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