جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 30

We were supposed to be on a plane to Bali. The tickets were booked. The hotel was paid. My suitcase was packed with 3 swimsuits and zero work clothes. For the first time since the proposal, I thought maybe we’d actually get 7 days. Just us. Damian was in the shower when Mia called. I answered because his phone was buzzing on the counter and it wouldn’t stop. “Damian Cole’s phone.” “Ali? It’s Mia.” Her voice was tight. “Tokyo is imploding. The board moved the emergency meeting to 9AM. Tomorrow.” I looked at the time. 8PM here. 1PM Tokyo. “That’s 2AM our time,” I said. “I know. I’m sorry. He has to be on the call.” Damian walked out, towel around his waist, water still on his shoulders. “Who was that?” “Mia. Tokyo.” He closed his eyes. “Don’t say it.” “They moved the meeting. 2AM.” He didn’t yell. He didn’t curse. He just sat on the bed and ran a hand through his wet hair. “We can do it from the hotel,” he said quietly. “Bali has wifi. I’ll take the call, then we go t

I lasted 3 days in Cole Tower before I needed air. Real air. Not filtered penthouse air. So I went to the office. Damian said no. “Let me drive you.” “I’m a grown woman. I can take a car.” “Fine. But my driver.” His driver dropped me at Cole Enterprises at 10AM. The building was 80 floors of “don’t talk to me.” The receptionist looked at me. “Do you have an appointment?” “I’m here to see Damian Cole.” “Name?” “Ali. His wife.” Her pen dropped. “One second.” 30 seconds later, Mia was running down the hall. “Ali! You didn’t say you were coming!” “I was spontaneous.” “Damian’s in a meeting. But come to my office.” I was halfway there when I heard it. “Excuse me. Who is that?” Sophia. Of course. She was in a red dress, heels, and a smile that could cut glass. Ex-girlfriend. Ex-fiancée. Current problem. “Ali,” Mia warned. Too late. Sophia walked straight to me. “Oh. You.” “Hi Sophia.” “I heard you moved in.” She looked me up and down. Jeans. Sneakers. Library tot

The warehouse on 5th was a mess. Concrete floors. Broken windows. Dust everywhere. I stood in the middle of it with a clipboard and zero dollars. “It’s perfect,” I lied to the 3 volunteers who showed up. “It’s big,” said Marco, the contractor. “And free. That’s good.” We spent the day sweeping. By 6PM, my back hurt and we had one clean corner. My phone buzzed. Email. Subject: Donation Received. From: AnonymousDonor@cogroup.com Amount: $250,000 Note: For the Cole Community Library. Build it. I stared at it. “Guys,” I said. “We just got $250k.” Marco whistled. “Anonymous?” “Yeah.” “That’s either a saint or a billionaire with guilt.” I didn’t say anything. But I knew. --- I went home and waited. Damian was in the kitchen when I walked in. Making pasta. Burning pasta. “Hey,” he said, not looking up. “How was the warehouse?” “Dusty.” “And?” “And we got a donation. $250,000. Anonymous.” His hand paused over the pot. Just for a second. “Wow,” he said. “That’s grea

I woke up happy. That was the first problem. Sunlight. Damian’s arm around me. The word "love" still ringing in my ears from last night. Blue walls. Saturdays. No contract. For 10 minutes, it was perfect. Then his phone buzzed. He grabbed it before I could. “Yeah?” His voice was sharp. “Now? Okay. I’ll be there in 20.” He hung up. “Who was it?” I asked, still half asleep. “Mia. Board emergency.” “On a Sunday?” “Apparently.” He was already out of bed. Suit. No shower. No coffee. No "good morning." “Damian?” “I have to go.” He kissed my forehead. Fast. “We’ll talk later.” And he left. --- He didn’t text. He didn’t call. By 3PM, I was at the warehouse alone. Painting. Blue. Marco came in. “Where’s your husband?” “Board meeting.” “On Sunday?” “Apparently.” My phone buzzed. Damian: *In meetings all day. Don’t wait up.* That was it. I stared at the text. Then I painted harder. --- He came home at 11PM. I was on the couch. Book in my lap. Not reading. He lo

“We’re not doing big,” I said. Damian was scrolling through venues on his iPad. “Define big.” “Not 500 people. Not a ballroom. Not this.” I pointed at the $200k package on the screen. He frowned. “But I want to give you—” “A wedding,” I finished. “Not a press conference.” He closed the iPad. “Okay. Small.” “Small,” I agreed. “How small?” “Like... library small.” He stared at me. “You want to get married in the warehouse?” “I want to get married where we built something. Together.” He was quiet for a second. Then he smiled. “Library small it is.” --- Day 1 of planning was chaos. Mia: “You need a planner.” Me: “No.” Damian: “You need a budget.” Me: “No.” Damian: “You need a dress.” Me: “...Maybe.” We compromised. No planner. Yes budget. Maybe dress. The guest list was 12 people. Marco. Mia. Two volunteers. Damian’s sister who lived in Seattle. My mom. “No board members,” I said. “Especially not Sophia,” Damian added. He wrote it on the wall in pencil next to