Imogene Scott
“I think Damien knows you’re back in town, but he doesn’t know about Lily yet.” Elinor’s voice from yesterday keeps echoing in my head and I’m unable to concentrate on the artwork my assistant, Emmett Brown is showing me. “Imogene?” Emmett calls again. “Should I put this George W. Bush terrier painting at the center of the room?” I cock my head. I sometimes wonder how Emmett knows so much about art when he only has a degree in art history—a made-up degree for rich people. “Sure. It’s the centerpiece.” I say and he gives me a long look before walking towards the white wall of the gallery. Emmett is good at his job even though he just started yesterday. He’s twenty five, but still, it’s like God ran out of decent personality, felt bad about it, and overcompensated by giving him a gorgeous face. He’s ridiculously good looking with broad shoulders and a body that puts any male model to shame. His smugness and lack of personality is a huge turn off, but I had to hire him because his talent is so undeniable. I sighed heavily as my eyes scans the gallery. It’s alive with people moving around with purpose. The chair and tables are being arranged out front since the event will be held outside. The final touches for tonight’s grand opening are still in progress too. I’m standing in the center of it all, but my mind is elsewhere. I’ve spent all night thinking about what Elinor said to me about Damien. Damien knows I’m in town but he doesn’t know about Lily yet. It’s only a matter of time before he finally does and what happens then? My heart squeezes at the thought. He still very much hates me, what if he tries to take Lily away from me? Maybe it’s not too late to give it all up and return to West Virginia? But why should I run? I’ve done nothing wrong, I’m not the one that put a knife to his back! That familiar feeling starts creeping up my spine again. The feeling of fear and heartbreak. I’ve left this all behind me. For my happiness, for Lily. I’m not going to let it back into my life. Ever. Damien is never going to find out about Lily. The ringtone of my phone snaps me out of my daze, and I quickly reach for it. The screen flashes with Elinor’s name, and I can’t help but fake a smile as I answer. “Elinor,” I say, holding the phone close to my ear. “Hey, Imogene. Just wanted to let you know that Lily is doing great. We’re having a lot of fun,” Elinor’s voice is warm, reassuring, and it eases some of the tension in my body. “Thank you, Elinor. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I reply, my eyes scanning the gallery, noting how everything seems to be falling into place. The only thing not in place, it seems, is me. “You really should take it easy. It’s your big night, after all. Are you okay?” “I’m fine, just… busy,” I admit, rubbing my forehead with the back of my hand. I glance at the clock on the wall and realize I’ve been so caught up in the preparations that I haven’t even thought about what I’m going to wear tonight. “Well, make sure you enjoy yourself. You deserve it,” Elinor says before hanging up. As the call ends, a wave of panic washes over me. I haven’t even picked out a dress for tonight. I’ve been so engrossed in making sure everything is perfect for the gallery’s opening that I’ve completely neglected myself. “Emmett!” I call out and he soon appears at my side. I tell him about my dress situation but he tells me it’s already been delivered an hour ago and waiting for me to try on in the showroom. I furrow my eyebrows, I’m not sure I heard right because it doesn’t make any sense. I haven’t ordered any dresses for tonight, not yet. Unless, Elinor ordered the dress for me? Of course, Elinor would think of that. I immediately feel grateful to Elinor, for the fifth time today. I make my way towards the showroom, which is nestled further inside the gallery. As I enter the showroom, I spot the dress hanging on a mannequin in the corner of the room. It’s breathtaking—a floor-length gown of deep emerald green, with delicate embroidery that shimmers subtly under the light. The fabric looks rich, luxurious, and I can’t help but run my fingers over it. Elinor really has eyes for the good stuff. It's exactly what I would’ve chosen for myself. I quickly undress and slip into the gown, the smooth silk gliding effortlessly over my skin. It fits perfectly, hugging my curves in all the right places. The color complements my dark hair and pale complexion. There’s a knock on the door, and a makeup artist steps in. She greets me with a smile and begins her work. When she’s finished, I open my eyes and take in the final result. The dress, the makeup, everything comes together beautifully. I feel like a different person, someone confident, someone ready to take on the world. But that lingering feeling of doubt remains and I can’t seem to shake it off. I take one last look at myself in the mirror, adjusting a stray hair, before stepping out of the room and back into the gallery. The space is bustling with activity now, more people have arrived, and the air is charged. The main