Imogene ScottDamien shrugs out of his jacket and let it drop on the floor. Half my dress falls from my torso, revealing my breast. I stand there, completely unashamed and honest in my need for him.He reaches around my back for the zipper, then finds and lowers it. He pushes the dress down, and I let it slip down my legs, leaving me in nothing but a tiny red thong. He hisses, then pushes me back gently until I’m sitting on the soft, bouncy mattress. He hooks his fingers on the tiny waist string on my thong and pulls it down. Once I’m stripped of everything except my heels, his warm, large hands on my knees keep me spread wantonly.“You’re dripping,” he grates out.“Looks like you might be, too.” I try to say it playfully, but it’s difficult to act carefree when you’re so turned on you feel like you’re going to die without him on you.I can’t believe I’ve been celibate for three years.At least I’m not the only one going crazy with need. His erection’s pushing hard against his pants
Imogene Scott The morning sun streams through the bedroom window. Despite the late hour—it’s already 8:30—I continue to lie in bed with my eyes closed. I need to get my head together, to make sure memories of the night are real and not dreams.“Hey, lazy bones.”Damien’s voice resolves the confusion. I open my eyes. Dressed in only his boxer shorts, he stands beside the bed, two cups of coffee in his hands.“You want a cup of coffee?”I quickly hand-brush my hair, prop my pillow behind me, sit up, and pull the sheet over my breasts.“You look great,” Damien says, as though he’d read my mind.“You need to see an eye doctor.”He smiles. “There’s nothing wrong with my eyes. It’s my back I’m worried about.”“Why?” I ask, concerned.“After last night . . . .” He lets the comment hang until he sees that I understand he’s teasing. I feel my face go hot. “You’re going to stand there all day?” Damien vents a deep rumble of a laugh and sits on the side of the bed. He hands me a cup. “Would
Imogene Scott After Elinor’s words, I feel as if I’ve been doused with cold water. "No running back to anyone," Yet, she doesn’t know. I’ve already crossed that line, and there’s no turning back now. I steal another glance at Lily, she’s still soundly asleep. For her, everything is probably simple, either you love someone, or you don’t. But life is never that black and white, and I’m tangled somewhere in the gray. As Elinor picks up her phone again, I murmur something about needing to clear my head and slip out of the room. I make my way to the lobby. How do I tell Elinor the truth? How do I face the world knowing that, against my own promises, I’ve let Damien back in? “I can’t believe this is real.” Damien’s words from this morning replay in my mind. And I can’t believe it either. Three years of building walls, of telling myself that I’d moved on and grown stronger without him, all seemed to melt away when I was in his arms again. But the world doesn’t know Damien like I do, or m
Damien ShawWe fly back to LA two days later. Imogene insists we keep our little relationship a secret for now and I’m thrilled to even be in one with her. The feeling of finally getting back the family I’ve always wanted. The feeling you have when you know every effort you’ve put into fighting to get back what you lost, wasn’t in vain.That feeling is pure bliss. I’m never going to let them go again. No matter how much money I have or don’t, I’m at my core, happy because I have everything I need in front of me. This is it. Imogene is it. Some part of me has known that since the minute I laid eyes on her all those years ago.It doesn’t matter how much time we’ve spent apart or what hell we’ve gone through and made it to the other side. I believe this is perfect. Us. Our little family.I exhale sharply as I lean back in my seat. My office phone rings. I consider letting it go to voice mail, then decide maybe I should pick it up in case it has something to do with the upcoming tech c
Imogene Scott The microwave dings, pulling me out of my thoughts, and I nearly jump. I let out a small breath and move to open the door to pull out the bowl of popcorn. The heat radiates from it as I place it carefully on the center table. Lily is perched on the couch, busy playing with her plush rabbit and completely absorbed. I glance at the clock on the wall. 7:16. Damien was supposed to be here at 7. My heart does a little flip, and my stomach twists in that familiar, uncomfortable knot. What if he doesn’t come? What if he’s having second thoughts? I run a hand through my hair, pacing across the living room. Am I taking things too fast?Damien and I already agreed to keep our relationship discreet until after the Tech Con is over. Elinor doesn’t know about him yet, I’m not sure what she would react if she knew. Maybe it’s a good thing she doesn’t know about it. I’m putting my happiness first, for once.I feel the palms of my hands grow clammy, and I wipe them on my jean
Imogene Scott "I’ll be right back," I say, handing Damien the remote and forcing a smile as I head to the door.Who could it be? I can’t think of anyone else besides Elinor so my brain immediately does the maths. I weigh my options—on a scale of 1-10, how violent would she react if she saw Damien here?—I conclude she’s going to lose it. But I can’t hide this from her forever either.I muster all the courage left in me and pull open the door. It’s really Elinor. Her face is unreadable, but something in her eyes makes my skin prickle with goosebumps."We need to talk, Imogene." she says, voice low as she steps through the threshold.I glance back at the living room, where Damien is now sitting with Lily on his lap, her small hands gripping his shirt. They’re both laughing at something on the TV screen.“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” Elinor curse under her breath as she turns around, walking back into the quiet hallway.I immediately follow her and shut the door behind me. “
