LOGINSixty-Two“What is wrong with you, Aria?” she whispered to herself, fingers gripping the cold rail of the balcony. “You are just his doctor. You are here to work. Nothing more.”Her voice broke on the last word.She lifted her hand and covered her mouth, as if that could stop the thoughts spilling out. The city below looked the same as always. Cars moving. People living. A normal world that didn’t know how tangled her own had become in just a few hours.Damien was asleep inside. Finally. Slumped, restless even in sleep, like his body didn’t trust rest anymore. She had stayed longer than she should have. She knew that. She had crossed a line she swore she would never cross.And the worst part was not that she stayed.It was that she didn’t regret it.The balcony door creaked softly behind her.Aria stiffened. She didn’t turn right away. She already knew who it was. She had felt his presence earlier, before Damien fell asleep. A quiet watcher. A heavy silence that didn’t belong to the
Chapter Sixty One Damien came back inside hard enough that the door behind him shook. Not slammed just closed with the kind of force that came from anger he didn’t know where to put. Clara had already said no. He wasn’t welcome. Not today. Not like this. The rejection followed him up the stairs, clinging to his back, sticking to his skin.His steps were uneven. One foot missed a stair and he grabbed the railing, laughing under his breath like it was funny. Like his body betraying him was a joke. By the time he reached the top floor, his breathing was off, his head spinning, his thoughts tripping over each other.He sat down on the floor near the hallway wall, back sliding down until he was fully seated. The carpet scratched his palms as his hands shook. He stared at them, annoyed.“Get it together,” he muttered. “Get it together.”The words didn’t work.Aria heard the sound from the kitchen. The uneven steps. The laugh that didn’t sound right. She didn’t rush. She didn’t panic. She
Chapter Sixty“Damn it, Clara, pick your phone,” Damien muttered, his palm slamming against the steering wheel. The sound echoed inside the car, sharp and angry. He checked the screen again. No answer.He leaned back, dragged a hand down his face, and tried again.This time, the call connected.“Hello?” Clara’s voice came through, calm, almost tired.Relief rushed through him. “Clara. Finally,” he said quickly. “Can I come over?”“No, Damien,” she replied at once.The word hit him harder than he expected. “Why?” he asked. “I just want to see you. I need to talk to you.”“You hurt me,” she said softly.He sat up straighter. “Hurt you? Clara, I would never ”“You embarrassed me,” she continued, her tone controlled, careful. “You proposed to me in public, Damien. After I told you again and again I wasn’t ready.”“I was emotional,” he said, his voice rising. “I was in love. Isn’t that what people do when they love someone?”“That’s exactly the problem,” she replied. “You act before you th
Chapter Fifty-NineThe smell hit her first.Alcohol. Sour. Sharp. Everywhere.Aria stood at the doorway for a second, her hand still on the door handle, her towel barely dry on her hair. The bed was a mess. Sheets soaked. The floor splashed. A bucket overturned like it had been kicked away in anger.Damien had thrown up everywhere.She didn’t sigh. She didn’t complain. She only stepped inside and tied her hair back with the band on her wrist. This wasn’t new. Cleaning after him had become part of her nights.She stripped the sheets carefully, folding them away from herself so the mess wouldn’t touch her skin. Her fingers shook, not from disgust, but from how tired she felt deep inside. She wiped the mattress, changed the covers, scrubbed the floor with a cloth she found in the bathroom. The smell refused to leave, no matter how much water she used.The bathroom door opened.Damien came out.His hair was wet. His face looked rough, eyes red, jaw tight. He didn’t look at the mess. He di
---Chapter Fifty EightThe door opened without a knock.Aria had just stepped out of the bathroom, her hair still wet, water sliding down her neck. She had wrapped the towel around herself tightly, already tired, already ready to sleep on the floor like she always did. The room smelled of soap and warm steam.Then she saw him.Damien stood by the door, his jacket half off, his shirt loose, his eyes red and empty at the same time. There was alcohol on his breath, strong enough that she smelled it before he even spoke.She froze.For a second, neither of them moved.He didn’t look at her the way men usually did. There was no hunger. No desire. Just something broken sitting behind his eyes. He stared at her like she wasn’t fully there, like she was part of the wall or the furniture.Then he laughed.It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t funny either. Just a short sound, dry and bitter.“So this is home,” he said, his voice rough. “This is what waits for me.”Aria tightened the towel around her ches
Chapter Fifty SevenDamien arrived at the restaurant early.Too early.The waiter had already shown him to a quiet table near the window. Soft music played somewhere behind him. Glasses clinked. Low voices filled the space. He sat there with his back straight, his phone on the table, checking the time again and again.She was late.He told himself not to overthink it. Clara was always late. She liked making an entrance. Still, his fingers kept tapping the table, slow at first, then faster.He ordered water. Took a sip. Set the glass down untouched after that.When he almost decided to stand up and leave, the door opened.And there she was.Clara walked in like she owned the place. Her dress hugged her perfectly, dark and elegant. Her hair fell neatly on her shoulders. Heads turned. Damien forgot how to breathe for a second.She spotted him and walked over without a smile.“You’re late,” he said, standing up.“You’re early,” she replied, taking her seat.He sat back down, trying to rea







