Chapter 19 #2
Based on how Amelie accommodated my quirks, I had an inkling Poppy had given her the lowdown.
My cousin was protective, even though I was the older one.
Amelie went out of her way never to touch me unprovoked and generally respected the bubble that made me feel safe.
The one time she walked in on me while I was changing, she barely reacted to my scars.
“I’m sorry if it’s weird that she told me.”
I shook my head. “I’m glad you know.”
“I’m sorry they never caught the guy.”
I forced a nonchalant expression. “He left me for dead, and when I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital bed. I had no idea what had happened to me, only that I was in excruciating pain. It felt like I was dying over and over.”
“That’s terrible.”
“The recovery was unbearable, but my parents were only focused on finding out who did it or ‘fixing’ the problem. They said the scars were too ugly and wanted me to undergo plastic surgery, but I couldn’t do it.
I was exhausted from the required medical procedures as it was, and when they started talking about cosmetic procedures… ”
The dreary memories returned to me, and I quivered. My mother once said, “No one will marry a girl covered in scars. Just get the surgery, sweetheart.”
“I thought about ending it.”
“Rose!” Amelie gasped.
I smiled. “Don’t worry. It was a long time ago. I promise, that’s not me anymore.”
Her eyes narrowed, but not in anger. If I knew Amelie at all, she was mentally peeling back my words, searching for hints about whether I needed to be on suicide watch. She would follow me day and night if she thought I was at risk.
“Stop freaking out,” I insisted. “That’s not me anymore because Damon talked me out of it. I was at the hospital the day his mom overdosed. He had rushed her there, but she didn’t make it.”
“Is that how you met him, at the hospital?”
I shook my head. “I had seen him around at events our parents used to drag us to—weddings, fundraisers, that sort of thing. But he was older and hung out with a different crowd. We had never spoken, and he was just another person to me.”
“Until the day his mom died?” she asked.
I nodded. Growing up, Professor Maxwell was a recluse while Damon made random appearances at events within our social circle.
We never interacted. That changed on the worst day of our lives—the day his mother died, and the day I almost killed myself.
It was the first time we spoke, and I fell in love with him instantly. That was a decade ago.
I glanced at Amelie apprehensively. “That day, I had a really bad fight with my parents over the plastic surgery. The recovery was worse than what happened to me, and I was in constant pain. When I realized my parents would force me into more of the same, I lost it. I was just a little girl. I didn’t know what I was doing, I only knew that I wanted the pain to stop.
I went to the rooftop after visiting hours had ended.
I kept thinking, the pain will end the moment I jump. ”
“My god, Rose. What happened next?”
“Damon had just lost his mom. He went to the rooftop for a cigarette and saw me. He talked me out of it.”
“How?”
I shrugged. “By listening to me, by making me feel seen. He gave me…hope. He even told me to threaten my parents with emancipation if they didn’t back off on the plastic surgery, and he stayed with me for the rest of the afternoon.
He was going through his own stuff after losing his mom.
It turned out all I needed was for one person to listen to what I wanted.
It gave me the strength to keep going. He saved me. ”
That day, Damon didn’t cry over losing his mother. Instead, he wore a solemn look that resembled my physical pain. The pain of my flesh was written on his face, and it had haunted me since.
We were kids. Neither of us had any business suffering life’s cruelty at such an early age.
But there we were, born from tragedy and intertwined by a twisted fate.
The difference was that I embraced our connection, whereas he disregarded it.
Forever the philanthropist, he thought he was helping yet another troubled kid and never gave me a second thought.
Then our families turned into bitter rivals, and he kept his distance from me. The rest was history.
“I-I don’t know what to say, Rose.”
“It was a long time ago, before the Ambanis and Maxwells became mortal enemies.”
“I never realized you guys had such a deep history. Then how come he’s?—”
“Indifferent toward me?” I finished for her.
“I doubt Damon wants to rock the boat with his family because we spent one afternoon together a decade ago. That day meant everything to me. It changed my life. But to him, he was just helping another desperate kid with braces, pimples, and Raggedy Ann hair.”
She snorted, and I sighed.
