All Chapters of You're mine: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

On one hand, I can't wait to see my family, but on the other hand, I'm not so eager to see my relatives. I guess everyone has those few aunts and uncles who are concerned about anything other than their own lives. Well, those relatives focus a lot on my life, especially since I'm the most outspoken member of the family. "Outspoken" in their vocabulary means that I don't accept all the nonsense they say, but also that I strongly support my point of view. Honestly, I can't wait for these few days to pass. I can already imagine what it will be like when they see Damon; Dad won't stand him because he only tolerates those drunk idiots from the village who work in construction or steal. My brother will be neutral because he's the type who gets along with everyone. Grandma will love him, I know that because she always wanted me to have a serious boyfriend who dresses in a suit. Dressing in a suit was among her standards when she married my late grandfather. The car we're in attrac

-Happy birthday, I warmly say to the woman who took care to make sure I lacked nothing even though she had no obligation.-I'm old, I don't think I should celebrate anything anymore. Maybe I'll die tomorrow, she says.-You're talking nonsense, I joke, managing to bring a smile to her face. Deep down, I'm afraid of the day when she won't be here anymore. I know I'll blame myself to the core for not spending enough time with her, but I can't split myself. Thank goodness for my brother who is always here, otherwise, I'd feel terrible knowing that his grandchildren aren't around him, for whom he dedicated his life. I notice her smile widen even more on her face, wrinkled with age. I turn to where her gaze settles and see Damon.-Excuse me for interrupting, but I'd like to talk to Elenor. I hope it doesn't bother you, he says.-It doesn't bother me, young man. I'll leave you to talk to Elena. After my grandma leaves to talk to her daughter, I turn my attention to Damon, who seems to have c

From Damon’s perspective: In the morning, I am awakened by the noise in the room; I partially open my eyes to see what's going on. My girlfriend was dragging a suitcase larger than her towards the door.-What are you doing?-I'm packing, what does it look like I'm doing?-Where are we going? I ask curiously.-You're not going anywhere. I am.-I'm not going anywhere without you.-Damon, you can't stay here for another week.-Why?-Just yesterday, you got drunk and got into a fight at the club.-So what?-You're attracting too much attention. Plus, I'll be back in a week.-I'm not even thinking about it, I say firmly.-Come on, Damon, she says, hanging onto my neck with her hands. God! This woman drives me crazy. I want to be serious and stick to my point of view, but how can I be serious when I think about how to get her to stay here?-Tell the truth! Why do you want to leave?-The neighbors keep talking, and I don't want any misunderstandings.-Misunderstandings? I ask nervousl

From Damon’s perspective: I finish checking the incorporation documents for the club I want to open earlier than expected. I left Elenor with the assistant, planning to occupy my free hour. Now that I'm done, I call the assistant to discuss with her. She knocks on the door and enters, sitting slowly on the chair in front of my desk. She clasps her hands in her lap, visibly stressed, and bows her head.-Why didn't you tell me she lost her memory?" I ask calmly, trying to hide the desire to put a bullet in her head.-I really tried, but you didn't wait for me to tell you, she rushes to say.-So, I understand it's my fault that you're an idiot.-No, sir, she hurriedly replies. I settle more comfortably in my chair and run my hand through my hair nervously.-How did she lose her memory? Did the gunshot affect her that badly?-Sir, she suffered a head injury, but not from the bullet, but from the impact with the floor.-How long will it take for her to recover?-About two weeks.

I enjoyed having my family around me these days, but somehow I felt like I didn't have enough space. Every time something happened between me and Damon, someone would interrupt us. Plus, Damon's overly caring behavior didn't help at all. Sorry, caring isn't the right word, I don't know if there's a good word to define someone who keeps nagging me, "you can cut the apple yourself," "can you go downstairs?" It's been driving me crazy these days. Even the doctor said I'm fine and out of danger, yet he still exaggerates. And I know every woman would want that, but it's already too much. He wanted to install an elevator so I wouldn't have to go downstairs to the living room anymore. I feel my nerves getting on edge as I write more in my journal, so I decide to put it on the nightstand next to the bed. The phone starts ringing. I look around and finally find it. It was a number not saved in my contacts, so I answer.-Hello! Good day! Is Miss Elenor Rossi on the line?-Yes. Thi