All Chapters of He Hurt Me, Now He Wants Me Back: Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

Imogene Scott The morning air is cold as I stand in the driveway. “Breonna, hurry up!” I call toward the house.The front door creaks open, and Breonna steps out with a small suitcase in her hand. Her hair is pulled back into a messy bun. She looks…ready. Ready to leave. “This is the last one,” she says with a grin, dragging the suitcase toward the car. I smile back. “You sure you haven’t hidden another bag in there somewhere?” She laughs and hoists the suitcase into the trunk, where three more are already loaded.“You guys really don’t have to see me all the way to the airport,” Breonna says, turning toward me. “Who says we don’t have to?” Damien’s voice cuts in from behind us. I turn to see him walking across the lawn, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. “You deserve this much,” he says, gently taking Breonna’s hand for a moment before letting it go. Breonna looks down, blinking rapidly, but says nothing. Damien strides over to his car, unlocking it wit

Imogene Scott It’s been over two weeks since Breonna’s left and things still aren’t back to normal yet. I still sometimes forget she’s gone and Damien has been trying his best to be “my Breonna.” He’s been doing a pretty terrible job though. Literally nobody can replace Breonna. I’ve managed to FaceTime with her at least ten times in the last two weeks and Damien says he’s worried about me. He thinks I’m obsessed and I should really find a new hobby.There’s less work load at the gallery for now because of the new curator I hired. Sheila Walsh. She’s part timing for now until she finally gets the scholarship she applied for. So technically, she’s also going to leave eventually. I’m trying my best not to bond with her.On the other hand, we’ve had three doctor’s appointments so far and yes, the twins are healthy. But even the doctor wants me to pick up a stress free hobby. Something that helps me clear my mind at the end of the day. Damien thinks country club is the solution so

Damien Shaw With Breonna gone and everything, Imogene has been a…lot. Still, I’m glad she’s at least trying out this country club thing, even if it’s just to humor me. Honestly, though? I’m mostly in favor because of the uniform. God bless whoever designed it.After drying off, I pull on a pair of shorts and a plain white T-shirt. I rake my fingers through my damp hair, staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror for a moment. My jaw looks tighter than usual. Stress, no doubt. The situation at the office has been eating at me. A senior executive, Alan Walker, someone I trusted was bribed by a rival to leak information about Edge-N, our newest tech. It hasn’t exploded yet, but the fallout is inevitable if I don’t get ahead of it. Pushing the thoughts aside, I head downstairs. The house is quiet except for the faint clatter of dishes coming from the kitchen. The scent of roasted chicken and herbs wafts through the air, drawing me toward the dining room. Imogene is there, se

Damien Shaw I don’t thing I’ve ever had such a shitty day in a while. It’s driving me crazy.I lean back in my chair, my eyes fixed on the ceiling. The day has been a complete disaster. The product launch—the one project we’ve poured millions into, the one that was supposed to solidify IMU’s dominance in the market—has backfired. Financial losses looming. My head pounds, and I rub my temples, trying to stave off the dull ache that’s been building since morning. The faint sound of heels clicking against the polished floor outside pulls me back. Kia steps in. She’s been working with me for months already and she’s been doing her job so diligently. She holds a tablet in one hand and a folder in the other. “The investors are all in the boardroom,” she says.I sit up straight, narrowing my eyes. “I didn’t call any meeting.” “They did,” she says, shifting her weight slightly. “It looks like they’ve been talking to each other behind the scenes.” A wave of frustration washes

Imogene Scott The next day, I meet Dad at the cafe again. I just hope he shows up this time. I push open the door to the café. I pause just inside, glancing around the cozy space. Dad is already seated at his usual table by the window. I sigh, he really showed up. Early, at that.He’s reading the newspaper, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. For a moment, I study him from a distance—the way he’s dressed impeccably in a dark suit, his hair silver but neatly combed, his posture as straight as ever. The last time I saw him was at the wedding in Hong Kong. I only told him about the twins on the phone.I take a deep breath and walk over, my boots clicking softly against the floor. "Morning, Dad," I say, sliding into the chair across from him. He looks up. "Imogene," he folds the newspaper and settles it aside. "You’re glowing. How are the twins treating you today?" I chuckle lightly, resting my hands on the table. "They’re active, as usual. I feel like I’m carrying a pair