Chapter Thirty-Two - The Man Who Lost Me

Aria’s POV

Damon stood before me, struggling to find the words he had apparently rehearsed throughout his journey to Ironcrest.

I watched him in silence.

Once, I would have rushed to fill that silence for him. I would have asked whether he was all right, whether something had happened on his journey, or whether he needed time to gather his thoughts.

I would have mistaken his discomfort for pain and his hesitation for proof that he still cared.

But I had learned that a person could look miserable and still be responsible for making everyone around him miserable.

So I waited. Finally, Damon cleared his throat.

“I never wanted things to end the way they did.”

I almost smiled. “How did you want them to end?”

He looked at me as though he hadn’t expected the question.

“I wanted us to be happy. Together, Aria.”

“Then why did you treat me as though I was nothing more than a convenient source of money?” I asked him.

His face tightened. “I never treated you that way.”

“No?” I tilted my head. “Then perhaps you can explain why you took money from me to settle a debt I knew nothing about. Or why you kept asking me to be patient whenever I questioned our future. Or why you hid a letter telling me my father was dead.”

The last words left my mouth more sharply than I intended.

For a moment, the receiving hall became so quiet that I could hear the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth.

Damon looked away.

There it was again. That familiar retreat whenever the truth became too uncomfortable to face.

“I was going to tell you about your father,” he said.

“When?” I snarled.

He opened his mouth while I waited.

“When, Damon?” I asked again, more angrier this time.

“I needed time to figure out how to tell you.” He replied.

I stared at him in disbelief.

“My father was dead. My family buried him. The man who raised me, who loved me, who spent his entire life protecting me, was gone. And you needed time to figure out how to tell me?”

“I knew how much he meant to you.”

“Then you should have understood that I deserved to know!” My voice echoed through the hall.

One of the guards shifted near the door, but Kael remained still beside me. He didn’t interrupt or attempt to answer for me.

He allowed the silence to settle after my outburst.

Damon rubbed a hand over his face. “I was afraid you would leave me.”

The admission came quietly. For a moment, I simply stared at him.

Then a bitter laugh escaped me.

“So you hid my father’s death because you were afraid I would leave you?”

“I thought if I could find the right moment….” He started like the coward that he was.

“There was no right moment!” My hands trembled, and I forced them to remain at my sides.

“There was no version of that news that would have been easy to hear, Damon. But it was my father. I had a right to mourn him. I had a right to attend his funeral. I had a right to stand beside my family while they said goodbye.”

My throat tightened. “Instead, I was living with you, believing there was still time to make things right with my father. I thought he was angry with me. I thought perhaps he needed space. I had no idea he was already in the ground.”

Damon’s expression crumpled. “Aria, I’m sorry.”

I looked at him for a long moment. I had imagined those words so many times.

In some of those imagined conversations, he fell to his knees and begged me to forgive him. In others, he admitted everything without making excuses. Sometimes, I pictured myself screaming until every ounce of hurt had left my body.

But now that the apology had finally come, it didn’t feel like victory.

“Why did you hide the letter?” I asked.

He swallowed. “Because I knew what it would mean.”

“And what was that?” I raised a brow.

“That you would go back.” He bowed his head in shame. “To Ironcrest. To your family. To him.”

His eyes flickered toward Kael.

I followed his gaze, then looked back at Damon. “So you knew that if I discovered the truth, I might return to the people I loved.”

“I thought you would leave me.” He raised bloodshot eyes at me.

“You keep saying that as though it explains everything.”

“I loved you, Aria.” He whispered.

The words struck me with an old familiarity.

Once, I would have clung to them. I would have believed that love, even imperfect love, could excuse the mistakes of the person offering it.

Now, all I felt was exhaustion.

“Did you?” I gave a dry laugh. “Then what did love mean to you, Damon?”

He looked confused.

