Carol gently pressed her lips on his forehead before she left for her trip. She was confused by his sudden action last night but it felt nice to see his old self. The travel to Australia wasn't great since she had a very rough time around. Probably because of her treatment and medication, her body keeps burning. The first day was on working there, having meetings, visiting companies and factories. The three days' work she completed within a day because she wanted to leave as soon as possible. Next day, Right now, she just finished a meeting with her clients who are very satisfied with her performance. Of course, it's not like she didn't feel questioned on her disabilities. But everyone is supportive and surprisingly friendly. Right now, sitting outside a café, sipping her coffee, she watches the calm surroundings of the café. The vibe of the Sydney makes her feel better. A way to escape from the world she just belonged two days ago. As she keeps enjoying her morning, h
**Carol!** Brianna stops her, realizing she has done something she can’t ask forgiveness for. It’s only a matter of time before loyalty is tested. Standing before Alex and Brianna, who have always been there, Carol realizes one thing — they are indeed the family of her grandparents. **It’s not what I meant! I know you’re busy with life, and whatever happened to our family was brought upon us by our own stupidity,** Brianna says, looking extremely guilty. Carol, as usual, wears that mask of indifference. Maybe it’s time to get away from everyone. **Sis is right! We are grateful for everything. It’s just that the family has been—** Carol stops them by raising her hand. **It doesn’t matter to me.** She smiles, but it’s not a genuine smile. **The day you refused to tell me the truth about my past, I knew you were protecting something big from me. I don’t know what it is, but you clearly chose your family over me. And I’m not upset about it.** She signs matter-of-factly. There are pl
“What’s this supposed to be meant?” Mr. Crawley asks coldly, his eyes narrowing as Damien meets his gaze with an equally frosty, unreadable expression.Damien’s lips curl into a mocking smirk. “What do you mean?” His voice drips with derision. “Aren’t you happy to see me out of the coma? Or do you think I’m disposable now that I’m not useful to you anymore?”The Crawleys stare at Damien as if they’re seeing a ghost. Their eyes are fixed on his legs, which he deliberately shakes in a relaxed, almost arrogant way. The subtle movement is enough to shatter their composure.“Since when can you walk?” Mrs. Crawley’s voice trembles, her face drained of color.“Oh, this?” Damien grins, spreading his arms theatrically. “Since high school.”“What?” Everyone gasps, the air in the room turning cold. Mr. Crawley’s face twists with fury.“You were fine all along! Why did you lie to us?” he demands, his voice rising.Damien shrugs, his eyes glinting with a dark amusement. “Well, it was so much more
** Congratulations on the collaboration! We are looking forward to working with you and your company!** Carol shakes her hands with the Boss of the Australian company. She smiles with gratitude and nods before noticing her phone buzzing. She ignores it at first and quickly tells her team to wrap things up, so that they can join another meeting with another company. However when the phone keeps buzzing, she walks towards the lounge and opens her phone to check. Her eyebrows raise with surprise and panic when she reads the messages, " Damien isn't at the hospital. Nobody knows where he is!" Realizing something isn't clearly okay, she tries to message James back who sounds frantic through his message. But her eyebrows knit, when she notices a figure standing outside the company, against the car. At first she thinks she is misunderstanding someone else. She has been working nonstop. Maybe it's taking a toll. Because of her mental situation, she told Brianna that she wouldn't be
Carol enters her room with food and medicine. She doesn't know if Damien brought his medicine or not, but having extra won't hurt her. She has already informed James about Damien's reckless movements. Obviously, it made him pissed, but he couldn't be disappointed. Damien is reckless when it comes to his own decisions, so it's not surprising. As she walks in, her attention goes to Damien, who is sleeping, resting his hand on his forehead. She walks quietly, placing everything on the table. She stands next to the bed, watching his calm, peaceful, but exhausted face. Her hand slowly moves to his face, gently touching his jawline. Her eyes burn with tears. She smiles a bit, sitting on the edge of the bed, admiring the man she loves so much. Later, she sits properly, her eyes on the floor, as if the floor can comfort her. But soon she breaks down, feeling the weight of exhaustion and heartbreak bearing down on her shoulders. It feels as though carrying the pain is heavier than an
Damien rushes into the cramped washroom as two women gesture frantically for him to hurry. Carol, who had been holding herself together with sheer will, seems to have unraveled entirely. Curled into a tight ball in the corner, she is trembling, her breathing erratic. Her wide, glassy eyes stare ahead, unfocused. Her body language speaks of defeat and desperation, yet her lips remain tightly shut, as if she’s suppressing a scream. Damien’s heart clenches painfully. “Please move aside!” he commands, his voice sharp with urgency. “I’m her husband!” He kneels before Carol, lowering himself to her level, trying to catch her gaze. Gently, he cups her face in his hands. “**Carol! Look at me. It’s alright. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.**” His tone softens, his voice trembling with emotion. For a moment, her dull, tear-filled eyes meet his. The pain in them is unbearable, almost physical, and it hits him like a blow to the chest. Without another word, Damien carefully gathers
