Chapter 6 : Family
661 Words
Damien was kissing my neck when my phone rang.
Mom.
He didn’t stop. His hand slid under my shirt.
"Answer it," he whispered against my skin.
"I can’t—"
"Answer it, good girl."
I picked up. Voice shaking. "Hi Mom?"
"Hey baby. Ethan called us."
My blood went cold.
Damien’s fingers froze. Then kept going. Slower.
"What did he say?" I asked.
"That you’re seeing someone. That it’s serious." Mom paused. "Is it Damien, Lena?"
Damien heard his name. He smirked. Pulled my shirt up.
I covered the phone. "Don’t—"
"Yes it is," I whispered into the phone.
"Oh honey." Mom sighed. "Can we come over? Tonight? Both of us?"
Damien’s mouth was on my collarbone now.
"Yeah," I said. "Tonight."
"7pm. Love you."
She hung up.
Damien took the phone from me. Tossed it.
"Family dinner," he said. "Fun."
"Damien this is serious—"
"I know." He lifted me. Carried me to bed. "That’s why I’m not letting you panic alone."
---
6:55pm. My parents and Ethan were on my porch.
Damien answered the door before I could.
Shirt on. For once. Arms crossed.
"Mr. and Mrs. Carter. Ethan."
My dad looked pissed. Mom looked sad. Ethan looked dead inside.
"Where’s Lena?" Dad asked.
"Here." I stepped out from behind Damien.
We sat in my living room. Tense.
Dad spoke first. "Is this true?"
"Yes," I said.
"With him?" He pointed at Damien. "Ethan’s brother?"
"Yes."
Ethan laughed. Bitter. "Told you."
"Shut up," Damien said. Calm. "This isn’t about you."
"The hell it isn’t! That’s my ex!"
"Ex," Damien emphasized. "Past tense."
Mom started crying. "Lena, honey, we just want you to be happy. But this... it’s messy."
"I am happy," I said. And I meant it.
Damien took my hand. Squeezed.
Dad stood up. "We’re not okay with this. You’re making a mistake."
"Then let me make it," I said.
The room went silent.
Damien stood too. "They’re adults. If you’re done yelling, you can leave."
"Don’t talk to me like that in my daughter’s house."
"It’s her house," Damien said. "And she chose me."
Dad looked at me. Waiting.
I nodded.
They left. All of them.
Ethan slammed the door.
---
I broke down the second they were gone.
Damien pulled me to him. No words. Just held me.
"Did I do the right thing?" I cried.
"Yes," he said into my hair. "You chose you."
"They hate me."
"They don’t hate you. They hate that they can’t control you."
He carried me to the bedroom.
Laid me down.
"I need you," I whispered.
"I know."
This time it wasn’t rough.
It was slow. Gentle. Like he was trying to wash the hurt away.
He kissed every tear. Every inch of me.
"Look at me," he said.
"I am."
"I’ve got you. No matter what they say. You’re mine."
"I’m yours," I sobbed.
He made love to me until I stopped shaking.
Until the only name I knew was his.
After, he wrapped me in blankets.
"They’ll come around," he said.
"And if they don’t?"
"Then it’s just us." He kissed my forehead. "That’s enough."
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number: _You’re dead to us._
Damien saw it. Deleted it. Blocked it.
"No one gets to talk to you like that," he said. Voice steel.
He stayed the whole night.
Held me.
At 5am I woke up to him watching me.
"Morning, good girl," he said.
"Morning."
"You did good yesterday."
"Did I?"
"Yeah. You chose me." He smiled. "Proud of you."
---
That afternoon Ethan texted me: _I’m sorry. Can we talk?_
I didn’t answer.
Damien saw.
"Block him too," he said.
"I can’t."
"You can." He took my phone. Did it.
"Damien—"
"He doesn’t get access to you anymore. Not his words. Not his guilt."
He was right.
That night he cooked me dinner.
Fed me off his plate.
"My good girl," he said. "See? Nothing bad happened."
I believed him.
- Writer
