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878 Words
CHAPTER 34 — SILENCE AND SORROW
The penthouse felt colder than usual.
Sienna sat in the library, shoulders stiff, fingers curled around a glass of wine she barely tasted. The soft glow of the fireplace didn’t comfort her tonight. Nothing could.
Damien hadn’t said a word to her since the dinner.
Not one word.
And the silence wasn’t the gentle, comfortable silence they sometimes shared. This was deliberate. Punishing. Like every breath he took in the same house as her reminded her he could ignore her completely without remorse.
She didn’t want to cry.
She refused to.
But the ache in her chest was relentless, and every tick of the clock felt like a drum pounding in her ears: He let them hurt you. He let them say what they wanted. And he didn’t care enough to stop it.
Her hands shook slightly, and she gripped the edge of the armchair to steady herself.
Damien stood in the doorway, as if appearing silently were somehow less dangerous than speaking.
“Can I… come in?” His voice was low, cautious. Tentative.
Sienna didn’t respond.
Her eyes didn’t even lift from the fire.
He stepped closer, each footfall deliberate. The tension between them was electric, suffocating. Damien’s black shirt clung to him perfectly, the sleeves rolled to reveal forearms sculpted like marble. He looked… impossible.
But she didn’t care about impossible tonight.
She cared about him failing her when it mattered.
“I… about tonight,” he started, voice hesitant.
Sienna’s jaw tightened. She didn’t want to hear it.
“Don’t,” she murmured, almost under her breath.
Her tone was sharp, controlled, cold.
Damien froze, hurt flickering in his dark eyes. “Sienna—”
“Don’t, Damien,” she repeated, louder this time.
“I don’t want your excuses. I don’t want your regrets. I just…” Her voice cracked slightly, and she swallowed hard.
“I just want you to care enough to fight for me. And you didn’t. Not tonight. Not ever.”
The words hung between them, heavy and suffocating.
Damien’s jaw tensed. He ran a hand down his face, exhaling slowly.
“I… I know I should have said something.”
“You should have,” she spat, then immediately felt the bitterness in her tone. She hated herself for the way her hands trembled.
“But you didn’t. And now? Now I don’t know if you ever will.”
He stepped closer, dangerously close now. The space between them charged with unspoken desire and fury.
“I didn’t want them to see me lose control,” Damien admitted. His voice was low, strained.
“I didn’t want them to see how much you mean to me. I… I didn’t know how to handle it.”
Sienna finally lifted her eyes to his.
Dark. Intense. Vulnerable. Broken.
“And you think that makes it better?” she asked softly, almost bitterly.
“No. It makes it worse.”
Damien swallowed. His hands twitched at his sides as if he wanted to reach out but couldn’t.
“I—” he began, but she interrupted.
“No,” she said firmly. “I can’t do this, Damien. Not like this. You can’t just… exist in the same space as me and pretend everything’s fine. You can’t just stand there and look perfect while everyone else judges me, while I feel like I’m crumbling inside. You can’t.”
Her voice was raw. Vulnerable. Painful.
Damien’s eyes darkened with something fierce—regret, anger, and… need. The need was sharp, almost violent.
“I can’t lose you,” he said, voice breaking slightly.
“You don’t get to just walk away. Not from me. Not like this.”
Sienna’s heart clenched. She wanted to scream at him, cry, run, and pull him close all at once.
“I’m not walking away,” she whispered, “I’m just… not here for you when you refuse to fight for me. Not yet.”
The words were like a knife to him. Damien’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he fought to control the storm inside. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to pull her into his arms and never let go.
But she was untouchable tonight. Untouchable in anger, in hurt, in pride.
The silence stretched. Thick. Heavy.
Finally, Damien took a step back, his dark eyes never leaving hers.
“I’ll… wait. But I can’t promise I’ll stay quiet forever.”
Sienna let out a shaky breath.
“Good. Because I’m not going to beg for your attention, Damien. Not ever.”
And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving him in the library, standing in the shadows, his jaw tight, hands clenched, desperate to reach for her but unable to cross the distance.
That night, neither of them slept.
Sienna stayed in her room, staring at the ceiling, replaying the dinner, replaying his silence, replaying his words—or lack thereof.
Damien sat in his office, staring at the skyline, fingers drumming against the desk. Every glance he’d given Sienna tonight, every word left unsaid, every moment of hesitation—they haunted him.
And one thought repeated itself in his mind, sharper than any blade:
I can’t lose her. Not like this. Not ever.
- Writer
