Thank you for making it this far with "He Hurt Me, Now He Wants Me Back."
So Far, what do you think about the pace of the book? Is it too fast or too slow? Do you think the problems are being solved too fast or they should drag on much longer? Feel free to leave a comment on what you think. XoXo- Author Siwa Rose.Imogene Scott Two weeks later… It’s no surprise that the whole incident didn’t affect the Tech Con Project. Except Keith now works his part alone. He sends his assistant to important meetings too. What’s with men and having their poor assistant face the humiliation for them?I haven’t seen Keith since that night at the police station. We don’t even run into each other even though we stay in the same building. I’m not sure how long he’s going to avoid a confrontation. He should at least own up to his mistakes and apologize like a man.I guess I should really level up regarding my taste in men.But I can’t let that bother me right now because I need to get ready for a wedding. Not mine obviously, but my Dad is getting remarried. Funny, right? His third marriage. I’m surprised he suddenly found the love of his life two months after finally regaining everything he lost.But I’m happy for him, at least Sasha and Fiona, my step mom and step sister, are out of the picture now and Da
Damien Shaw Imogene is standing by the altar, resplendent in a pale orange dress that makes her glow despite the dark skies. Wisps of hair frames her face, and a delicate glint of gold gleams around her neck.If I were a bride, I would never let her in my wedding party because she outshines everyone around her. Every time, a million times over.Orange instead of white. Bridesmaid instead of bride.It isn’t our wedding, but seeing her up there, looking so damn beautiful I can’t believe she’s real...it’s an excruciating reminder of what I’d had.And what I’d lost.But at least now there’s hope. Keith is out of the picture and Imogene is letting me have visits with Lily too. I’m finally getting to occasionally see my daughter and I’m finally unlocking the cage in Imogene’s heart. She knows it. She just isn’t ready to admit it. The rest of the ceremony passes in a blur. It isn’t until the other guests stand and file into the reception hall that I realize the actual wedding is over
Imogene Scott“You what?” Elinor’s face scrunches in disapproval. “Why would you agree to go on a date with your ex-husband?”“It’s not as bad as it sounds. I told him one date and that it doesn’t mean we’re dating, which means we can see other people.” I say, grabbing my robe out of the closet.Elinor and I are staying in the same hotel room and the wedding ended an hour ago. Dad and Lila will be staying in Brooklyn for a few more days and Elinor also agreed we stay for the weekend. Except she might change her mind now that she knows Damien and I are going on a date tomorrow night.“Are you actually seeing other people?”“Not yet,” I admit, putting on my robe. “But I will once I’m back in LA.”I doubt that. I still haven’t moved on from Keith’s betrayal. “You’re going on a date with someone you divorced three years ago,” Elinor says gently. “I’m just worried you’re...backsliding,” “No.” My response contains the ring of a half- truth. “I know Damien. He won’t give up until he get
Imogene ScottI stand in front of my mirror, turning slightly to the left, then to the right, appraising my reflection. My black dress clings to my curves just enough to make me feel both elegant and comfortable. I don’t know why I’ve put in so much effort for tonight. Damien already called earlier, telling me that he had arranged a car to pick me but he was vague with the details. I just hope he isn’t planning something huge. We agreed on a date. Which is short for dinner.Elinor still doesn’t think it’s a good idea but she’s agreed to watch Lily tonight. I smooth a hand over my hair, freshly curled and cascading down my back, and apply a final coat of lipstick.“You look gorgeous.” Elinor says as she walks into the room. “You’re literally going to blind everyone with your gorgeousness.”She’s exaggerating. That’s what she does.I frown. “You’re overcompensating.”“I’m not. You’re going to steal breaths away.” she says dramatically. “You really went all out with your dressing to
Imogene ScottDamien walks toward me, the crowd parting as he moves. When he reaches me, there’s something in his eyes that’s different—something softer."Happy birthday, Imogene," he says quietly. "This... all of this, it’s for you."My mouth goes dry. "You did all this?" I manage to whisper, barely able to form the words.He nods, his eyes never leaving mine. "I wanted to show you how much you’ve meant to me. How much you’ve always meant to me, even when I didn’t know how to show it."My heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest. I look around again, my mind struggling to keep up with the enormity of what he’s done. It’s too much. Too grand. Too… overwhelming. I want to say something, anything, but my words fail me.He gestures toward the center of the gallery where a painting sits covered by a cloth. “I have something special for you. A gift.” He leads me to it, the crowd falling silent as he gently pulls the cloth away.The painting is beautiful. It’s me, but not jus