Imogene Scott"No," I say, shaking my head, taking a step back. "That’s... that’s impossible."But Elinor’s face is painted with raw emotion, and I know she’s telling the truth.“It happened a month ago. The night of Keith’s proposal,” she says, her voice breaking. “I was drunk. Damien was drunk. We didn’t mean for it to happen. It was just one night, Imogene, but now…” She gestures toward her stomach. "Now I’m pregnant with his child."The world seems to narrow, tunneling in on this moment, and I’m hit with a tidal wave of emotions. My throat is tight, and my mind can’t even begin to process what she’s saying.No, not this. Not again.I feel my voice crack as I speak. “Why... why didn’t you tell me?”“I wanted to,” she chokes out. “But I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to ruin things between us. You and Damien—there’s so much history. I didn’t want to be the reason—”“Reason for what?” I snap, stepping away from her completely now, rage bubbling up in my chest. “For breaking my hea
Imogene Scott Damien looks away for a second, and in that moment, I know. I already knew the second Elinor told me, but seeing him now, confirming it... it’s like the final nail in the coffin.“It was a mistake,” he says, his voice low. “It was one night. I was drunk—”“Oh, so that makes it better?” I snap. “You think being drunk excuses sleeping with my best friend?”“No, of course not!” he says quickly. “It doesn’t. I messed up, okay? It was the night of Keith’s proposal... I was angry, and I drank too much, and she was there—”I throw up my hands, cutting him off. “I don’t need to hear the details, Damien! I just—God, I can’t believe this.”“Imogene, please,” he steps closer again, his voice softening. “It didn’t mean anything. I was a wreck after you took Keith’s proposal. I thought I’d lost you—”“You did lose me!” I yell, tears now streaming down my face. “And now you’ve ruined any chance of getting me back!”“You don’t understand,” he says desperately. “Elinor... she might b
Imogene Scott I sit in the salon, my heart pounding so hard that I can feel it in my throat. The hum of the overhead lights, the soft chatter of a few people here for their own quiet escapes, all of it feels distant, like I’m listening through water. Gracie tells me to take a deep breath, that I’m safe now. I try, but the breath gets caught somewhere in my chest. My hands are still shaking.I glance around at the worn leather chairs. It should feel comforting, but instead, it’s just another layer to the storm that’s brewing inside me. I try to focus on it, on how the warmth of the place is supposed to soothe me. It doesn't. Gracie’s voice brings me back. “Business is slow today,” she says with a smile that tries to hide the concern in her eyes. It doesn’t fool me. I can feel her watching me as I try to steady myself. “Yeah,” I murmur. “Thanks for letting me in. I didn’t know where else to go.”She nods. “I’ve seen it all over the news, Imogene.” she’s careful not to make it s
Imogene Scott The first thing I notice when I wake up is the empty space beside me. The sheets are still warm, carrying the faint scent of Damien’s cologne, but he’s already gone. I sit up slowly, rubbing my eyes. The morning light filters through the curtains. The scent of something cooking drifts through the air—eggs, maybe omelets. I push the duvet off and slide my feet into my flip-flops. As I walk out of the bedroom and down the stairs, the soft sounds of laughter and clinking utensils become clearer. In the kitchen, Damien is standing by the stove, a spatula in one hand and an apron lazily tied around his waist. Lily is perched on a high chair, her small hands clapping together as she cheers him on. “Good morning, Mummy!” she says excitedly when she sees me. A tired smile pulls at my lips as I walk over. “Good morning, baby. How are you feeling?” I gently brush a strand of hair out of her face, studying her carefully. “I feel better now!” she announces proudly, her
Imogene ScottIt’s midnight, and I still can’t sleep. I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling because my mind refuses to quiet down. The room is dark except for the faint glow of moonlight seeping through the curtains. The house is silent. I curl my arms around my stomach, my fingers lightly tracing the curve of my belly. Two months. That’s all the time I have before the twins arrive, and yet I don’t feel ready. I barely feel capable of handling Lily some days. How am I supposed to take care of two more babies? I exhale slowly, willing the thoughts away, but they keep creeping back in. Damien was right about one thing—I’ve been forgetful lately. Not just little things like where I left my phone or if I locked the front door, but important things. I should have cleaned up the broken glass earlier. I should have been more careful. What if it had been worse? What if Lily had gotten seriously hurt because of me? My throat tightens. I know I should see a doctor, but the very