event will be held outside, under the stars, but the inside of the gallery is already filling up with guests. This is really happening. My heart thumps in my chest with every step I take in my shiny diamond heels. “You’re an artist, and you’ve found a way to make a living from your art.” Mrs Steele, one of my major investors, says to me halfway through the event. We’re standing outside just by the tall opening cake. The night air is cool against my skin. I’ve spent half the night talking to my investors and smiling so hard that I feel my mouth will rip soon. My face turns pink as Mrs Steele continues to praise me. “That’s pretty enterprising. Most people quit before they ever get a chance to fail. You’re impressive.” I wave the compliment away. Slow music starts playing in the background, Mrs Steele moves away towards her husband. I step backward and watch them dominate the dance floor. My heart aches for them, but in a good way. How they’re in their late seventies and still married. Suddenly, I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder. A young man is standing right in front of me with his hands stretched out. I’ve never met him before but he’s incredibly gorgeous in a black suit and crisp white shirt. His hair is dark blonde and his fave is so carefully sculpted like God took an extra day creating him. He’s beaming with smiles too. Okay, where the hell did this god fall from? "Would you let me have this dance, Miss Scott?" he asks under his breath. Everyone is now staring at us and don’t want to let down so I agree. He leads me to the dance floor and the spotlight follows us. We dance to "Perfect" by Ed Sheeran. He tries to start a conversation but I pretend not to hear him over the music. All I grab is his name—Keith Jordan. Suddenly, it feels like everyone’s attention is drawn to someone walking in. They’re all looking in the same direction. Our dance comes to a halt and I take two steps back from Keith-Charming. And then, I see him. Damien. He’s walking towards me, commanding the attention of everyone. My heart stops, my breath catches in my throat, and for a moment, the world around me fades into the background. All I can see is him stopping in front of me. His eyes rakes over my figure, taking in the dress. A slow smile spreads across his face, and it’s the kind of smile that used to make my knees weak, that made me believe in every lie he ever told. “I knew the dress would look good on you,” he says, his voice low. I freeze, my heart is thumping and it’s only a matter of time before it jumps out of my chest. Damien bought the dress? I glance down at the gown, at the fabric that felt so perfect just moments ago, and suddenly, it feels like a trap. “How…?” I begin, my voice faltering, but he cuts me off, leaning in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “It wasn’t hard to figure out your taste. You always did have impeccable style,” he murmurs, and I can hear the amusement in his voice, the way he relishes in my discomfort. I want to say something, to tell him to leave, to demand answers, but the words stick in my throat, choking me. All I can do is stand there, frozen, as the memories come rushing back, the betrayal, the pain, the years I spent trying to rebuild myself after he tore me apart. And now, here he is, back in my life, back in my world, and all I can think is: Why now?Imogene Scott My breathing is labored. My feet hurt as I turn left, heading out of the front lawn into the streets. All eyes turn to me as I flee. One part of me tells me this isn’t real, that the person I just spoke to isn’t Damien Shaw. As I head into the dimly lit streets, I hear footsteps behind me.Tears start to flow freely as I turn my head. Damien is sprinting after me. My heart races faster, but this time it has nothing to do with exertion, and everything to do with that look of determination on Damien’s face. I continue to walk fast, but rapidly, Damien is gaining on me. I walk for a few more yards, then I realize it’s no use. I don’t know what I’m running from, I don’t know why I’m running. I skid to an halt, finally bringing myself to a complete stop.A moment later, I hear Damien’s hard breath hammering the cool air. I feel him move behind me. Slowly, I spin on my heel and face him. Both hands are in his hair, gripping the strands. His blue eyes are haunted, tort
Damien Shaw. “I fucking hate you and I never wanna see you again. Please Damien, for my sake, stay away from me. Go away and never come back.” I sprint through the darkness of the streets as Imogene’s words circles around and around my mind. I’ve always thought that being away from Imogene for three years was the greatest pain I would ever have to endure. It had changed me, fundamentally changed me. But this ... this... Falling forward, crippled by the pain in my stomach, I roar into the darkness of the empty park. Imogene’s face flashes into my mind’s eye. Her perfect damn face as she stepped into the evening tonight. Her smiling face as she danced with that man I so much despise, and that smile fading from her lips when her eyes found mine. I saw the devastation flash across her face, she hates me that much. I get into my car and drive to a local bar. I just need a drink—no, several drinks—to drown out the thoughts that are eating me alive from the inside out. I head ins
