Layla's pov
The paper in Damian’s hand was just that—a single, ordinary sheet of legal print. Cold. Simple. Straight to the point.
But it changed everything.
He stared at it in silence, standing in the middle of the living room, one hand in his pocket, the other holding the signed and stamped restraining order. I watched him from across the room, my heart heavy and hopeful at the same time.
He didn’t speak for a long time.
I didn’t rush him.
I knew what that paper meant to him.
“It’s done,” he finally said, his voice low and tired. “They can’t come near us again. Neither of them can.”
Alexander and Isabel—. Two names that used to carry so much weight. Two names that had haunted Damian for a long time. But now, the legal system has placed a wall between them.
And maybe, just maybe
