Chapter 4 : The Groom I Never Wanted

Claire:

I sat on the edge of the bed in my apartment, staring down at the white dress hanging on the closet door, feeling a heavy tightness in my stomach because after spending five long years working to rebuild my life, Damon Black was stepping right back into it to tear down my peace.

“Mommy, why do you look so sad?” Emma asked, walking into the bedroom while holding her small stuffed bear in her arms, looking up at me with her wide eyes. “Are you getting dressed up for a party today?”

“No, sweetie, I’m getting married today,” I said, putting a smile on my face as I reached out to pull her small body into a hug, smoothing her hair down with my hand.

“Are you marrying a prince like in my storybooks?” she asked, sitting down on my lap and wrapping her arms around my neck, looking closely at my face. “Do you love him, Mommy?”

I swallowed hard, looking at her small face that carried so many of Damon’s features, and I felt my voice tremble slightly as I tried to figure out what to say to my five-year-old daughter. “Sometimes, Emma, people can love someone very much in their hearts, but they still can’t forgive them for the painful things that happened in the past.”

“Is he going to live in our house now?” she asked, resting her chin on my shoulder while she played with the strap of my dress.

“We are going to live in his big house, Emma,” I replied, kissing her cheek before gently setting her down on the carpet. “Now go put on your shoes because your aunt Sarah is going to stay with you while I go finish the paperwork at city hall.”

An hour later, I stood in the small private room at city hall, smoothing the front of my simple dress with my hands as I caught my reflection in the narrow mirror by the door. The woman looking back at me barely resembled the girl Damon had known five years ago. The dark contact lenses covered the light brown eyes he used to say he could pick out in a crowded arena, and the sharp black waves brushing my shoulders were nothing like the long, sun-streaked hair I’d once tied back in a messy bun after late study sessions. Five years of surviving on my own, of skipping meals I couldn’t afford and running after a toddler from sunrise to midnight, had carved the softness out of my face entirely. I barely recognized myself some mornings. I didn’t expect Damon to recognize me at all.

As the door opened, Damon walked inside accompanied by his father and a lawyer carrying a stack of papers.

He had grown broader, taller, and much more imposing over the last five years, with his short dark hair neat and his face set in a firm line that made him look completely cold, so different from the energetic college hockey player who used to laugh with me after late practice sessions.

He stopped moving the second he stepped through the door, his dark eyes locking onto my face, and for three long seconds, my heart stopped beating because I was completely sure he would recognize me on the spot and say my name out loud.

He kept staring, but his expression stayed blank, and then he simply took a seat at the long table, pulling a pen out of his jacket as if I were nothing more than a stranger he was meeting for a business meeting.

A sharp sting went through my chest, hurting far more than I wanted to admit to myself, because even after all these years, part of me had foolishly hoped that he would remember the girl he had abandoned on that championship night.

The ceremony took less than ten minutes, with the judge reading through the quick legal statements while Damon stood next to me, barely looking in my direction and only speaking when he had to say his official agreement to sign the contract.

When the judge walked out to file the signed papers, Damon turned around, facing me directly for the first time since he walked into the room, keeping his hands jammed deep inside his pockets.

“We need to get a few things clear right now, Claire,” Damon said, his voice flat and direct, without any warmth or emotion as he looked down at me. “My father arranged this whole thing for the company, but as far as I’m concerned, this marriage is just a piece of paper.”

“I don’t expect anything else from you, Damon,” I said, holding my chin up while keeping my voice steady so he wouldn’t see how much his presence was affecting me.

“Good, because I don’t want any interference in my personal life, and I don’t want any public drama for my career,” he continued, taking a step closer while looking directly into my eyes. “When we’re in public, we act polite so our families get what they want, but behind closed doors, we stay out of each other’s way and live as complete strangers.”

“That suits me just fine,” I replied, crossing my arms over my chest and holding his gaze without backing away. “I have no desire to pretend we have a real relationship when we are alone, so you don’t have to worry about me bothering you.”

“Then we have an agreement,” he said, turning around and walking toward the door, holding it open for me as we prepared to walk out to the waiting cars outside.

As we stepped onto the sidewalk together, Damon suddenly stopped near the passenger door, turning his head to look down at me with a slight frown on his forehead, his eyes searching my face carefully.

“I don’t know why, but I feel like I’ve met you before,” Damon said quietly, staring at me as if he were trying to solve a puzzle.

I forced a tight, cold smile on my face, pulling my coat closely around myself as I looked right back at him without blinking.

“You haven’t.”