I took a step toward him. “Did it mean taking my money without telling me the truth? Did it mean letting me believe we were building a future together while you avoided every conversation about making our relationship official? Did it mean allowing me to defend you when people warned me about you?”

He shook his head. “That’s not fair.”

The words came so quickly that I almost laughed.

Even now, with the truth laid bare between us, he still wanted to argue about fairness.

“What’s not fair, Damon?”

“You make it sound as though everything between us was a lie.” He raised his head up properly now.

“I didn’t say everything was a lie.” I looked at him, stunned by the way he had seized on my words.

For a moment, I could almost see the old pattern unfolding.

Damon would find one small opening in my anger and use it to pull me back into the familiar cycle of explanations, apologies, and promises. He would remind me of the good days, the laughter we had shared, the nights he had held me while I spoke about my dreams and perhaps some of those memories were genuine.

But they didn’t erase what he had done.

“Whatever I felt for you was real,” I said. “That doesn’t mean you treated me well.”

His face fell. “I made mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes, Aria.”

“Yes. But not everyone hides a death notice from the person they claim to love.” I tilted my head to the side.

He had no answer. For the first time, I felt no need to keep the conversation moving. I didn’t need him to understand every word I said. I didn’t need him to admit that I was right.

I had spent too long trying to make him see things he had no interest in seeing and I was done carrying that responsibility.

************

Damon lowered his head.

“I know I hurt you.”

I folded my arms. “Then why did you come here?”

He looked up. “I wanted to explain myself.”

“You’ve explained yourself. You were afraid I would leave. You were afraid I would return to Ironcrest. You were afraid of losing the life you had with me.”

His lips parted, but I continued before he could interrupt.

“Every reason you’ve given me has been about what you stood to lose. Not what I lost.”

He stared at me. I thought of the money I had given him, the future I had imagined, and the countless opportunities I had sacrificed because I believed we were working toward something meaningful.

I thought of my father, who had died while I was away and I thought of the letter I had discovered hidden among Damon’s belongings.

Those were the things I had lost, not simply a relationship, but time, trust, and the chance to say goodbye.

“I lost my father without even knowing he was gone,” I said quietly. “I lost the chance to hear his voice one last time. I lost the chance to tell him I was sorry for leaving the way I did. And when I finally discovered the truth, I had to live with the knowledge that the man I trusted had deliberately kept it from me.”

My voice trembled, but I refused to look away. “You keep telling me you were afraid of losing me. Did you ever stop to consider what you were taking from me?”

Damon’s eyes glistened. “I’m sorry.”

I believed he was sorry now. I wasn’t certain he understood why and I had finally learned that those were two very different things.

“I can’t change what happened,” he whispered. “But I wish I could.”

For a moment, we stood facing each other, separated by years of decisions neither of us could undo.

Then Damon glanced at Kael again.

His expression changed. “You really married him.”

I almost asked whether he had forgotten that I had already answered that question.

Instead, I said, “Yes.”

“Do you love him?” He asked.

Kael remained silent beside me.

I knew Damon was watching me closely, searching for hesitation. Perhaps he believed that if I admitted I wasn’t certain, he could use that uncertainty to reopen a door I had closed.

I didn’t give him the opportunity.

“My marriage is none of your business.” I said with finality.

He flinched. “We were together for years, Aria. I think I deserve to know whether you ever truly loved me.”

I stared at him. “You want to talk about what you deserve? You had my love, Damon. You had my trust. You had opportunities to be honest with me, and you chose not to be. You don’t get to stand in my home and demand that I explain my marriage to you as though you still have a claim over my life.”

His jaw tightened. “I’m not demanding anything.”

“Then stop asking questions you have no right to ask.”

Kael shifted slightly beside me, but he still didn’t intervene.

I was grateful for that. This conversation was mine.

I had spent too much of my life allowing other people to decide what was best for me. I wasn’t going to let either man turn this moment into a contest over who had the greater claim to my future.

Damon looked down. “I suppose you hate me now.”

I considered the question. Did I hate him?

