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
Damien Shaw No one beats Imogene when it comes to pretending like nothing happened. She’s a master at it. Right now, she sits across from me in the conference room, her posture straight, her face impassive, her attention seemingly focused on the meeting that just ended. Her pen taps rhythmically against the table, and she makes notes in that neat, precise handwriting of hers. There’s not a single hint in her demeanor that suggests she cares.I’m seething inside, watching her act like everything is perfectly normal. How can she do this? How can she act like I didn’t take care of her when she was sick, like I didn’t hold our daughter in my arms for the first time in what feels like forever? That night—it wasn’t just about soup or care. It was a glimpse, into something I’ve been longing for. A family. My family. Our family. The way Lily clung to me, the way Imogene softened, just for a moment... It made me feel complete in a way I haven’t in years. But now, sitting here in this
Imogene Scott Damien doesn’t show up for meeting for the next few days and I conclude he’s hurt by my words. It’s a good thing. He needs to fucking understand there’s no place for him in mine and Lily’s life.I don’t let his absence bother me so I make sure to keep my schedule tight. I also hop on occasional video calls with Lily and Breonna every now and then. Then later, I meet Mrs Rita Phineas for a late brunch.“Dessert?” Mrs Phineas ask, raising an eyebrow at me.We just finished having brunch at Junior’s, a well-known tourist trap restaurant that actually has some of the best cheese cakes in the city. “Of course.” I study the dessert menu for an eternity. “I can’t decide between the raspberry swirl, Oreo, or red velvet.”“Get them all,” Mrs Phineas says. I love the way she acts when she’s around me. It’s like she’s my best friend and we’re the same age. “A sampler. We don’t have to finish them.”I slap my menu down on the table. “Speak for yourself. Inever leave desse
Imogene Scott The news article is all I can think about as I drive back home. My throat feels tight and I can’t push down the annoying feeling that keeps tugging down at my heartstrings. Damien is leaving for two years. He’s going to Africa, far away from Lily and I. It’s a good thing, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.My prayers have finally been answered.I get out of my car and walk into the building. For some reason, the walk across the lobby takes forever but I finally walk into the elevator. It dumps me on the seventh floor and I walk to my apartment, pressing the doorbell.Ding!Breonna soon steps out, a wide smile on her lips as she welcomes me. “Good evening, Ms Scott.”She tells me lily is asleep so I go straight to my room. I shred my clothes and step into the bathroom. In the bathroom, I throw my robe on the black granite counter and avoid looking in the mirror.I turn the shower on extra hot, hoping the heat would relieve the chill that has settled on me, and climb under
Imogene Scott I sit in the living room, wringing my hands together as I stare at the clock. The agency said they’d send the fourth candidate soon, but if she’s anything like the last three, I’m not sure I’ll survive the day. The first woman looked like she’d send me into an early grave with how tightly wound she was, and the second… I don’t even want to think about her. I could practically see her zoning out halfway through our conversation. The third one made me tilt my head in disbelief—a heavy coat, in this heat? On a blazing sunny day? What was she hiding under there? I shake my head, exasperated. A long sigh slips from my lips, and I sink further into the couch, staring at the sun-drenched curtains. Why is this so hard? I just want someone competent. Someone who can help me manage this house without driving me insane. The sharp ring of the doorbell jolts me upright. I spring to my feet, brushing invisible creases from my dress. Fourth time’s the charm, right? I don’t
Damien Shaw "I don’t even know who to trust anymore." The words are frustrating as they leave my mouth. I press my hands flat against the edge of my desk, gripping it harder. Gerald stands across from me, his expression carefully neutral, but I can see the tension in his jaw. “Weaknesses in our security?” I continue. “And now we’re sure someone on the inside helped with the leak?”Gerald nods. “Yes. The evidence points to internal involvement. Possibly more than one person.” The idea sinks into my chest like a stone. More than one person. It’s almost unthinkable. My team, the people I’ve trusted, built this company with—could they really be working against me? My throat tightens at the thought. “We need a full background check on every employee,” I say. “No exceptions. I don’t care how long they’ve been with the company, whether they’re at the executive level or just interns. Go through them all.”Gerald hesitates, just for a second. “That’ll take time,” he says carefull
Imogene Scott My mind is spinning as I step out of Lila’s office. Divorce papers. My father’s name on them. Lila’s isn’t. A billion-dollar check. For her? My heels echo sharply against the marble floor as I walk. In the lobby, I see the receptionist who texted me earlier and make my way toward her. She looks around nervously, then waves me over to a quieter corner. “You’re Mr. Scott’s daughter, right?” her voice low.“Yes,” I say. “Why?”She glances over her shoulder, then leans in, her voice barely above a whisper. “Your father was here the day before he was... you know. Killed. He and Lila had a huge fight in her office. I couldn’t hear what they were arguing about, but it was bad.”My stomach drops. “Do you remember anything else? Anything at all?” She shakes her head apologetically. “No, but... there’s something not right about her. She’s hiding something about this company. I’ve been here a long time, and I know when something’s off.”I blink, trying to process her word
