Chapter Six: Another Not So Simple Tuesday

I’ve always believed I had my life under control. Nothing spirals unless I let it.

I’m not rich, but I have a stable job—enough to feed my cravings and fund my Target shopping sprees. That counts for something.

But, like every tragic heroine in a drama, I realize now—control was only ever an illusion.

Eric Thompson walked out of my life with a painful exit. Damien Carter waltzed in like he owned the soundtrack to my downfall. And somehow, he’s the one pulling all the strings.

I came to this conclusion while watching Damien smiling at my near-death experience. As if he had planned everything down to the second, he stood up, nodding like a perfect presidential candidate—except he was a liar and a con man.

“I’ll be leaving now,” he said, flashing an annoyingly perfect smile.

My mother, who had apparently forgotten that I almost died choking because of them, returned his smile with her best mother-in-law-to-be expression.

“You should. It’s getting late already,” she agreed sweetly. “We’ll talk more about the blind date.”

I didn’t wait around for the full Damien-is-the-perfect-father-for-your-unborn-children lecture before making my escape.

The first day, I didn’t notice maybe because I thought Damien is guilty about the dinner. Which from what I know about him, he can never be.

The second day, I felt a strange sense of peace—no smug interruptions, no sarcastic remarks, no Damien Carter orbiting my space like an overconfident satellite.

By the third day, I knew something was off.

Damien wasn’t just busy. He was ignoring me.

I told myself I didn’t care. I told myself this was a good thing. But by the end of the week, I caught myself glancing at his office door, waiting for some ridiculous comment that never came.

Weekend came to, with me checking my phon. Maybe I was expecting Damien to text or not. Not that he has my number but he has is means. Even after that nothing happened. 

A week passed. Another Tuesday. Another bad decision waiting to happen.

Jenna strolled in, grinning like she had won the lottery. “I come in peace—with a news piece.”

I barely looked up. “If it’s about your latest reality TV obsession, I’m not interested.”

She slid into the chair beside me, resting her chin on her hands. “Oh, this is better. Much better.”

I sighed. “Fine. What is it?”

She leaned in. “Word around the office is that Damien Carter rejected the chairman’s daughter.”

I blinked. “What?”

“And,” she added, dragging out the moment like she was savoring my reaction, “he’s been completely ignoring you for a week.”

“Ignoring me? We are just work colleague, it is normal”, I wish I didn't sound that defensive.

But Jenna wasn't ready to score a brownie point with that because she has a whole speech prepared.

“Instead of that, why not ask me why I said that”, She began and she wasn't done.

 “I know you won't so I will just cut right to the chase,” Then she leaned in further like she was sharing the world's biggest secret with me.

“My eagle eyes sees everything, from Tuesday office morning till Tuesday evening in the corner of a restaurant up till now,” 

And then she bow down like she just delivered the greatest speech of all time.

“Thank you.” With that she left.

Not that I'm surprised that Jenna found out, nothing actually goes past her unless it is breeze. That is just who she is as a reporter.

It shouldn’t be my business what goes on in Damien Carter’s personal life. But for someone not ridiculously rich, why would he reject the chairman’s daughter? Isn’t that everyone’s dream—to be filthy rich and never have to worry about money again?

Then again, given his one week on, one week off behavior, maybe pride is just part of his DNA.

As if on cue—or as if he could read my mind—he appeared in front of me.

“Hello there,” he said, his tone weirdly formal.

I raised an eyebrow. “Good afternoon, Mr. Carter. How may I help you?”

I matched his energy, and from the way his lips twitched, he knew exactly what I was doing

He smirked, clearly entertained. “So formal. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

I gave him a tight-lipped smile. “One week of silence tends to do that.”

He leaned against my desk like he had all the time in the world. “Miss me that much?”

I scoffed. “Please. I just assumed you finally took a vacation to Mind Your Own Business Island.”

His smirk widened. “Tempting, but I had more important things to do.”

“Oh, like rejecting the chairman’s daughter?” I shot back, watching his reaction carefully.

For the first time, his smirk faltered—just a flicker, but I caught it.

“Interesting choice of words,” he said, recovering quickly. “Sounds like someone’s been paying attention.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. Your personal life just happens to be annoyingly loud.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Well, since you’re so invested, maybe you’d like to hear the real reason?”

I folded my arms. “Not really.”

“Too bad.” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice like he was about to tell me the secret to the universe. “I turned her down because I have my eye on someone else.”

I blinked. Once. Twice.

Then I scoffed. “Wow. Tragic. Who’s the unfortunate soul?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “I think you already know.”

Oh, hell no.

I scoffed. “If this is another one of your mind games, Carter, I’m not interested.”

He didn’t smirk this time. Didn’t tease. Just watched me. Calculated. Like he was waiting for something.

Then, with quiet certainty, he said:

“She used to be mine.”

The words barely registered. “What?”

“The girl Eric is with now,” he clarified, voice cool and even. “She’s my ex.”

I blinked. Then blinked again.

No. No way.

I searched his face for any sign of a joke, but Damien Carter didn’t joke.

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?” His smirk returned. “Go ahead. Say her name.”

I didn’t. Because I couldn’t. Because the second I did, the second I admitted it—everything changed.

Damien stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You think Eric just moved on?”

I swallowed. “He did.”

Damien tilted his head. “Then tell me something, Adrianna.”

A pause. A beat. The air between us tightened.

“If I’m so irrelevant,” he murmured, “why did he choose her?”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

I had no answer for that.

Damien leaned in, voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe Eric and I have more in common than you think.”

Something icy slid down my spine.

“I want her back,” he said. “And you’re going to help me.”

I took a step back. “Like hell I am.”

Damien’s smirk deepened. Slow. Deliberate. Like he already knew something I didn’t.

“Oh, Adrianna.”

He let the silence stretch, let the tension coil so tight I could barely breathe.

Then, with maddening confidence, he delivered the final blow:

“You don’t really have a choice.”

Something about the way he said it—calm, certain—made my stomach twist.

Because for the first time since Eric left, I realized…

I might not know him at all.