Once, I might have said yes without hesitation. There had been nights when the thought of him had filled me with so much anger that I could barely sleep.

But hatred required something from me.

It demanded that I continue carrying him inside my mind, that I keep returning to the moments when he had hurt me, searching for answers I would never receive.

I didn’t want to give him that much of my life anymore.

“I don’t want to spend my life hating you,” I said. “But I don’t want you in it, either.”

His face went pale. “Aria…”

“I’m not finished.” I shushed him.

“I can’t change the fact that I loved you. I can’t pretend the good moments never happened, and I won’t lie to myself by saying that every feeling I had was false.”

I took a breath. “But I won’t let those memories convince me to accept what you did. Whatever we once had is over, Damon. You don’t get to return here and expect me to become the woman who left Ironcrest with you.”

His eyes dropped to the insignia at my shoulder.

“The Luna,” he murmured.

I straightened. “Yes. The Luna.”

The words felt different now.

They weren’t merely a title bestowed upon me during a ceremony. They represented a responsibility I had once abandoned and a place I had chosen to reclaim.

I had made mistakes. I had hurt people.

I had misunderstood what freedom meant and allowed my desire for love to blind me to the value of everything I already possessed but I had returned.

I had faced my father’s memory, accepted my responsibilities, and begun rebuilding the parts of myself I had neglected.

I was no longer defined by the worst decision I had ever made and I wouldn’t allow Damon to define me by it, either.

**********

Damon stood in silence for a long time.

Then he drew a shaky breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me today.”

I rolled my eyes,

His eyes lifted to mine. “I just wanted you to know that I never stopped thinking about you.”

I felt a pang of sadness, though I couldn’t tell whether it was for him or for the girl I had once been.

“I can’t tell you what you felt, Damon,” I said. “But thinking about me isn’t the same as loving me well.”

He looked away. I had no desire to wound him further.

There was nothing satisfying about watching someone who had once mattered to me struggle with the consequences of his own choices.

But I couldn’t comfort him, either. Not at the expense of my own healing.

“I think you should leave,” I said.

His head snapped up. “You’re sending me away? After everything we’ve been through?”

I felt my patience thinning. “Especially after everything we’ve been through.”

He stared at me as though he couldn’t reconcile the woman standing before him with the one he remembered.

Perhaps he expected me to hesitate, or he thought the years we had spent together would make it impossible for me to close the door completely.

But I had already done the hardest part.

I had faced him, I had spoken the truth, and I had survived hearing his excuses without allowing them to change my mind.

Kael finally spoke. “You heard the Luna. Your audience is over.”

Damon’s gaze hardened. For a brief moment, I saw the resentment he had tried to hide throughout our conversation.

“Of course,” he said bitterly. “The Alpha has spoken.”

Kael’s expression remained cold. “Do not mistake her willingness to hear you for permission to disrespect her.”

Damon looked between us. Then, to my surprise, he lowered his head.

“I won’t.”

He turned toward the doors. Each step he took seemed to carry him farther from the life we had once imagined together.

When he reached the entrance, he stopped.

I knew he was going to look back before he did.

“Aria?” He called out softly. “If I could go back and do things differently, I would.”

For a moment, I let myself consider the words.

Perhaps he meant them and, in some distant version of his life, he wished he had been a better man.

But regret could not return the time I had lost. It couldn’t restore the trust I had given him or bring my father back.

I offered Damon a small, tired nod.

“I hope you become someone who doesn’t make those choices again.”

His expression faltered, then he left and the doors closed behind him.

And just like that, the past was no longer standing in front of me.

I remained where I was, staring at the closed doors.

I had expected to feel victorious. Instead, I felt tired.

Not the kind of exhaustion that came from a long day of work or hours spent training. It was the weariness of finally putting down something I had carried for too long.

Kael didn’t speak immediately.

He stood beside me, giving me the space to understand what I was feeling without trying to tell me what I should feel.

