Chapter Nine

by Roxanne Rene

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Rowan stood in Cross Innovations’ sleek, modern kitchen, her heart pounding as she watched Damien sip his coffee with casual confidence. He looked effortlessly dashing, his sharp features illuminated by the morning light pouring through the expansive windows.

For five long years, she had convinced herself that leaving him had been the right decision. Once a young, insecure woman shaped by a relentless barrage of negativity from her family, she had grown up believing she was unworthy. The echoes of those harsh words still haunted her, as if they had been etched into her soul.

“You’re just a fleeting distraction to a man destined for more incredible things.”

“If you don’t leave soon, all that’ll be left is shards of your heart for the next man.”

“Damien is rich, powerful, and far too perfect for someone like you.”

And the worst part?

She had believed every word.

With a heavy heart, she had turned her back on the love of her life, walking away as if it meant something when, in reality, it had shattered her completely.

Now, she stood, facing the man who still made her heart race. “Rowan,” he said, his voice smooth and commanding as he set his coffee mug down with deliberate ease. “What happened with us? Tell me the truth.”

Rowan’s throat constricted as she wrestled with the storm of emotions within her.

The intensity of Damien’s gaze sent shivers down her spine. He tilted his head as if he could see right through her, those sharp, intelligent brown eyes probing for the hidden depths of her soul. “Why did you leave?”

The question hung heavily in the air, pressing down on her like a weight she had carried for far too long. Rowan hesitated, her mind racing with the memories of cold, painful nights spent alone. “I already told you—”

“No, the real reason.” His voice was calm, but there was an edge beneath it, a fierce determination—a plea for her honesty.

Rowan’s stomach twisted in response. They both deserved the truth, yet articulating it felt like carving her heart open.

Exhaling slowly, she found her voice. “My stepfather told me I wasn’t good enough for you.”

Suddenly, Damien’s whole body went still, like a predator sensing danger.

Taking a deep breath, Rowan continued, “And… my stepsister spent that entire summer convincing me you’d eventually move on to someone like her.”

Damien’s jaw clenched, his expression becoming a mask of restrained fury.

Rowan let out a bitter laugh, loneliness wrapping around her like a heavy shroud. “And the worst part? I believed them.”

The tension in the room crackled like electricity. Damien’s hands curled into fists on the counter, his knuckles turning white.

“They got into your head,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, his frustration palpable. The audience can feel his pain and understand his reaction.

Rowan nodded, embarrassment shadowing her features. “I spent every day waiting for you to wake up and realize you were settling for me. So, I thought I would leave first.”

Damien drew in a slow, measured breath, the only sign that he was barely keeping his composure intact. His struggle is evident, making the audience empathize with his situation.

Then came his words, heavy with unspoken emotion. “Did you ever even consider asking me how I felt?”

Rowan’s throat tightened, a lump forming as she replied, “I was scared, Damien.”

His expression darkened even more. “Of me?”

She shook her head, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. “Of losing you.”

Silence blanketed the room, thick and suffocating.

Damien finally released a quiet, humorless chuckle that sent a chill up her spine.

“And here I thought I lost you that summer,” he murmured.

Her breath caught in her throat, the weight of his realization crashing over her like a tidal wave.

Damien leaned in with a low, raw intensity that took her breath away, his presence overwhelming. “Rowan, do you think I would’ve chosen her over you?”

His words warmed her, piercing through the wall she had built around her heart.

Rowan couldn’t look away, yet she found herself retreating into uncertainty. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

Damien’s heavy exhale was filled with disbelief. “Your stepsister was a persistent little parasite. But she was never a real threat.”

Rowan blinked in confusion. “Wait. You… knew?”

Damien raised a challenging eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Of course, I knew. She wasn’t exactly subtle about her intentions.”

Her stomach flipped in disbelief. “And you never said anything?”

“Rowan, do you think I’d give your jealous, manipulative stepsister the satisfaction of knowing she succeeded in getting to me?”

Shock coursed through her veins as she processed his words.

He leaned closer, voice soft yet firm, each word steeped in longing. “I wanted you. Only you.”

Rowan’s heart thundered in her chest, the realization hitting her with the force of a freight train.

He had been hers all along.

And in a moment of weakness and doubt, she had allowed them to take that from her. The weight of regret pressed down on her, heavy and suffocating, as she realized the magnitude of her mistake.

“Damien, I—” she began, but the door swung open violently before she could finish.

“OH, HELL NO.”

Rowan jumped, heart racing, as Ivan burst into the kitchen, wide-eyed and gaping like a fish caught in a net, clearly eavesdropping.

Behind him stood Louis, the flustered chef, awkwardly pressed against the doorway as if he wished to melt into the wall and vanish.

And just to make matters even more complicated, Nessa peeked around Ivan with an intrigued look.

“…Did you guys know there are cupcakes in the break room?” she chimed in, cheerful and naive.

Rowan buried her face in her hands, feeling the rush of embarrassment wash over her like a crimson tide.

Damien smirked, reveling in the moment—for the first time all morning, he wasn’t the one falling apart.

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Return to Chapter 8 <— —> Continue to the Final Chapter