Imogene Scott The next few days are hectic. The gallery opening turned out to be a huge success even after the little ruckus my ex-husband caused. Now, I have to juggle working at the gallery and interviewing the ladies that applied for the role of Lily’s nanny. None of them seem to be trustworthy until I interviewed Breonna Jenkins and she really is a responsible young lady. She just graduated college—so she told me—and is taking a gap year to figure out what she wants. Elinor also likes her so I think it’s only natural that I also like her. Elinor is never wrong. She’s starting today to and as I prepare to leave for the gallery, I hear the door bell buzzing. Perfect timing. I glance at Lily for a second. She’s sitting in her high chair, her tiny hands clutching a spoon as she attempts to scoop up some oatmeal. Her little nose scrunches in concentration, and I can’t help but smile, even as the knot in my stomach tightens. I take a deep breath, smoothing down my skirt as I walk
Imogene Scott “Hi.” I say casually, then turn back around. “I expected more than a ‘hi’.” I don’t respond because I don’t want to. I’m late for work and I don’t think I want to strike up a conversation with this man. Except he thinks this is a reunion and he continues to try to talk to me. “I tried to find you after our dance. But you just disappeared.” I throw him a quick glance, then glance at the elevator’s monitor. The elevator will get to the ground floor in a few seconds. If I can manage to play dumb all through, I might be able to escape this person who’s obviously trying to flirt with me. “I stay in the penthouse by the way.” he says again. I cock my head. Oh, shit. The penthouse is on the highest floor of the building and they say the building owner stays on that floor. Does he perhaps, own the building? I continue not to say a word even though I know this man standing next to me has the power to make me vacate my apartment. “You know, it’s really rude when someone
Imogene Scott My car pulls up in the parking lot. I rush across the lobby, my heart hammering in my chest. All I want to do is see Lily and Breonna isn’t answering her phone either. I can only think of the worst. What if she planned all this with Damien to kidnap Lily? Should I be calling the police? Ding! I arrive on the sixth floor and rush to my door, repeatedly pressing the door bell. After a few seconds which felt like eternity, the door opens and I waltz in. All is normal. Breonna seems a little rattled, Lily is asleep on the couch and I look like a mad woman searching for her lost daughter. My blood runs cold, I need to talk to Breonna. Without saying a word, I gently lift Lily off the couch, then go into my room and place her on the bed. The second I get back into the living room, I start questioning Breonna. “Is your name even Breonna? What more are you lying about?” I try to keep my voice low. She feigns innocence. “I’m not sure what you mean, Mrs Scott.” “I know
Damien Shaw My face pales for a moment. A restraining order against me? Is she listening to herself right now? I try my best not to explode: nothing good ever comes from being angry. “Imogene, you don’t have to do this. We can work this out. We can be a family—” “Just leave, please Damien.” Imogene says under her breath. I exchange a quick glance with Breonna. Imogene is clearly out of depth and now isn’t the right time to argue with her. It’s not going to look good for someone like me who’s trying to win her back. “Fine. I’ll leave.” I say and I turn towards the door. When I get to the threshold, I give her one last look before stepping out into the hallway. I can hear Breonna muttering an apology again as she follows me. “Well, that was a disaster.” Breonna says as we both step into the elevator. “I can’t believe we thought it was gonna work. Now, Imogene hates me even more.” I can’t help but think about how she could’ve figured this out. The only person that comes to mind i
Imogene Scott After Damien leaves, I drop a text for Emmett that I won’t be returning to the gallery for the rest of the day. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to get a new nanny for Lily on short notice. Getting someone like Breonna took me days. Shit! I didn’t know Damien could ever pull such a stunt on me. I hear the doorbell ring. I go and answer it and I can see from the door monitor screen that on one is there. Either way, I open the door and step out. The hallway is empty and there’s a basket of roses at my doorstep with a note in it. Curiosity overrides everything as I bend down to grab the note. It reads: I was wondering if you wanna grab dinner tomorrow night. From your admirer, Keith. His business card is also attached to it. I immediately shrug and drop the note back into the basket. Then I step back inside, leaving the basket of roses outside. I already know it’s the elevator guy, my landlord, which makes it even more weird. Who sends flowers to someone they barely know