I couldn’t control my feelings. I felt tethered to him, unable to break free from this bond, even though I knew it wouldn’t amount to much. As I grew older, I had hoped to grow out of it. Instead, I was consumed by my emotions.
I didn’t want to feel this way—this unrequited love—for the rest of my life. If I had one chance with him, I wouldn’t waste it. I would kiss him, feel him, ask him to hold me. Damon would never reciprocate my feelings, but I couldn’t imagine myself with anyone else.
The thought pushed me into panic mode.
“Excuse me for a second.”
“Are you okay?”
I nodded and walked past Amelie, needing a moment to regroup.
The drinks had left me feeling warm and fuzzy, and I stumbled a little.
I was drunker than I had realized. I tried to find an empty corner, but the main level was jam-packed.
I descended the staircase to the second floor and secured a quiet spot on the balcony instead.
I looked out at the dark water and thought back to Professor Maxwell’s words from a few weeks ago.
He had encouraged me to let go of things that didn’t serve me.
Oddly enough, his advice applied to my love life, too.
“If it doesn’t serve you, it ruins you. Don’t continue with finance if you’re bad at it.” Professor Maxwell had been encouraging me to fully embrace science at every meal we shared. That day was no different as he plated our lunches, assuring me the food was made with the best ingredients.
I had grinned in amusement. Professor Maxwell always sought the best—best students, best staff, best lab, and even the best ingredients in his food.
Most of all, he valued the best minds, so I was surprised he had skipped the symposium currently happening across campus.
For once, he had the green light to do precisely as he wished—cancel class and surround himself with like-minded intellectuals from his field.
For some reason, he declined and proceeded with the lecture.
Lately, he had become more invested in this class, and even on the days he had legitimate reasons to cancel, he was resolute in not doing so.
After class, we had lunch in the break room, and the conversation inadvertently shifted to my life goals.
He claimed the seat across from me and gazed at me expectantly.
I was seized by my usual anxiety and dropped my gaze to the ground.
The man interacted with the most brilliant minds in the world.
There were supposed to be two Nobel laureates at the symposium today.
I was far removed from the circles he was accustomed to and often wondered whether I was boring him.
“You seem disappointed,” he said.
I had followed his gaze and realized he was referring to the spread in front of us—avocado salad, chickpea wrap, and chia pudding.
“Not at all. It looks delicious.”
“As delicious as this?” With a slight grin, he reached under the booth and pulled out a bag. I had almost screamed when I saw the label on the bag—Magnolia Bakery. It was my favorite, but I doubt he knew that. It merely happened to be the most famous bakery in New York.
I had been using alternative sweeteners in my baking because sugar inflamed my scars, but God, I needed a dose of the real thing. I inhaled two of the cupcakes, thanking him profusely for the cheat day and asking him again if he was sure he didn’t want to attend the symposium.
“Stop asking me the same question. I’d rather discuss your term paper. Did you choose a topic?”
Chastened, I played with the cupcake wrapper. “Asymmetric synthesis and its importance in drug development. But I haven’t selected a technique yet for the lab portion.”
“Start with a deep dive into real-world drug case studies.”
“Like thalidomide?”
He nodded, then proceeded to give me advice, even though he had told the rest of the students not to bother him with their term paper.
I couldn’t help the smile on my face. Despite my trepidation, Professor Maxwell had somehow become a friend and a confidant.
Not that I would utter such bold statements in his presence.
No one dared to bestow him with such titles, and despite our lukewarm relationship, I was careful never to overstep the liberties he allowed me.
My mind had taken a detour, catching me off guard. I came to reexamine my feelings for Damon and ended up spending my time thinking about his twin instead. With a sigh, I turned just as the man in question reached me. My eyes widened.
Damon.
“Hi.” What was he doing here? Did he come searching for me? But Damon had never initiated an interaction with me. I was sure he could see the questions dancing in my eyes. “You’re here.”
“Were you expecting someone else?” he asked.
I shook my head. Whenever we ran into each other, Damon politely said hello and then immediately excused himself or avoided me for the rest of the party.