"Each and every single thing, I want you to investigate. There is no way I will let this go so easily. Not even my family." Carol's eyebrows knit as her hands reach her ear. She hears something—some noises. She shifts her attention to the man standing next to her, his phone pressed against his ear, his broad shoulders blocking the light. "Damien?" She extends her hand to reach him. But she flinches when Damien turns to her. His red-rimmed eyes, his unbuttoned shirt revealing his chest, and the watch she gave him—all show him off as possibly the most rugged yet exhausted man ever. "I am telling you, James. This time, I don’t mind crossing lines. I will destroy the Crawley family if needed!" Carol’s eyes widen in shock and disbelief. She touches her ears and then looks at Damien, who is talking to James quite aggressively. "Da-Damien!" She moves her lips, trying to make a sound. As expected, she can hear her own voice. It’s hoarse and painful, but she can use her throat. Dam
As he said, he stays here with her, sleeping on the couch. Carol turns, facing him, staring at him. Her gaze is like a lonely moon shining in the sky all alone. She slowly removes the blanket from herself and gets off the bed. Tiptoeing, she walks toward him. Crouching down, she smiles, observing his calm and peaceful sleeping face. The wound is still there, bandaged perfectly. Her hand reaches his face, trying not to wake him up. "How could you forget about me, of all people? Why me, Damien?" she mutters. "I thought we were in love. People actually forget about those things that distress them. Did I make you distressed too?" She sighs deeply and sits on the floor. Hugging her knees, she keeps speaking. The subtle pain in her throat doesn't stop her from talking. Her years of thoughts, wishes, and complaints—she is blurting everything out as soon as she realizes that she can talk. "You have such a beautiful voice, Damien! I am thankful that I can finally hear everything. I c
It’s late evening, and the house is quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioner. Everyone left except Carol. She just put Aria in her bed after a long day. Carol is curled up on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone, catching up on the day’s events. The soft glow from the screen lights up her face, and she can’t help but smile as she reads a message from her best friend, Eunice. After what felt like a long stretch of tension and uncertainty, Eunice and James have decided to try again—James is back, and it seems like they’re working things out. Carol’s heart swells with happiness for her friend. Just as she leans back, stretching her legs on the couch, the front door opens, and Damien walks in. His shoulders are hunched, his tie slightly loosened, and he looks exhausted. The stress from his day is evident, and he doesn’t even bother to take off his shoes before walking towards the living room. Carol raises an eyebrow, putting her phone down and watching
Aria sits quietly on the couch, her little body curled up into a ball, her plush carrot tightly held against her chest. Her small face is scrunched up, a mixture of confusion and sadness overtaking her usual lively demeanor. She can’t stop thinking about what happened with Julian earlier, and it's hurting her innocence heart more than she’s willing to admit. She is confused why Julian wants to play with someone else when she is playing with him. Damien, noticing his daughter’s silence, looks over at her from the kitchen, where he’s sipping his coffee. His heart clenches at the sight of her pouting face. Aria usually bounces around the house with boundless energy, but today, she’s a shell of her usual self. He places the mug down on the counter and walks over to her. “Hey, kiddo,” he says softly, sitting beside her on the couch. He gently pulls her onto his lap, his big hands rubbing circles on her back as he tries to comfort her. “What’s wrong, princess? Why the long face?” Aria d
The apartment is filled with the sound of the faint rustling of clothes and the occasional thud of a box being moved around. It’s quiet in a way that feels almost suffocating, the air thick with the unspoken tension that has been building for weeks. Since James hasn't been in his company, I couldn't ignore the situation. He wants to stay a few days to travel around the city. However, he has been getting lots of calls from his assistant. I can't let him slack off all day like a lazy ass. I sit cross-legged on the bed, staring at the half-packed suitcase in front of me, my fingers mindlessly folding the clothes I’ve laid out. My thoughts are a jumbled mess, as usual, filled with a thousand things—mostly about what’s coming next, about leaving and starting over, about the future that feels uncertain. But there’s one constant. One person. James. I can feel him watching me from across the room, where he’s leaned lazily against the dresser, arms crossed, his gaze locked onto me
