Chapter 008: The Cost Of Distance
678 Words
The villa felt different that morning.
Heavier. Like the walls themselves were listening.
I woke up alone.
Damian was gone.
For a brief moment, I felt relieved. Then the unease crept in. His absence unsettled me more than his presence ever had. I dressed quietly and went downstairs, only to find the house unusually busy. Staff moved quickly. Whispers floated through the air.
Something was happening.
I was pouring myself water when his grandmother appeared beside me.
“You look pale, child,” she said gently. “Did you sleep at all?”
“I did,” I lied.
She studied me for a moment, then sighed. “Marriage is not about distance,” she said. “Whatever you and Damian are doing, it will not last like this.”
My chest tightened. Before I could respond, Damian walked in.
He looked… different.
His jaw was tight, his sleeves rolled up, his eyes sharp with something dangerously close to anger. He didn’t look at me at first. Not until his grandmother spoke.
“Sit,” she ordered him. “Both of you.”
We obeyed.
“I raised you better than this,” she said, her gaze fixed on Damian. “You asked for my trust. You brought this girl into my home as your wife. And now I see walls between you.”
Damian clenched his jaw. “This is none of your concern.”
Her cane tapped the floor sharply. “Everything concerning my grandson is my concern.”
Then she turned to me. “Tell me. Are you unhappy?”
The room went silent.
Damian finally looked at me.
I felt his eyes on my face, searching, warning.
I chose honesty.
“I am confused,” I said carefully. “And confusion hurts just as much as unhappiness.”
His grandmother nodded slowly. “I see.”
She stood. “Damian, come to the study. Alone.”
They left.
I sat there, my hands trembling. I didn’t know what she would say to him. I didn’t know what he would do afterward. And that scared me more than anything.
An hour passed.
Then another.
When Damian finally returned, his expression was unreadable.
“We’re attending a charity dinner tonight,” he said flatly. “You’ll come with me.”
I blinked. “Tonight?”
“Yes,” he said. “Dress appropriately.”
It wasn’t a request.
That evening, the hall was filled with powerful people. Cameras flashed. Eyes followed us everywhere.
Damian placed his hand on my lower back. Possessive. Public.
I stiffened but didn’t pull away.
Then I saw her.
Celeste.
She stood across the room in a red dress, watching us with a knowing smile.
Damian’s hand tightened.
She approached slowly. “So this is the wife,” she said softly, looking at me. “You’re… interesting.”
I smiled politely. “Thank you.”
Her eyes flicked to Damian. “You look tense.”
“I’m fine,” he replied coldly.
She leaned closer to him. Too close. “Are you sure? You’ve always hated being controlled.”
Something snapped inside me.
I stepped forward slightly. “Excuse me,” I said calmly. “We were just about to greet the host.”
Damian looked at me in surprise.
Celeste laughed lightly. “Protective. How sweet.”
As she walked away, Damian didn’t move.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said quietly.
“Yes,” I replied. “I did.”
We stood there, the noise of the room fading.
For the first time, I wasn’t afraid of him.
And for the first time, Damian Blackwood looked unsettled.
That night, back at the villa, he stopped me at the stairs.
“You embarrassed her,” he said.
“No,” I replied. “I reminded her who your wife is.”
Silence.
Then, unexpectedly, he said, “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
I met his gaze. “So are you.”
And in that moment, I knew something had changed.
Neither of us was in control anymore.
- Writer
