All Chapters of The Girl He Never Got Over: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Enya Answorth was a year younger than me and Damien, but we'd been in the same class.Her family had money, and as an only child, she grew up spoiled and somewhat arrogant.Her mom only had her. Same as mine.We lived in the same dorm building for years. No way I got this wrong.The comments kept pouring in.That med student said he was heading to the body freezer to check.[The profile pic flashed too fast. I need to see her in person.][I've got chills... If this is real, then the girl Damien ditched Sadie for is...][Ahhh! Jesus, protect me!]I stood alone at the center of the stage. Camera flashes burned my eyes.My parents looked wrecked. Whispers and pitying looks scraped over me, sharp and constant.I clenched my jaw and ran. The cab driver kept giving me weird looks as I rushed straight to the airport.Through the arrivals hall glass, I saw Damien had Enya pulled tight against him.She looked soft, slim—normal. Her face was buried in his chest, mostly hidden.Her

Soon, faint, broken breaths slipped out of the studio.Maybe it was the flickering candles, or the way her body moved, but something about the way Enya looked at Damien felt... off.He didn't notice.His voice came out rough, uneven, soaked in pleasure. "Babe... never thought I'd get to call you that. Even if I can't give you a title right now, I can give you more than before."Enya looked completely gone, cheeks flushed, voice soft and syrupy. "...Damien, I didn't know how to cherish someone before. Now I do."Her arms tightened around his neck. "But... ah... I might not be able to stay with you long, because of my illness—"Damien cut her off, catching her lips. His voice slipped out between uneven breaths. "Don't say that. I've got money. I'll make sure you're okay."I pressed back against the hallway wall, trying to outrun the dull ache in my chest with a flood of thoughts.She didn't smell like a body. She had a shadow. A solid presence. She breathed.She wanted to get be

I stared at Enya. Something about her face felt off. My scalp prickled. A chill slid down my spine.I didn't believe in ghosts. Dead stayed dead.Still, my legs shook.I forced myself steady, jaw tight. "Yeah. I figured it out."Her eyes darkened—I cut in fast. "You hid the donor forms under the divorce papers. You think I wouldn't notice?"She froze, thrown off. Then her face smoothed out, the edge fading.She relaxed, let out a breath.A lazy flick of her hand. "Yeah. I need a heart donor. Figured... whatever. You found out, so forget it."I let out a quiet breath. The live comments calmed too, relieved she hadn't caught on about the donor.I turned to leave.One step in, and—"Wait!"My whole body locked. I turned back, slow.Her eyes burned into me. "Nothing to ask? You came here to catch us—you had to guess something. I pushed you this far, and that's your reaction?"Her eyes narrowed. "...Feels like you're scared of me."I stayed quiet. Her face twisted again as

I played it normal and went back to my room, frowning as I dug through everything I remembered about Enya from college.I grabbed my phone and called the classmates who used to be close to her."Hey, long time. How've you been?"I kept it light, made some small talk, then slipped it in—"Random, but I was just thinking about Enya. How's she doing?"Most of them had nothing. Lost touch after she went abroad. No clue where she was now.My stomach dropped, lower and lower.I was about to give up when her old roommate spoke."I heard she married some rich guy overseas. Seven years older. They're really close. He knew about her heart condition and spent a ton on treatment. I don't have his number, but... I know he's the director of La Lumière."La Lumière. A pretty famous gallery.I hung up and searched it right away.Got lucky—I found his name and email.I clenched my jaw and went for it.[Hi, Mr. Laurent. I'm one of Enya's old college classmates. I haven't heard from her in a

The venue fell apart. One shock after another—my head couldn't keep up. No reason to stay.I turned and slipped into the crowd. Pushed through, fought my way out of the auction hall.Cool night air hit my face, clearing my head a little.My phone buzzed.I checked it. A reply from Adrien Laurent—Enya's husband.The email read—[Salut Ms. Somerset. Glad you still remember my wife. Sadly, she passed after her heart surgery failed. She was kind, and her last wish was to donate her body. She was an incredible painter. At my gallery, she had a lot of fans—everyone called her the beautiful painter. Some admirers even copied her work, her style, even the way she dressed and acted. We all loved her, didn't we?]By the time I hit that last line, my emotions were a mess.Enya used to be so proud back in school. Now... she was completely different.Still, something in me stirred.I couldn't make sense of it.Early the next morning, my phone lit up—99+ unread messages.Damien hitting "