Although I couldn't secure a position in the American branch of my company, for our best interests, James has asked me to work for him in his company. Although it's a new company, Damien has been helping him with lots of projects. We will leave soon. I have resigned my position. The bar is alive with music, the low hum of conversations, and the occasional burst of laughter as glasses clink together in celebration. The air is thick with the scent of alcohol, fried food, and something bittersweet that lingers beneath it all—farewells. My farewell. I should be celebrating. This is my night, after all. A send-off from colleagues who’ve become friends, from a place that’s been my home for years. A place I fought to leave, worked tirelessly to outgrow. But as I sit at the bar, nursing my fourth—or maybe fifth?—drink, there’s a hollow feeling settling deep inside me, like something slipping through my fingers no matter how tightly I try to hold on. Maybe because I acknowledged th
The apartment is unbearably quiet. I sit curled up on the couch, knees drawn to my chest, staring blankly at the dark ceiling. The only sound is the faint hum of the refrigerator, but even that feels distant—like the world outside this room no longer exists. James’s message from last night is still on my phone, the words burning into my mind. "Staying at a hotel tonight. Don’t wait up."He didn’t call. Didn’t ask to talk. Didn’t even ask why. I clutch the blanket around me, my fingers tightening in the fabric. The weight in my chest is suffocating, pressing down like a stone. Sleep never came, only hours of staring at the walls, thinking about the moment he found that ticket—how his expression darkened, how he left without another word. He knows. And I hurt him. The sky outside turns from black to gray, signaling morning, but it doesn’t bring relief. The ache in my chest only deepens. I can’t sit in this silence any longer. My hands tremble as I pick up my phone and d
Eunice, The morning sunlight drapes across the living room, casting a golden warmth over the space. Everything feels too still, too peaceful, as if the world itself is oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. James moves around the kitchen with ease, sleeves rolled up, flipping pancakes like it’s second nature. I watch him, mesmerized by the way he hums under his breath, his presence so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. It should be comforting—this domesticity, this quiet moment between us. But instead, my chest tightens, because I know that soon, everything will change. Since we have returned home, I have been fighting with myself for a decision that I thought was simple a month ago. However, his appearance, me falling in love with him again made that simple decision one of the hardest decisions ever. I haven’t told him yet. “You’re staring,” James teases, his voice smooth, pulling me out of my thoughts. He glances over his shoulder, flashing that boyish grin that u
With a long-suffering sigh, he nods. “Fine. I promise.” Aria beams, hugging him tightly. “Yay! My Julie forever!” Irene smirks, crossing her arms. “We’ll see about that.” Julian groans, rubbing his temples as Aria and Irene continue their tug-of-war over him. He has had enough. “Can you both just stop?!” He snaps finally, his patience finally breaking and wearing off. Especially to Aria who is clinging onto him like a slime. Silence falls. Aria blinks, her grip on his shirt loosening. “J-Julie…?” Her voice is small, uncertain. Julian exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Irene, you always mess with me and now her, and Aria, you act like a spoiled kid whenever I talk to anyone else!” His voice is firm, frustrated. “I can be friends with other people! You don’t own me, Aria!” His sharp cold eyes shudders Aria who looks confused with Julian's cold and indifferent gaze. The room suddenly feels too quiet. Aria’s fingers tremble as she stares at him,
Julian narrows his eyes before walking towards the door, " What's their name!?" He asks. " Julie! You got friends. What about me?" She follows him hugging her plush. " I don't know her name but she is here to play with you!" Julian walks downstairs while Aria skips the staircases one after one. " Why do you have friends? I don't have friends. I want to be friends with your friend!" She keeps whining while running towards Julian. " Hi! Julian!" A girl wearing a beautiful dress shyly waves her hand. " I am here to play." " Irene! Why are you here?" Julian asks, frowning a bit. " To play -!" Julian barely takes two steps forward before Aria latches onto his arm, her plush carrot squeezed against her chest like a battle shield. Her big, round eyes lock onto the girl standing before them, her lips pursed in a deep frown. Irene blinks, then smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Is this your little sister, Julian?” Aria gasps dramatically, releasing Julian just to s
Two days ago, Julian told her that he hated her for touching his homework. Now she is yet to get over from that shock. Julian barely stirs under the warmth of his blanket, his face half-buried in his pillow. The room is quiet except for the faint rustling of fabric as he tries to sink deeper into sleep. But Aria stands frozen at his bedside, her tiny fists clenched, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "He said he hates me…" Her lips tremble, but not from sadness—from determination. She knows Julian better than anyone. He can say all he wants, but the moment she starts crying, he’ll melt like an ice cream cone in the sun. Taking a deep breath, she clenches her plush carrot and prepares for battle. She sniffs. Loudly. A little whimper escapes her lips, followed by another dramatic sniff. Then, with precise control, her lower lip wobbles as she blinks rapidly, allowing fat, glistening tears to pool in her big eyes. Julian shifts slightly under the blanket. She s