Imogene Scott “Thank you.” I say to Damien as we both step out of Scott Luxuries.The final decision for the takeover bid hasn’t been made yet. The board members are making their votes and it’ll be announced later tonight. Damien assured me that we’re getting the company back but one part of me can’t stop thinking on the negative side. And even though I’m really grateful to him, it changes nothing.He offers to drop me off at the gallery and I agree since I’m still stoked from earlier and I don’t think my trembling hands can drive well. The ride is in complete silence, the hum of the engine the only sound breaking the tension between us. I notice Damien stealing glances at me every now and then. I ignore him, and try to distract myself with the little gift bag on the headboard. It’s red with “Girlish-Store.” written on the nylon as it’s logo.“What’s that?” I ask, more to myself than to him.“That? I…erm.” he smacks his lips, a delay tactic. “I bought it at an online store.”“For
Damien Shaw Keith and I visit the convention site alone since Imogene suddenly bailed on us. She said nothing about why she couldn’t make it or what she was up to. I discussed our special booth concept for the convention, with a contractor a few months back and he was going to meet us at the site. But Keith and I arrived a few minutes ago and the contractor still hasn’t yet arrived.We continue to sit in my car in silence as we wait for the contractor. I’m starting to lose my cool because I’m not a fan of waiting. Keith on the other hand is relaxed in his seat next to me with his eyes closed.My phone buzzes with a text from the contractor. [Will be there in ten minutes.]Exasperated, I shrug and take a deep breath. Keith opens his eyes and glances at me. Then gives me a long hard look.“Can you stop breathing so loudly?” he says.I narrow my eyes. “Can you stop saying every little thought that comes to your tiny mind?”“Speaking of thoughts…” he trails off as he sits up. A smug
Imogene Scott I swallow hard as I turn to Keith. “Can we…erm…talk at the office tomorrow?”Keith is able to understand the situation and he nods before disappearing into the elevator. As soon as he’s gone, Elinor takes a step closer to me, her heels clicking against the linoleum floor.“What’s your hot landlord talking about just now?” Elinor asks calmly even though I can tell she’s pissed from how tight her voice sounds.I gulp down. “I…kinda didn’t tell you the whole truth.”“About…”“The Tech Con project.” I finally say.Shit, I should’ve told her immediately. I was just scared of how she would react. She never wants to hear anything that has to do with amien.“Which is?” Elinor says.I lean against the wall again. I want to ask her to let us discuss this inside, but Lily is asleep and I don’t want to disturb her. Especially since Elinor doesn’t know how to keep her voice down at pivotal moments like this.“Damien is also on the team.” I finally say. Elinor takes a deep breat
Imogene Scott For the next few days, Elinor completely goes ghost on me. She isn’t returning my calls or my texts or emails! I’m gravely affected by it since she’s the only friend I have in LA. It’s all my fault for keeping the details from her. Shit!I’m turning into an irrational mess, and I hate it. I can’t let her absence bother me when I have important decisions to make. Like now, in this conference room.“So, our booth is ready. I was wondering if we could all go check it out to determine the digital mural arrangement.” Keith says, gesturing at me.“Definitely.” I reply halfheartedlyDamien is seated at the edge of the table. He’s glancing at his phone screen. He finally looks up. “Y’all can go on. I’ll meet you at the site.”He rushes out of the room and I exchange a confused glance with Keith. “What was that about?” he asks.“I don’t know.” I say. “We should get going?”Keith nods and we both walk out of the conference room. We drive in silence to the site in his car. I’m
Imogene Scott But instead of a shadowy figure or some deranged person, I see Damien standing there, a flashlight in hand. The relief is so overwhelming that I almost drop the bat.My mind doesn’t stop to think about how and why he’s even here. Sure, he left earlier than us but he didn’t have to come right ahead if we were all heading to the same place. Right?“Damien?” My voice is shaky. “What the hell are you doing here?”He raises an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by my reaction. “I could ask you the same thing,” he says, lowering the flashlight. “I got here early because one of the contractors mentioned the restrooms need to be renovated before the convention. I had to check it out myself.”I blink. He’s gotta be kidding me. “You came all the way here… for a restroom?”That makes literally no sense.His mouth quirks into a wry smile. “I like to be thorough.”No kidding.I lower the bat completely, still holding it just in case. “Well, I don’t care about your thoroughness right no
Imogene Scott Just as Damien’s lips are about to brush against mine, the sound of Keith’s voice cuts through the air, sharp and clear.“Imogene, are you in there?” Keith yells from the other side of the door.I jerk back as if I’ve been burned, and the spell is broken. Elinor warned me, being around Damien would be no good for me. He’s manipulative, knows the right time to say and do things. Knows the right time I might crack under pressure.Shit!“I’m here! The door’s jammed!” I shout, my voice trembling.There’s a brief moment of silence, followed by a series of bangs as Keith forces the door open. The metal groans and then swings wide, flooding the cramped space with light and fresh air. I scramble to my feet, shrugging off Damien’s jacket as I do.“Thank you,” I say to Keith, my voice shaky. I don’t dare look back at Damien as I step past him, out into the open space of the site.Damien follows, his expression unreadable. “What took you so long to find us?” he asks Keith, his
Imogene Scott My head throbs as I pace back and forth my bedroom cradling Lily in my arms. She was asleep a while ago after Breonna left, but now she’s suddenly awake ten minutes later and wailing. She isn’t hungry, I tried giving her food. She doesn’t want to play either because she keeps tossing the toys aside. I can’t seem to figure out what she wants.Her small body is warm and squirming against me and her cries grow more frantic with each passing second. I try to soothe her, whispering soft words, bouncing her gently, but nothing seems to work. Her face is flushed, her tiny hands gripping at my shirt, and I can feel her tears soaking through the fabric.“Shhh, baby, please,” I murmur, but my voice is barely audible over her cries. My throat feels raw, the result of the cold I caught at the site earlier today. It has only gotten worse since I got home. Every breath feels like I’m dragging it through sandpaper, and my head is pounding so hard it feels like it might split in
Imogene Scott The morning sun filters through the window in my room, painting the walls in soft, golden light. I blink slowly, letting the warmth seep into my bones. I sit up and take a moment to register how I feel. My head no longer feels like it’s stuffed with wet cotton balls and molasses. As much as I hate to admit it, the chicken noodle soup Damien brought me last night must’ve done the trick. The thought of him in my apartment last night lol ast night, makes my stomach twist, but I push it aside. I stand up carefully. The room doesn’t whirl around me. Feeling optimistic, I stretch my arms above my head, feeling the tension in my muscles ease slightly. But then, the memories of last night flood back in.Damien was really here, in my apartment. He held Lily, comforted her like it was the most natural thing in the world, and even served me food. My heart constricts painfully, a mix of anger, confusion, and something else I can’t quite name.What was I thinking? He’s my ex-husb
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