Imogene Scott A week later… I sit in the stiff leather chair, my hands resting over my stomach. The waiting room is quiet and the door finally swings open. The doctor steps in, holding a folder. My breath hitches. This is routine, I remind myself. Routine. I’m here for my usual checkup. Alone this time. I had told Damien he didn’t have to accompany me since he’s been missing a lot work a lot lately because of me.“Mrs. Shaw,” The doctor says with a polite nod, gesturing for me to join him in his office. I follow, my heels clicking against the tile floor. His office smells faintly of antiseptic and lavender, maybe. I sit across from his desk, the folder now open in front of him. He doesn’t look alarmed, but there’s a wrinkle in his brow. “Imogene, I’m glad you came in today.” “Is everything alright?” He nods but steeples his fingers, leaning forward slightly. “The babies are fine, but your stress levels are higher than we’d like. It’s starting to show in your vitals
Imogene Scott The bedroom feels too big when Damien walks out. I sit up in bed, clutching the edge of the blanket. I let out a shaky breath, staring at the door he just closed. He’s going to ask me about therapy. I know he will. I don’t even know how to explain it. How do I tell him that sitting in that room felt like unpacking a suitcase only to realize you’ve brought nothing but broken things? That therapy didn’t feel like healing—it felt like dragging wounds out into the open and watching them bleed. I shake my head. I can’t stay in bed waiting for him to corner me. The quiet will drive me insane. I throw back the covers and swing my legs over the side of the bed. My head spins as I stand, but I grip the bedpost and steady myself. I shuffle to the door, trailing my hand along the wall as I make my way downstairs. The faint hum of the stovetop reaches my ears, along with the rhythmic sound of Damien chopping something. I stop at the edge of the kitchen and watch him.
Damien Shaw “Please, keep the investigation discreet for now,” I say firmly, meeting Gerald’s gaze. My voice is steady, but my insides churn. Gerald nods and gathers his notes before leaving my office. The door clicks shut and I sink into my seat, pinching the bridge of my nose as my temples throb. Five meetings, all back-to-back in one morning. Each one is a battlefield of strategy, damage control, and trying to piece together what the hell is happening with this damn leak. My head feels like it’s about to split open, and the office suddenly seems unbearably warm. I loosen my tie and lean back, closing my eyes for a brief moment. I need just a second—one second to breathe— My phone vibrates against the desk, shattering the silence. I grab it immediately, hoping it’s Gerald with an update, but instead, I see Imogene’s name. It’s a text: Imogene: "I don’t think therapy is good for me."My stomach twists. Therapy. The session. What happened? My thumb hovers over her nam
“Yes,” I say with a little more heat on it than I would’ve liked. “Because he believed in me. He believed I could do it.”“Okay.”“He believed in me.”“I understand.”Beat.“Can you tell me what happened after you helped him save the company?” Annie pauses to find the right words. This one I don’t want to answer but I feel like if I wiggle around it Annie will just come right back for the jugular with her follow up. I tread with caution.“Well… he got married again.”“And you?”“Yes, what about me?”“Were you in touch with him?”“Well, he had his new life. We barely kept touch.”Annie holds another of her trademark unreadable stares at me. Even though I can’t gauge the specics, I can tell there’s a lot of speculation going on. I feel theneed to add more.“Plus, we started keeping in touch again recently.” I give a little nod to punctuate my statement. I’m hoping that moved the dialon Annie’s judgment, but after a few seconds I can tell it didn’t.Annie purses her lips. “Who reached
Imogene Scott I sit down in the tufted chair opposite Dr Annie Eddie and let out a sigh. This is my first therapy session with her and I’m a little nervous. I’m only here because of Damien. Because I want to be better for him, for Lily and the twins. I tell her a few things about my life I’m comfortable telling anyone and she tells me in order to get to what’s underneath those emotions, what’s driving it, we need to unpack my life in a more comprehensive way.“Okay…” I’m hesitant. What will this entail? I hate the uncertainty.“And please, address me as Annie.” I nod. “Sure.”“Now, I want to understand more about Little Imogene,” she says tenderly. “I understand your mother died of cancer when you were just ten.”Always with the childhood, these therapists. I’ve seen enough movies and TV shows to know that this is the classic therapeutic scapegoat. Some shit happenedin your childhood, it messed you up, that’s why you are the way you are.But not me. I didn’t have an alcoholic d
Damien Shaw The kitchen smells like butter and eggs as I stand by the stove, flipping the omelette in the pan. The sizzle fills the air, and I catch the faintest scent of parsley—Lily insists she hates green things, but I sneak them in for her anyway. I glance at the clock above the sink. It’s later than I thought. Imogene is still upstairs with the doctor. I hope that goes smoothly, but something tells me it won’t. “Mummy says eggs make you strong like Superman!” Lily’s voice cuts through my thoughts as she rushes into the kitchen.“Is it ready, Daddy?” she asks.She’s peering up at me with those wide, curious eyes that make me feel like I’m doing something right in this whole parenting thing. “Just in time,” I say.I slide the omelette onto a small plate, cut it into smaller pieces, then hand it to her. “Thank you!” she chirps before scampering into the living room. I follow her with my eyes as she climbs onto the couch, settling in with her plate. A faint movement ca