Imogene ScottMy head is buzzing. The rest of the party feels louder, brighter and more wonderful. Halfway through, Damien leads me to a small empty room for the last surprise of the night.My mind is still unable to comprehend the ones he’s already revealed and now he’s telling me there’s another one?We walk into the quiet room in the hallways. The gallery has a suite right in the corner and urs next to the room we’re in. “I’m sorry I…erm…kissed you out there in front of everyone.” I say.He smiles. “I don’t mind.”I cough. “So…”Reaching into his pocket, Damien pulls out a thick bundle of letters, tied together with a faded ribbon. “I wrote you every day since you left. I never sent them, but I want you to have them now.”I stare at the letters, my hands trembling as he hands them to me. My name is scrawled across the top of each envelope in his familiar handwriting, and my heart feels like it’s about to break. This is too much. “I’ve never stopped loving you, Imogene,” he says
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 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
Imogene Scott Lily swings her legs under the table, her tiny feet barely brushing the ground as she happily digs into her mint chocolate ice cream. A small smear of green is at the corner of her mouth. She hums quietly as she eats, completely lost in her own little world. I should be able to enjoy this moment. Watching her be this happy should bring me peace, but it doesn’t. My stomach twists as I stare at her even though my own ice cream is melting in the cup. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have let things get this far. I shouldn’t have let my past mistakes bleed into Lily’s life. She’s just a child, my child, and she deserves to grow up without the weight of my sins pressing down on her. She looks up suddenly, “Mommy, are you okay?” I force a smile, even though my face feels stiff. “Of course, baby.” Lily nods, satisfied with my answer, and goes back to her ice cream. “Very good, Mommy,” she says in her soft, sweet voice before taking another spoonful. I w
Imogene Scott I pull back from Damien’s embrace. He exhales heavily, brushing his fingers over my cheek before saying, "I need to get back to work. I’ll see you at home tonight."I frown. "You don’t think you should go home first? Shower, change?"He smirks, rubbing his jaw. "It’s already midday, I’ll do everything later tonight."I shake my head, wrapping my arms around him again despite the sweat and stress clinging to his skin. "I want to hug you all day even though you smell so bad.""No, I don’t," he scoffs, tightening his hold on me. "You’re just being mean."I smile against his chest, inhaling deeply before stepping back. "Where are you headed now?" he asks, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear."Lily’s school."His expression shifts. "Something wrong?"I open my mouth to say no—because I don’t want to worry him, because I know how he gets—but then I remember: no more secrets. That’s what we promised each other.I press my lips together and nod. "One of Lily’s clas
Damien Shaw I take a deep breath, my fingers tightening around the pen in my hand as I stare at Imogene. The way she’s looking at me—hurt, disappointed—makes something sharp twist in my chest, but I refuse to let it show. I remind myself why I stayed at the office last night, why I drowned myself in work instead of coming home. Because she needs to understand. Because she’s reckless. Because she keeps putting herself in situations that put our family in danger, and she doesn’t seem to grasp that her actions have consequences.But then there’s the guilt too, gnawing at the back of my mind. I didn’t just stay here to punish her—I stayed because I didn’t trust myself not to say something I’d regret. And now, looking at her standing in front of me, holding that ultrasound picture, my resolve wavers.God, I want to take it from her. I want to reach for it, to see them, to feel something other than this exhaustion and frustration. But if I give in too quickly, she’ll think she can get
