VIVIAN The house was quiet in that soft, late-afternoon way it gets when the sun is slipping toward the horizon, turning everything a warm honey-gold. Damian was sitting on the couch, his laptop open in front of him, fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose the way he always did when a headache was threatening him. His medication sat beside him on the table, untouched. His shoulders were tense, and I could tell he was deep in thought.I hovered for a moment near the doorway, unsure if I should disturb him. For the past few days, every time he sighed or pressed his temples or sat too still, guilt stabbed me in the chest. I wanted to help him—comfort him, support him—but every tender impulse tangled with dread and fear and shame.Still, I forced myself to step forward.“Damian?” My voice came out softer than I expected.He lifted his head, and when his eyes met mine… all the noise in my chest quieted. He looked tired, yes, but there was something else—relief. As if seeing me instantl
Last Updated : 2025-12-01 Read more