But tonight, his hand was resting on the railing, his posture was relaxed, and he seemed to be settling in for a long chat.
Nothing about his body language said he would cut the conversation short.
“You’ve snuck onto the only floor that’s off-limits. I guess I shouldn’t ask whether you were having a good time at the party—hiding so soon after arriving late.”
My mouth went dry when the moon revealed itself from behind the clouds, illuminating his face. Up close, I could make out his expressions. His pupils were dilated, and he was perusing my body. Unapologetic and unashamed.
My stomach clenched.
In all the years I had known him, he had never looked at me like that —with intensity and hunger. My nerves were frayed by his single glance, and I was suddenly buzzing for a different reason than the drinks.
I was so distracted that it took me several moments to process his comment. I frowned. “I didn’t arrive late. I arrived two hours ago to help set up the party. Then I went to the lower deck to talk to the captain about a safety check. He didn’t like that.”
He chuckled. “Of course you arrived early to set up and do a safety check.” He laughed again. The sound sent warm feelings down to the middle of my chest.
Was I dreaming?
I hadn’t expected the warm reception. Damon noticed I was missing, he had sought me out, and now, I had charmed him.
Should I confess my undying love?
No.
Too strong a reaction to a simple laugh.
“I thought you weren’t coming.”
“I wouldn’t miss it. Plus, I love boats.”
“Then pick your favorite room and stay the night. Each guestroom has a unique theme.”
“Are you staying the night, too?”
“That’s my suite. It’s unlocked if you want a tour.”
My heart started beating ferociously. Was that an invitation to his bed? Should I make a move?
I had never made a move on a man, but just ten minutes ago, I was terrified of dying alone because I couldn’t snap out of Damon’s love haze. And now, he was sending me signals. Strong signals.
Damon had mastered the skill of letting me down gently. For whatever reason, he was flirting with me tonight. The sharp thrill of daring to claim my hidden desire clawed at my chest. I needed to shoot my shot. It was now or never.
Without giving myself the chance to change my mind, I went onto my tiptoes.
With trembling hands, I grabbed the back of his neck and tugged his head down.
His gaze, which was nothing short of shocked, clashed with mine.
I thought he would push me away. Instead, he was motionless.
Encouraged, I brushed my mouth against his, giving him my very first kiss.
The world tilted for a moment. His mouth was softer than I had expected, a contrast to the rough edges of his jaw and the controlled calm in his eyes.
Electricity shot through me, a sudden heat that pooled in my chest and spilled to my fingertips.
Every nerve stood on alert, each heartbeat echoing against his quiet stillness.
The fleeting kiss left me breathless, and just like that, it was over.
My cheeks burned hot as I pulled back to assess his reaction. Stormy blue eyes watched me steadily. He was going to push me away, I just knew it, and I braced for his rejection.
Oh God. What had I done? If I hadn’t had three double-shot vodkas in my system or freaked out about dying alone, I would have never done something so stupid.
Feeling foolish about my impulsiveness, I started to drop my hands, but he stunned me by grabbing them. He moved them back to his neck.
My mouth dropped.
My head swam with alcohol, and I swayed, or perhaps it was because of the way he was looking at me. His gaze was lecherous, and totally unlike him, as one of his hands wrapped around my waist. I didn’t get much more of a warning before his lips swooped down to meet mine.
The world ceased to exist. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, and even my fingertips were pounding with the blood rushing everywhere in my body.
His lips lifted off mine for a moment, and I stared back at him, wide-eyed and utterly mesmerized, no coherent thoughts stirring in my mind.
Almost imperceptibly, he began his descent, giving me space.
We were so attuned; he knew of my invisible bubble and how difficult it was to be touched.
But he needn’t worry. This rule existed for everyone but him.
He paused mere millimeters from my mouth. When I didn’t protest, he closed the distance between us. Our lips met in the same earth-shattering manner, and he drew me closer, my chest pressing against his. I clung to his white dress shirt desperately, wondering whether I would float away if I let go.
For years, Damon had thwarted my feelings. Why was he suddenly interested in me? I didn’t understand the change of heart, but I couldn’t seek answers, not when he was kissing me like his life depended on it.