Eventually, I turned toward him.

“Do you think I was too harsh?”

His eyebrows drew together. “No.”

“You didn’t even consider it.” I frowned.

“Because I don’t need to.”

I let out a small breath. “He looked so miserable.”

“He has reason to regret his choices.” Kael rubbed my shoulders softly.

“That doesn’t mean he deserves to suffer forever.” I bit my lower lip.

“No,” Kael agreed. “It doesn’t.”

His answer surprised me. He wasn’t urging me to hate Damon. He wasn’t asking me to forget the past or insisting that my pain should make me cruel.

He was simply allowing Damon to bear the consequences of his own actions and perhaps that was what I needed to learn, too.

“I don’t hate him,” I admitted.

Kael studied my face. “Is that a problem?”

“No. I don’t think so.” I glanced at the doors again. “I thought seeing him would make me angry enough to finally forget everything I felt for him. But it didn’t happen that way.”

“Feelings don’t disappear simply because someone has hurt you.” He explained.

I looked at him.

He held my gaze. “You can remember what was good without pretending what was bad never happened. You can wish someone well without giving them another chance to hurt you.”

My throat tightened. “How do you know that?”

A faint sadness crossed his face.“Because I spent a long time being angry with you.”

I lowered my eyes. “I know.”

“But I eventually had to decide whether I wanted to keep living inside that anger or find a way to move forward.” He paused.

“That doesn’t mean I stopped remembering what happened. It means I stopped allowing it to decide everything that came afterward.”

I looked up at him. For a moment, I saw the years of hurt he had carried beneath his responsibilities as Alpha. The loneliness he had endured after my departure. The disappointment he had never fully spoken about.

And I understood that he wasn’t offering me a lesson from a place of superiority.

He was sharing something he had learned the hard way.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

His expression softened. “I know.”

“I know I’ve said it before, but I really am sorry for leaving the way I did. For making you carry everything alone.”

Kael was silent for a moment. Then he reached for my hand.

This time, I moved toward him before he could hesitate.

His fingers closed around mine.

“I won’t pretend it didn’t hurt,” he said. “But I don’t want us to spend the rest of our lives punishing each other for the people we were before.”

My eyes stung. “Neither do I.”

He brushed his thumb over my knuckles. “Then we keep going.”

I leaned against him, resting my forehead briefly against his shoulder.

He didn’t pull me closer or turn the moment into something I wasn’t ready for. He simply stood beside me, allowing me to decide how much comfort I wanted.

I wrapped my arms around his waist.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then I drew back enough to look at him.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” His brows furrowed.

“For letting me handle that myself.” I smiled.

His gaze softened. “You didn’t need me to speak for you.”

“No,” I agreed. “But I needed to know you understood that.”

I studied his face, searching for the impatience or doubt I had once expected to find in every man who claimed to care about me.

Instead, I found a quiet steadiness.

It wasn’t a promise that he would never hurt me. No honest person could make such a promise.

It was something better.

The willingness to keep learning how to stand beside me without trying to take my choices away.

I slipped my hand into his.

“Come on,” I said. “I think I’ve had enough of the receiving hall for one day.”

A faint smile touched his lips. “That makes two of us.”

We walked toward the doors together.

Outside, Ironcrest carried on with its ordinary life. Warriors crossed the courtyard, servants hurried between buildings, and the sounds of the pack filled the afternoon air.

Nothing about the world had changed because Damon had returned.

My father was still gone. The years I had lost could not be recovered and the mistakes I had made would remain part of my story.

But I no longer felt as though I had to keep looking over my shoulder to prove that I had learned from them.

I had faced the man I once believed I couldn’t live without.

I had listened to his explanations and I had chosen not to return to him.

That choice belonged to me.

As Kael and I crossed the courtyard, I realized that moving forward didn’t require me to erase my past or pretend it hadn’t mattered.

It only required me to stop letting it choose my future.

For the first time, I felt ready to do exactly that.