💫Chapter Six: Damaged People Don’t Get Love
1336 Words
AVA
I didn’t go home that night.
Not really.
Sure, I left the office. My heels clacked down the empty hallway, my breath fogged up in the cool night air, and I made it to my apartment. But my mind? It stayed back there. In that office. Against that wall. In Damien’s arms.
That kiss had undone me.
And the way he walked out right after, cold and clipped, as if nothing had happened? That wrecked me more than I was willing to admit.
I hated him.
But I hated myself more—for letting him touch me, kiss me, awaken something inside me that had been asleep for years.
Saturday passed in a haze of silence and bottled-up feelings. I didn’t answer his calls. I didn’t respond to his texts. By Sunday, I had blocked his number.
And by Monday morning, I was ready to walk into Blackwood Enterprises like none of it had happened.
I wore a black blouse and pencil skirt, hair in a sleek ponytail, lips painted with war-red. Armor.
But the second I stepped off the elevator, Celine was waiting.
“Someone’s trying hard this morning,” she purred, falling into step beside me.
“Go bother someone else, Celine,” I muttered.
“Oh, don’t be like that. Word around the office is that the boss man’s been a little… moody since Friday. That wouldn’t happen to be your fault, would it?”
I stopped walking. “What are you getting at?”
She leaned in close. “Careful, Ava. You may be new here, but you’re already playing a dangerous game. And trust me—when Damien Blackwood breaks someone, he doesn’t pick up the pieces.”
I clenched my jaw. “Noted.”
Celine smirked, turned on her heel, and disappeared into the elevator.
Damien hadn’t arrived yet. That gave me exactly ten minutes of peace.
I stepped into my office and shut the door, breathing deeply. One day, I told myself. One day of silence, of no drama, no—
A knock shattered that fantasy.
I didn’t answer. But the door opened anyway.
Damien.
Of course.
He didn’t say anything for a moment. Just stared at me, tension written all over his face. He looked tired. Unshaven. But no less infuriatingly handsome.
“Ava,” he said softly.
“No.” I held up a hand. “You don’t get to come in here after what you did.”
“I kissed you,” he said. “We both wanted it.”
“You kissed me. Then you told me to go home. Like I was a mistake.”
His jaw flexed. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean, Damien? Because I am done trying to decode your damage.”
He stepped forward. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You already did.”
I moved around my desk and grabbed my bag. “I’m going home.”
“Ava—”
I pushed past him and walked straight into the elevator. He didn’t follow me.
But his silence was louder than any words he could’ve said.
---
DAMIEN
She wasn’t answering her phone.
Again.
I stood in my penthouse apartment, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows as the city buzzed below. All that power. All that control.
And I still couldn’t fix this.
Couldn’t stop wanting her.
Couldn’t stop needing her.
My past was poison. I knew that. I carried it with me like a shadow that never let go.
Isabelle.
Even after all these years, her name still punched holes through my chest. The look in her eyes when she left. The mess I became after.
And now Ava…
I wasn’t ready for someone like her. Someone with fire in her heart and hurt in her eyes. Someone who saw past the money and the arrogance and straight into the broken parts of me I never let anyone touch.
She didn’t deserve the storm I came with.
But I couldn’t let her go.
---
AVA
I stayed home for two days.
Called in sick. Turned off my phone.
I cooked soup I didn’t eat. Watched old movies I didn’t remember. Cried more than I wanted to admit.
And on the third day, I showed up at work again—determined not to care.
But as soon as I stepped into the building, I was summoned to the top floor.
Damien’s office.
Great.
I considered ignoring it. But I was already halfway across the lobby when one of the senior assistants gave me a nervous glance and said, “He’s… not in the mood to wait today.”
Figures.
I took the elevator up. Each ding made my stomach twist tighter.
His assistant waved me in without a word.
The moment I stepped inside, he stood up.
“You’re here,” he said.
I folded my arms. “Barely.”
He walked around the desk slowly. “I want to explain.”
“I don’t need you to.”
“You deserve to know why I left like that.”
I swallowed. “Because I scare you.”
He blinked. “No. Because I scare me.”
That made me pause.
He sat on the edge of the desk. “There are things about my past you don’t know, Ava. Things I’ve kept buried.”
“Like Isabelle?”
His head shot up.
I continued. “Celine told me. Bits and pieces. Enough to know she mattered to you.”
“She did,” he said quietly. “But not the way you think.”
I waited.
“She was… kind. Sweet. But I never gave her the version of me she deserved. I let my temper get the best of me. I let the pressure of business, family, and guilt turn me into something cold. And by the time I realized what I was doing, it was too late.”
“You think you ruined her?”
“I know I did.”
The weight of his words settled between us.
“And now you think the same will happen with me,” I said.
“I’m not made for normal, Ava. I’m not good at softness. Or love. I don’t know how to do this without breaking things.”
I walked toward him slowly. “Then maybe… stop pretending you don’t want it.”
He looked at me like I was sunlight. Like I burned his skin, and he didn’t care.
“I want you,” he said, voice raw. “But I also want to protect you from me.”
I stood in front of him, just inches away. “Maybe I don’t need protecting. Maybe I just need the truth.”
He hesitated. Then nodded once.
“I’ll give you that,” he said. “All of it.”
---
Later That Night
He took me to his apartment.
The top floor of a high-rise in Tribeca. Sleek. Expensive. But not as cold as I expected.
We didn’t kiss. We didn’t touch.
We talked.
He told me about his parents. How his father tried to turn him into a machine. How his mother was a ghost — present in body but never in soul.
He told me about Isabelle. How they were young. How she loved him more than he could return. How he crushed her spirit without meaning to.
“I learned to control everything,” he said. “But not the damage I cause.”
“And now?”
He looked at me.
“I want to be better. For you.”
---
DAMIEN
She fell asleep on my couch.
Soft breathing. Tucked under my blanket. Like she belonged there.
And for the first time in years, I didn’t feel haunted.
I felt… human.
But I knew this wouldn’t last forever.
Damaged people don’t get love.
They get war.
And I had a feeling my past was about to catch up with me — faster than either of us was ready for.
---
- Writer
