Imogene ScottBut then, just as I’m about to turn away, I hear a familiar voice.“Imogene.”I freeze. My heart skips a beat, and I turn around slowly, afraid that I’ve imagined it.But I didn’t. There he is. Damien. Standing just a few feet away, his eyes locked on mine, his expression unreadable. He’s still here. He’s not gone.“Damien…” I breathe, taking a shaky step forward.He walks toward me, and I an barely breathe as he steps closer, until we’re standing just inches apart. I search his face, trying to figure out what he’s thinking, but I can’t.“You… you heard me?” I whisper.He nods, his eyes never leaving mine. “I heard everything.”For a moment, neither of us speaks. I bite my lip, waiting for him to say something, anything. I’m terrified that I’ve messed this up beyond repair.“You’re not…saying anything?” I ask under my breath.Damien curls an arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him. Our bodies flush and I barely have time to register what’s happening before he pr
I noticed some readers do not approve of Damien and Imogene’s relationship. So, over to you guys, do you think Damien deserves Imogene?
Imogene Scott Three weeks later… I fold the last dress and tuck it into my suitcase, but my hands linger over the zipper. My stomach churns. It's just one week, I tell myself, pressing down the thoughts that keep rising. A whole week without Lily. I sigh and zip the suitcase shut.I walk over to the dresser, grabbing my phone and charger. The room feels heavy, like it's waiting for me to change my mind. It feels wrong leaving Lily, even if it’s just for a week. “What if she misses us?” I whisper to myself, though I know she’s in good hands. Breonna loves her, and Lily adores Breonna, but still…The doorbell rings, cutting through my thoughts. My heart does this strange little twist, and I force myself to breathe. It’s Breonna. She’s here. I head to the door, opening it to see her standing there with a bright smile. “Hey, you ready?” she asks, stepping inside with a bag slung over her shoulder.“Yeah… almost,” I say, stepping aside to let her in. She immediately picks up on my
Damien Shaw As we pull out of the parking lot, I glance over at Imogene. She’s sitting stiffly in the passenger seat, her hands resting in her lap, fingers twisting a small strand of hair. She’s trying to hide it, but I know her well enough to see the tension in her shoulders. The way her jaw tightens every few seconds. I place a hand on her knee and give it a gentle squeeze. “Lily’s going to be fine, you know,” I say. “Breonna knows what she’s doing. You trust her, right?”“It’s not about trusting Breonna. I do. It’s just...I’ve never been away from her for this long.”I nod, understanding her hesitation. I get it. I really do. But we need this. She needs this. We need time for ourselves after the roller coaster of dramas we’ve been through.“I know it’s hard, but it’s only a week. And we’ll call, FaceTime—hell, Breonna will probably send you a picture of Lily every five minutes if you ask her to.”Imogene smiles faintly. “She’ll be okay,” I repeat, my thumb rubbing soft circl
Imogene Scott Damien and I take the rest of the day to rest after an hour’s video call with Lily. By morning, we are fully recharged to start out seven days relaxation plan. Except, we stay in a private villa, just us two. There’s another one next to ours, but I’m not sure if it’s vacant or not. Which leaves me with the option of checking out to check out the other villas which is a bit far from shore. The villa has tons of people, compared to the secluded part Damien and I booked. A few people are lurking around, while some are in bikinis, sitting under shades by the pool. I suddenly feel too dressed in my long yellow sundress.When I reach the pool, a blonde in a bikini rushes over. “Hey, want a balloon?” She waves a ball-shaped red balloon in front of me. “We’re about to have a game, and Team V needs another player.”“Um. No?” I want to explore a little bit before getting roped into playing some game.“You sure?” “Maybe later.”Her eyes widen. “Wait, aren’t you the MKTO bir
Imogene ScottDahlia smiles as she squeezes my hand. “Don’t stress with labels. I should know better.”“Really,”“Yeah. I’ve been married for ten years now.” she says calmly.Okay, did she just say she’s married? She’s been married for ten years? What the hell is happening here?“What? You were just crying over…”“My jerktastic boyfriend, yes.” she finishes for me. “It’s…erm…it’s an open marriage.”“Wow.” My hands fly to my mouth without me realizing it. An open marriage? I’ve always thought open marriages were ridiculous. Why would you want to sleep with other people when you’re already married and committed to someone else?“Yes. My husband and I can sleep with whoever we want to.” she adds as if she can read my mind. “It doesn’t affect the love we have for each other. At least that was the initial plan until…”“You fell for someone else.” Here I’m thinking my relationship with Damien is complicated.“Exactly.” she sighs. “His name is Daniel. Met him at this night bar my husban
Imogene ScottMy stomach twists. What is wrong with these people? I glance around, suddenly hyperaware of how absurd this entire situation has become. I came here to relax, to have time alone with Damien, not to be dragged into someone else's twisted marriage.I force a smile. “I don’t think that’s necessary,”Dahlia's grin only widens.“Come on, it's all in good fun. Jace and I have a special understanding.”Yeah, I bet you do. "Thanks, but I'm really not interested," I say more firmly this time. My skin still crawls from Jace's lingering touch, and I want nothing more than to put some space between us all.“Suit yourself.” Dahlia shrugs, clearly unfazed. "But if you change your mind, you know where to find us."I give a noncommittal nod and make a hasty exit. As I reach the villa, my phone buzzes in my bag. It’s a message from Damien:[Damien: Where are you? Miss you already.]I exhale, the tension easing slightly. Damien. He's the reason I’m here, not these bizarre distractions.
Imogene Scott Damien and I sound the rest of the day resting. We lounge on the couch, the soft hum of the evening wrapping around us. I take a sip of wine, the cool liquid slipping down my throat, and lean into Damien’s side. His arm drapes lazily over my shoulder, everything feels... easy. No stress, no drama—just us. It’s moments like these that make me want to forget everything else.“I could get used to this,” I murmur, swirling the wine in my glass, watching the deep red catch the light.“Mhm, same here. We should do this more often.”I nod, closing my eyes for a moment, savoring the peace. The faint sound of crashing waves fills the silence between us, and I can almost forget about the chaotic mess this trip has already been. Almost.That is, until the doorbell rings.I sit up a little too quickly, nearly spilling my wine. The soft chime echoes through the villa. My heart skips, my mind already jumping to the worst conclusions. Who the hell could that be?Damien groans beside
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