Damien ShawI let out a slow breath, my fingers pressing against my temples as I watch Imogene walk out of the room. The door doesn’t slam, but the sound of it clicking shut is just as final. My jaw tightens. Of course, she walked away. That’s what she does when she doesn’t want to hear something, shuts down, closes herself off. I loosen my tie, feeling the frustration settle in my chest. I hadn’t meant to start an argument. But how could she act like this wasn’t serious? It’s not just about her anymore. She’s been forgetting things more and more lately, and now Lily’s gotten hurt because of it. Just a small cut, sure. But what if it had been worse? What if she had stepped on something deeper, something that couldn’t be patched up with a bandage and a sticker? I exhale through my nose, rubbing a hand down my face. Fighting with Imogene never gets me anywhere. She’s stubborn. Too stubborn. But damn it, I don’t want to wake up one day and realize something terrible has happened be
Imogene Scott I carefully press the small, pastel-colored sticker onto the bandage covering Lily’s tiny foot. A smiling cartoon bear grins back at me, as if that alone can erase my guilt. I kiss her forehead, inhaling the soft, baby-powder scent of her hair. "I'm sorry, baby," I whisper, brushing a stray curl away from her face. Lily shifts on the couch, pulling the plush blanket over her lap. "It's not Mummy’s fault," she says in her small, serious voice. "Lily wasn’t careful." My heart clenches. Even at four, she’s trying to take the blame for something that’s entirely mine. I should’ve cleaned up the glass right away. I should’ve been more careful. I lift her tiny hand to my lips and kiss it. "Do you want me to get you anything?" Lily’s eyes brighten. "Chocolates!" I shake my head, smiling despite myself. "You know you can’t have sweets past seven, baby. It’s almost eight." "Please, Mummy?" She pouts, her big brown eyes glaring at me.I sigh. "Fine," I relent,
Imogene ScottI jolt awake, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. For a moment, I don’t know where I am. The room is dimly lit, the heavy curtains keeping most of the daylight out. My heart is racing, my body damp with sweat. I sit up slowly, pressing a hand to my chest. The dream is already slipping away, but I know what it was about. Georgia. It’s always Georgia. My dreams are always about her. Mostly about that night she died.I exhale shakily and push a damp strand of hair from my face. My nightgown clings to my back, sticky with sweat. The dream lingers, making my skin prickle with unease. Why won’t these nightmares stop?I reach for the glass of water on my nightstand, desperate for something to soothe my dry throat, but my hand meets empty space. I blink, frowning. It’s always there. I always leave it there. And then I remember—I moved the jug before my nap. But where? I try to picture it, but my mind feels sluggish, foggy. Did I put it in the kitchen? On the dr
Damien Shaw I’m at my desk, working through a contract revision when Kia steps into my office. I don’t look up immediately, still focused on the document in front of me. “Sir, someone’s here to see you,” she says. I finally glance up, rubbing the bridge of my nose. The first thought that comes to mind is the damn principal. I hope he hasn’t shown up here to grovel in person. I already made it clear—either they fix their behavior toward Lily, or I pull every last cent I’ve donated to that school. I don’t need another pointless apology. But when the door opens wider, it’s not the principal. It’s Sheila. I frown, leaning back in my chair as I take her in. She looks… fine. Not sick. But Imogene told me Sheila was unwell and wouldn’t be coming in for a few days. So what the hell is she doing here? “Sheila,” I say, watching her carefully. “Mr. Shaw.” She nods in greeting. “What are you doing here?” My tone is sharp.She offers a small smile, shifting on her feet. “I was
Imogene ScottI take my time getting Lily ready for school the next morning. With Sheila still sick and not coming in, the task is entirely mine, and I don’t mind. I cherish these moments—though today, my mind feels sluggish. I’m bothered by Georgia’s bracelet I found yesterday and the strange sense of forgetfulness creeping into my life lately. Lily sits on the edge of my bed, swinging her little legs back and forth as I button up her white blouse. She tilts her head back to look up at me.“Mommy, what’s wrong?” she asks. I pause for a second, startled. “Nothing, baby.” I smooth down her collar, making sure it sits perfectly. “I just want to remind you that if anything happens at school, if you feel sick or if someone makes you uncomfortable, you have to tell me, okay?” Lily nods, her curls bouncing with the movement. “Yes, Mommy.” “That’s my good girl.” I kiss the top of her head and take her small hand in mine, as I lead her out of the house. The drive to school is fi
Imogene Scott Lily giggles as she picks at the last piece of her banana pancake. Her tiny fingers are sticky with syrup. I watch her as I rest my head against the back of the chair. But my mind is somewhere else. The bracelet. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, staring up at the ceiling as if the answer is hidden somewhere in the cracks. Did I put it there? Had I forgotten? That’s the only logical explanation. Lately, I’ve been forgetful—missing appointments, losing track of time, misplacing things. Maybe this is just another slip, another thing lost in the chaos of my mind. But it doesn’t feel right. I inhale deeply, my fingers curling into my lap. I need to see it again. “Lily, baby, I’ll be right back,” I say, pushing my chair back. She nods, too focused on her food to question me. I walk upstairs slowly, each step. When I reach my bedroom, I hesitate for a moment before stepping inside. The room is dim. I make my way to the dresser. The drawer creaks