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 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
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