Imogene Scott The morning air is crisp as I step out of the house, wrapping my coat a little tighter around myself. A light breeze brushes against my skin as I feel the chill settle in my lungs.I climb into my car, my hands gripping the cold steering wheel as I exhale. My mind is full of thoughts, but the one at the forefront is Damien. He didn’t come home last night. I’d stayed up, waiting, hoping the sound of his footsteps would echo through the hallway. But all I got was silence.When I finally called his office, an employee answered and confirmed what I’d already suspected. He had spent the night there, drowning himself in work just to avoid me. That’s how furious he was. My chest tightens as I pull out of the driveway, gripping the steering wheel a little harder.I plan on stopping by his office later, but first, my doctor’s appointment. Then Lily’s school.The hospital is a fifteen-minute drive, but it feels longer. My mind keeps circling back to Damien’s face last night,
Imogene’s pov I watch as Damien storms out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him with a force that rattles the walls. My hands tremble at my sides, my heart hammering against my ribs. I knew he would be upset—I expected anger, frustration—but not this kind of fury. Not the kind that makes his voice shake with disappointment, that makes his eyes burn with something dangerously close to resentment.I sit down heavily on the edge of the bed, exhaling a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My mind races. How did he find out? Who told him? And why, after everything, does it still hurt that he’s so mad at me? He’s the only person left standing beside me in this storm, and now I feel like I’m losing him too.Subconsciously, I place my hands over my belly. The twins stir inside me, and I close my eyes. I’m due in two months. Two months until my life changes again. Two months until I’m holding them in my arms. But will I even be here for them? Or will I be behind bars, labeled “
Damien Shaw I step into my office, and the shift in the atmosphere is immediate. The air feels charged, thick with something. Eyes flicker toward me, then dart away, as if my presence is suddenly a weight they can’t bear to acknowledge. It’s been like this for days—whispers in the corridors, hushed conversations that stop the moment I step too close.They see me as a man protecting a murderer.I clench my jaw, ignoring the way my employees’ gazes follow me as I make my way to my office. The door clicks shut behind me, and I exhale slowly, my fingers pressing against my temples. The scandal is bleeding into IMU, seeping into the cracks, poisoning the foundation I spent years building. It isn’t just the company’s reputation at stake—investors are losing faith, deals are slipping through the cracks.And worst of all, there’s no solid proof that Imogene is innocent.I sit down, leaning back in my chair, the leather creaking beneath my weight. I need a plan. Something to turn this arou
Imogene Scott I grip the steering wheel, my knuckles whitening as I pull into the parking lot of the police station. My heart is hammering against my ribcage, so loud it nearly drowns out the hum of the engine. A part of me screams to turn back, to go home, to pretend I never got that text. But another part—the logical, rational part—knows that avoiding this will only make me look guilty.I take a deep breath, steadying myself before stepping out of the car. I pull my coat tighter around my body, trying to suppress the shiver crawling up my spine. The station’s glass doors slide open, and I walk in, my heels clicking against the tiled floor. The fluorescent lights overhead are too bright, making my skin prickle.A female officer greets me. “Mrs. Shaw, this way.”My stomach clenches. My voice feels lodged in my throat as I follow her down the hall. She leads me into an interrogation room, and I hesitate before stepping inside. The walls are bare, painted a dull gray, and the sing
Imogene scott The next morning I wake up early to make breakfast for Damien as a thank you for the ice cream yesterday. It’s not like I was able to sleep anyway. I slip into my flip flops and walk out of the room. Damien is still sleeping because it’s still 6:30pm. The scent of scrambled eggs hits me the moment I step off the last stair. I pause. That’s strange. It’s Saturday. Sheila shouldn’t be here this early. I pull my robe tighter around my body, shivering even though the house is warm. I walk into the kitchen to see Sheila standing at the stove, humming softly as she stirs a pan of eggs. There’s already a plate of bacon resting on the counter, and the coffee machine is also gurgling.“Sheila?” I say.She looks over her shoulder, startled. “Oh! Morning, Imogene.” I frown. “What are you doing here so early?” Sheila blinks at me, then lets out a small chuckle like I just told a joke she doesn’t quite get. “You asked me to come early today.” My stomach dips. “I did?”