CHAPTER 10

Unspoken Words

Damian’s POV

Eliot didn't say anything.

He just stood across the garage floor, half in the shadow and half in the yellow light that was flashing. He kept his eyes on me the whole time, arms crossed and chest tight. Even though there was no sound between us, my whole body shook like a string being hit.

The blackmailers were gone.

But the person left behind was the only one who could break me apart without raising his voice. He stood there watching and waiting for me to say something.

And I didn’t know what to say.

"Are you going to say something?" His voice was soft, calm as they broke the silence. But I knew that kind of calm. It wasn't out of peace but pressure.

“How did you get here? I didn’t ask you to follow me,” I muttered.

He took a step forward and said, "You didn't have to. Every look you've given me this week has been suspicious. I knew something wasn't right.”

I looked down at the floor.

"You seemed not to trust me," he said.

I jerked. "It's not about trust."

"Then what is it?"

I looked up sharply. “It’s about control. About everything spiraling, Eliot. You think I didn’t want to tell you? I couldn’t breathe. I’m being threatened, and all I could think about was how to keep things from going wrong for both of us.”

He moved closer, slowly as if he were getting close to something fragile.

“You still should’ve told me,” he said, his voice low. “Ever since you kissed me on that rooftop. You don’t get to act like this only concern you now.”

My stomach turned.

“I know,” I said, my voice barely audible

.

“You know,” he repeated. “But you still came here alone.”

"I didn't want you to be in danger,” I confessed.

“I’m already in danger, Damian. That photo has me in it too.”

What he said hurt me more than anything the blackmailer had said.

“I’ve spent my whole life acting like I'm untouchable,” I said quietly. “But I’m not. You know I’m not.”

“You don’t have to pretend with me,” he said.

“Then why does it still feel like I’m drowning?” I questioned even though I knew he doesn't have the answer.

He reached out for me. But I stepped back. My hands were shaking.

“I can’t think straight,” I whispered. “I’m scared, Eliot. Scared of what this will cost. Of what I’ll lose. You don’t know what it’s like to have everything—your family, your name, your place in the world—rest on how people see you.”

“I know what it’s like to hide,” he said. “I’ve done it longer than you think.”

I looked at him.

"Do you think I came into your life without any scars?" he kept talking. " I just don’t let them control me anymore.”

His voice got a little weak. “But if I could turn back time, I would kiss you on that roof.”

My chest got tight.

I didn’t know what I was more afraid of—losing my legacy or losing him.

He slowly closed the gap between us. His hand touched mine.

I didn’t move. In fact I don't want to.

He put his hand on my arm. And then my jaw. It felt like my heart was trying to get out as it thudded against my ribs.

"Tell me to stop," he said in a low voice, right next to my face.

I did not.

Then he kissed me.

It wasn't like the first time.

This wasn’t about stolen seconds or curiosity kiss. This kiss was deep. Honest. Messy in all the right ways. He had a warm mouth and steady hands, and I kissed him so hard I thought I would fall over.

Or maybe I did.

I got my fingers caught in his jacket. He grabbed my waist. The fear didn't go away, but it got less intense for a short time. I almost forgot about the threat, the picture, and the risk. I almost thought we were safe here.

I leaned in closer and let his touch take away the stress of the last few days.

Then—

Footsteps. Quick and clear. Sounding up the garage ramp.

I tensed up. Eliot also felt it. He stepped back a little and breathed hard.

We looked at each other. Then turn toward the sound.

Someone was approaching.

I quickly moved away. Made my hair smooth and fixed my face.

Eliot put his jacket back in place. Just as he opened his mouth to say something—

Then the person showed up.

Lila.

Carrying a paper bag from the deli down the street. Her heels clicked on the pavement as she walked. She was wearing a soft blue coat. At first, she wasn't looking at us. She was just walking, her mind somewhere else.

Then she saw us.

She stopped on her pace. The bag in her hand loosened a little. She looked at Eliot and then back at me.

I could still feel the heat on my skin and almost taste the kiss that was still on my lips.

Eliot shifted beside me. Thankfully we had stopped touching each other.

But something hung between us like smoke.

Lila didn't talk. But the way she looked said it all. Not really shocked. But confused and not totally blind either.

Her eyes got a little smaller as if she was trying to notice. Process. Or read everything

I took a deep breath and called out "Hey."

She slowly blinked, as if she were just waking up.

"Hey," she answered, her voice too even.

She moved towards us. Her bag made a soft rustling sound. The air between us went tight and still.

Eliot cleared his throat. "We were just—"

“I know,” she said, cutting him off.

Her voice was soft. But her eyes? She looked at me the whole time.

She tilted her head a little, which was something she always did when she was putting things together.

I could feel the truth coming together behind them.

She knew.