Imogene Scott The following night is a Friday night and I’m in my room, getting dressed for something that’s more like a date. I haven’t gone on one since Damien and I got divorced so Elinor is seated at the edge of my bed, judging me with those penetrating eyes of hers. I’m meeting Keith Jordan tonight. More for Elinor’s sake than mine because she kept on insisting after she figured out who Keith is. I’m impressed, although I don’t intend to rely on any man to pay my bills. I had texted Keith earlier this evening and told him to wait in his car in the parking lot for me. I don’t want people from the building to see us together since that’s where the gossip starts. Most of all, this is just a one time thing. Either it goes well or not, I’ll tell Elinor it didn’t and he never wants to see me again and that chapter becomes officially closed. “So, how do I look?” I say, as I turn to face Elinor. I’m standing in front of a mirror in a sleeveless black corset mini dress that stop
Imogene Scott I slept through the night for the first time in weeks. No jolting awake. No sweat-slicked skin. No dreams of drowning in shadows. Just silence. Stillness. Peace.My eyes open slowly, blinking into the quiet morning light spilling through the gauzy white curtains. The ocean breeze flows in from the slightly open window. My head doesn’t feel like it’s been split in two.I pull the blanket down and sit up, cradling my growing belly with both hands. The twins will be here in a few weeks. Two heartbeats fluttering beneath my skin. Two tiny souls I haven't even met, but already love with an intensity that’s terrifying and beautiful all at once.My fingers press gently into the bump. “You two are going to be okay,” I whisper. “We’re all going to be okay.”A soft smile pulls at my lips. It’s real this time. Not the kind I force at dinner tables or mirror reflections. No, this one is real.“What are you smiling about?”Damien’s voice startles me. I look up as he steps into
Damien Shaw The sun spills through the curtains as my eyes flutter open. I groan, registering the soreness in my bones. I rub at my face, letting my hand fall onto the bed beside me…It’s empty.My heart kicks up, a sudden thrum against my ribs.Imogene is not here.The sheets are still warm, faintly scented with her shampoo and her pillow’s half-squashed. She couldn’t have gone far. But still… my throat tightens as I sit up fast, pushing the blanket off. My bare feet hit the cool wood floor and I stand, eyes scanning the quiet bedroom.I don’t call out. Not yet. My gut twists like it always does when she disappears from my line of sight. I step into the hallway, and I’m immediately hit with a warm, sweet and smoky smell.Pancakes?I follow the scent into the kitchen, tension loosening slightly with each step. And then I see her.She’s standing by the stove, her back to me, swaying ever so slightly to some melody in her head. She’s barefoot, in nothing but my oversized black T-shir
Imogene Scott“Mummy, how long are you going to be gone?” Lily’s small voice floats toward me.I pause, my hand hovering over the zipper of my suitcase. The last dress is folded neatly inside and I press it down before turning to face her. She’s standing by the edge of the bed.“Mummy will be back in a few days,” I say gently, kneeling in front of her and smoothing her curls with my palm. She looks at me like she’s studying me, trying to see if I’m telling the truth or just saying what I think she wants to hear.“Will Mummy be better by then?” she asks.My breath catches.Better.I nod, brushing my thumb across her cheek.“Yes, baby. Mummy will be fine.”Lily thinks about that for a second, then smiles. “Yes, then Mummy can go. Anty Kia will take good care of me.”A soft knock sounds on the door just as I press a kiss to Lily’s forehead. Sheila steps in. “Is there anything else you want to take to the water park, Lily?” she says.Before Lily can answer, Kia walks in right behind
Imogene Scott When I open my eyes, it’s dark outside.The ceiling fan spins slowly above me. My body feels warm as I place my palm on my forehead and try to register what time it is on the wall clock across the room. But my vision’s a little blurry and I can’t make out the numbers, so I sit up instead, blinking away the sleep.I swing my legs off the bed and the cold wooden floor kisses my bare feet. I tug Damien’s hoodie tighter around me before padding to the door. I didn’t mean to sleep that long. I was just going to close my eyes for a few minutes.The hallway is dim. I make my way down slowly, hand on the banister. My joints still feel a little stiff from laying in one position for too long.When I reach the last step, I spot him.Damien’s seated at the dining table, one elbow propped up, his head resting in his palm. His hair’s tousled like he’s run his hand through it a hundred times tonight.“Hey there,” I say, softly.His head snaps up.“You’re awake?” His voice is low.
