to stretch her wings a little. When I found out there was a small art center just half an hour from here, I booked us a private session. No people. No distractions. Just space and light and canvas.“I can grab my bag,” she says, walking to the bed where it’s tossed beside the sundress she picked earlier. It’s light yellow that ends just mid-thigh. Her bare legs steal my attention for a second longer than I mean them to.But I’m faster. I reach for the bag before she can.“You’re not allowed to carry anything,” I say, grabbing it and slinging it over my shoulder. It’s half the size of her and somehow still weighs a damn ton.She frowns at me like I’ve ju
Imogene Scott The sun is starting to go down when I wake up. The blanket is still tucked around me, and I stretch, feeling the tightness in my muscles from the nap Damien insisted I take after lunch. My body is still warm. I glance over to the clock, surprised by how much time has passed.As I sit up, Damien appears in the doorway, a small smile playing on his lips. His eyes are bright, and there’s a glint of mischief in them. He’s holding something behind his back, though I can’t tell what.“Feeling better?” he asks, his voice low, smooth. I nod slowly, still trying to shake off the drowsiness.“You wouldn’t let me sleep through the afternoon, would you?” I tease, stretching again as my arms reach above my head, my back arching. He chuckles softly, shaking his head.“I had a plan for you,” he says, stepping into the room. His smile widens. “So, I prepared a little something special for you while you were asleep.”I raise an eyebrow. “Oh really?” “Yes, really,” he says, an
Damien Shaw It’s surprising how bright the morning sun is after the heavy rain last night. I shift under the sheets and my hand reaches out instinctively, searching for Imogene, but the space beside me is empty.I sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The house is quiet. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, the cool floor sending a slight shiver up my spine.As I step into the hallway, the aroma of fresh apples wafts through the air. I follow the scent to the dining area and find Imogene seated at the table, meticulously slicing apples into thin wedges.“Why are you doing this so early in the morning?” I ask, approaching her.She looks up, a soft smile playing on her lips. “I just crave apples.”I chuckle, “You should’ve woken me up to cut them for you.”“It’s fine,” she replies, focusing back on her task.Suddenly, her phone beeps. She sets down the knife and picks up the device, answering the incoming video call. Kia's face appears on the screen, and beside her is
Damien Shaw We go back inside after the rain. I lead Imogene to the bathroom where I prepare her a hot bath. Steam curls up from the tub as I swirl my hand through the water, checking the temperature. Not too hot. Just warm enough to soothe her bones. She stands there quietly beside me. Her lashes are still damp from the rain, and I help her out of the oversized hoodie with gentle hands. My fingers graze her shoulders, and I swear, even soaked to the skin, she glows. There’s a peace in her eyes I haven’t seen in weeks.She steps into the bath with a small sigh, like her whole body is unraveling, and I wait for a second—just watching her exhale. Then I step out, give her space. She needs this.While she soaks, I clear the chaos we left behind. Plates. Crumpled napkins. Half a pint of chocolate ice cream melting on the coffee table. The rain’s still coming down in sheets outside, thick drops racing down the windowpanes.I grab a towel, ruffle it through my hair, then toss it o
Imogene Scott I slept through the night for the first time in weeks. No jolting awake. No sweat-slicked skin. No dreams of drowning in shadows. Just silence. Stillness. Peace.My eyes open slowly, blinking into the quiet morning light spilling through the gauzy white curtains. The ocean breeze flows in from the slightly open window. My head doesn’t feel like it’s been split in two.I pull the blanket down and sit up, cradling my growing belly with both hands. The twins will be here in a few weeks. Two heartbeats fluttering beneath my skin. Two tiny souls I haven't even met, but already love with an intensity that’s terrifying and beautiful all at once.My fingers press gently into the bump. “You two are going to be okay,” I whisper. “We’re all going to be okay.”A soft smile pulls at my lips. It’s real this time. Not the kind I force at dinner tables or mirror reflections. No, this one is real.“What are you smiling about?”Damien’s voice startles me. I look up as he steps into
Damien Shaw The sun spills through the curtains as my eyes flutter open. I groan, registering the soreness in my bones. I rub at my face, letting my hand fall onto the bed beside me…It’s empty.My heart kicks up, a sudden thrum against my ribs.Imogene is not here.The sheets are still warm, faintly scented with her shampoo and her pillow’s half-squashed. She couldn’t have gone far. But still… my throat tightens as I sit up fast, pushing the blanket off. My bare feet hit the cool wood floor and I stand, eyes scanning the quiet bedroom.I don’t call out. Not yet. My gut twists like it always does when she disappears from my line of sight. I step into the hallway, and I’m immediately hit with a warm, sweet and smoky smell.Pancakes?I follow the scent into the kitchen, tension loosening slightly with each step. And then I see her.She’s standing by the stove, her back to me, swaying ever so slightly to some melody in her head. She’s barefoot, in nothing but my oversized black T-shir
Imogene Scott“Mummy, how long are you going to be gone?” Lily’s small voice floats toward me.I pause, my hand hovering over the zipper of my suitcase. The last dress is folded neatly inside and I press it down before turning to face her. She’s standing by the edge of the bed.“Mummy will be back in a few days,” I say gently, kneeling in front of her and smoothing her curls with my palm. She looks at me like she’s studying me, trying to see if I’m telling the truth or just saying what I think she wants to hear.“Will Mummy be better by then?” she asks.My breath catches.Better.I nod, brushing my thumb across her cheek.“Yes, baby. Mummy will be fine.”Lily thinks about that for a second, then smiles. “Yes, then Mummy can go. Anty Kia will take good care of me.”A soft knock sounds on the door just as I press a kiss to Lily’s forehead. Sheila steps in. “Is there anything else you want to take to the water park, Lily?” she says.Before Lily can answer, Kia walks in right behind
Imogene Scott When I open my eyes, it’s dark outside.The ceiling fan spins slowly above me. My body feels warm as I place my palm on my forehead and try to register what time it is on the wall clock across the room. But my vision’s a little blurry and I can’t make out the numbers, so I sit up instead, blinking away the sleep.I swing my legs off the bed and the cold wooden floor kisses my bare feet. I tug Damien’s hoodie tighter around me before padding to the door. I didn’t mean to sleep that long. I was just going to close my eyes for a few minutes.The hallway is dim. I make my way down slowly, hand on the banister. My joints still feel a little stiff from laying in one position for too long.When I reach the last step, I spot him.Damien’s seated at the dining table, one elbow propped up, his head resting in his palm. His hair’s tousled like he’s run his hand through it a hundred times tonight.“Hey there,” I say, softly.His head snaps up.“You’re awake?” His voice is low.
Damien Shaw I help Imogene off the examination table slowly, my hands gripping her waist. She's light and it unsettles me more than I let on. She sits up and swings her legs over the edge, her fingers resting on my forearm to steady herself."I'm okay," she says softly.She’s not. But I nod anyway. We walk out of the room together and back into the office, where Dr. Rogers is typing something into her computer. The click of the keys fills the silence.She looks up and smiles, though there's a trace of something behind her eyes. Concern, maybe. Caution."Everything looks good so far," she says. "But we’re entering the home stretch now. Just a few more weeks. You both need to be careful, especially you, Imogene."Imogene nods politely. “We will.”I thank her and reach for the door handle, ready to leave. I’m already thinking about the drive home, when Dr Rogers calls out to me. “Damien, could I speak to you for a second?”I stop and glance at Imogene.“I’ll wait in the car,” she