Damien Shaw I help Imogene off the examination table slowly, my hands gripping her waist. She's light and it unsettles me more than I let on. She sits up and swings her legs over the edge, her fingers resting on my forearm to steady herself."I'm okay," she says softly.She’s not. But I nod anyway. We walk out of the room together and back into the office, where Dr. Rogers is typing something into her computer. The click of the keys fills the silence.She looks up and smiles, though there's a trace of something behind her eyes. Concern, maybe. Caution."Everything looks good so far," she says. "But we’re entering the home stretch now. Just a few more weeks. You both need to be careful, especially you, Imogene."Imogene nods politely. “We will.”I thank her and reach for the door handle, ready to leave. I’m already thinking about the drive home, when Dr Rogers calls out to me. “Damien, could I speak to you for a second?”I stop and glance at Imogene.“I’ll wait in the car,” she
Damien Shaw“You worry too much,” she says. “I’m fine.”I don’t believe her. But I let it slide. For now.I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it gently, holding on a little longer. Then I lean back and press on the gas, taking us the rest of the way.We pull into the hospital’s underground lot. I park, unbuckle, and rush around to open her door. She steps out slowly, her hand finding mine. Her fingers are colder than usual.Inside, the halls are clean, overly bright. We walk in silence to Dr. Roger’s office.She’s waiting when we arrive. “Glad to see Damien’s with you today.”I offer a hand. “Nice to see you too, Doctor.”We sit side-by-side, the chairs squeaking slightly beneath us. Imogene sits with perfect posture, her dress flowing around her legs.“So,” Dr. Roger says gently, “how are you feeling about everything?”“I’m fine,” Imogene says with a small smile.Her hand is in mine. I squeeze it.The doctor nods slowly. “Let’s go to the examination room. I want to check on the tw
Damien Shaw Returning to the living room, something feels...off.Imogene’s still sitting at the dining table, arms wrapped tightly around Lily. Her head turns the moment she hears me, and just like that, she lets go.I step closer. “Everything okay?”She lifts her face and gives me a smile. It's warm but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I see it immediately. “Just feeling a little emotional,” she says.I nod slowly. I don’t push, even though every instinct in me is screaming that something’s not right. “Eat up,” I say instead, nodding toward her plate.She nods and picks up her fork. I head to the counter, grab Lily’s pink backpack, and step outside. The spring air hits me as I open the back door of the car and slide Lily’s bag inside. My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it. By the time I’m back inside, Imogene’s finished eating. She wipes her lips gently, her eyes briefly flickering up to meet mine. I offer my hand.“Let’s go,” I say.She places her hand in mine. Lily ski
The last chapter has been edited. Read before you proceed. Imogene Scott Sunlight spills across the bed like golden syrup, warm and soft against my skin. I shift under the sheets, groaning quietly as I feel the heat against my eyelids. I blink once, then again, and finally push myself up on my elbow. Damien stands by the window, arms folded, wearing that smug little smile he always wears when he thinks he’s caught me being adorable. He’s already dressed in a gray fitted T-shirt and black joggers. His hair is damp from a shower, and he looks annoyingly refreshed. “Rise and shine, sweetie.” I groan and drag the covers over my head. “Ugh… it’s too early in the morning.” “It’s almost eleven,” he says with a chuckle. I fling the duvet back just enough to peek at him. “How did I sleep for that long?” He walks over, sits on the edge of the bed, and leans in with a playful glint in his eye. “Because I cuddled you in my arms all night.” I snort. “No. You’re not my sleeping pill.” “S
Imogene Scott As soon as Damien walks out the door, I let out a slow breath. It’s soft, almost soundless, like I’m trying not to break something fragile that still lives inside me. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m what’s fragile now. He really cares about me. I know that. Every word, every touch, every look tonight, he’s trying. He always has. But the truth is, I’m struggling. I don’t know where I’m at anymore. Everything feels fuzzy, like the world has gone slightly out of focus and I’m squinting to make it make sense again. I sit up slowly, brushing my hair back from my face. It’s still damp from the shower earlier, curling at the ends in soft, stubborn waves. I reach for my slippers and slide my feet in. They make a soft shuffling sound against the hardwood as I walk toward the door. It’s just 8 p.m. The hallway is dim and the air smells faintly of pancakes, probably and something else... cinnamon maybe. Damien must’ve added cinnamon. I smile a little at the thought. He always adds t