The Line Between Us
1182 Words
Serena’s POV
The night was eerily silent, save for the distant sound of waves crashing against the cliffs beyond the manor. I stood by the large window in the dimly lit guestroom, staring out into the darkness. The air was thick with the scent of salt and damp earth, but my mind was elsewhere.
In the nursery.
With them.
Lucas and Lucy had been fussy all evening, their tiny hands reaching for me whenever I tried to leave. It had taken hours to settle them down, and even then, I wasn’t sure how long they would sleep before waking up and crying for me again.
A soft knock on my door pulled me from my thoughts.
I turned, already knowing who it was before I saw him.
Damien stood in the doorway, his face cast in shadows. Even in the dim light, he looked effortlessly composed—his broad shoulders draped in a crisp black button-down, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His dark hair was slightly tousled, likely from running his fingers through it in frustration.
There was always an edge of exhaustion in his posture these days, but tonight, there was something else.
Resolve.
I straightened, my fingers tightening around the window frame. “What is it?”
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “We need to talk.”
I let out a tired sigh. “That much is obvious.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just stood there, watching me with that unreadable gaze of his. And then, finally, he spoke.
“You need to distance yourself from the twins.”
The words hit me like a physical blow.
I stared at him, unable to believe what I had just heard. “Excuse me?”
His jaw tightened, but his voice remained calm. “They’re becoming too attached to you. And that’s not good for them.”
My heart pounded against my ribs. “Not good for them?” I repeated, incredulous. “They lost their mother, Damien. They lost Eleanor. They need stability. They need someone who—”
“They need to learn to live without you,” he cut in, his voice sharper this time. “Because you won’t be here forever.”
The certainty in his words made my stomach twist.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my emotions in check. “And what makes you think I’m just going to disappear?”
“Because eventually, you’ll leave.” His eyes darkened. “You’ll go back to your life, back to your world. And when you do, it will be harder for them if you’re the one they rely on the most.”
I clenched my fists, feeling a rush of frustration. “I’m not some stranger who will vanish overnight. I’m their aunt.”
“And that’s exactly why you should start putting some space between you and them.”
Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.
I had always known that Damien was a practical man. Ruthless, even. But this?
This felt cruel.
“They cry for me, Damien,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “They reach for me in their sleep. And you want me to just—just turn away from them?”
His expression didn’t waver. “Yes.”
I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m doing what’s best for them,” he said.
“No,” I shot back, my anger bubbling over. “You’re doing what’s easiest for you. You don’t want them to depend on me because it makes things complicated for you. But you’re forgetting one thing.”
His gaze flickered, but he said nothing.
I took a step closer, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.
“They already depend on me,” I said. “Whether you like it or not.”
I didn’t wait for his response. I turned away, my entire body thrumming with emotion.
I didn’t sleep that night.
And the next morning, I did exactly what Damien wanted.
I distanced myself from them.
---
It started with something small.
I didn’t go to them first thing in the morning.
Usually, they would wake up and find me there, waiting to scoop them into my arms and whisper soft words to them. But that morning, I stayed in my room. I told myself it was just one step.
Just a little space.
The wailing started not long after.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay seated on the bed as the sound of their cries echoed through the halls.
“They’ll be fine,” I whispered to myself.
But as the minutes passed, their cries only grew louder. Angrier.
And then came the desperate screams of my name.
My chest ached with every syllable of "Rena! Rena!" that Lucas sobbed.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
I had to do this.
For them.
For Damien.
For myself.
But the day only got worse.
They refused to eat.
The maids tried to feed them, but they only shook their heads, pushing the spoons away with angry little fists.
By the afternoon, the staff was whispering.
By the evening, Damien’s mother was frowning.
By the time night fell, Lucas and Lucy had cried themselves into exhaustion, their tiny faces red and puffy.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
And neither could Damien.
I was standing in the hallway, trying to ignore the way my heart twisted with every muffled sob from the nursery, when I heard heavy footsteps approaching.
I looked up to see Damien striding toward me, his face set in a deep frown.
“This isn’t working,” he said, his voice low and tense.
I exhaled shakily. “I told you.”
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his posture. “I thought they would adjust.”
“They’re just babies,” I whispered. “They don’t understand why I suddenly won’t hold them. They think I’ve abandoned them.”
Damien inhaled sharply, his shoulders rising and falling. And then, without another word, he stepped aside.
It was unspoken.
A silent permission.
I didn’t hesitate.
I rushed past him, pushing open the nursery doors. The moment I entered, two pairs of teary eyes locked onto me.
Lucas let out a broken wail, his little body trembling as he reached for me.
Lucy hiccupped, her chubby arms stretching outward desperately.
I scooped them both into my arms, holding them tight against me. Their sobs quieted almost instantly, their tiny bodies curling into mine like they belonged there.
My heart clenched as I felt their tiny hands gripping onto my shirt, as if afraid I would disappear again.
A heavy presence lingered at the doorway.
I turned my head slightly, meeting Damien’s gaze.
There was something unreadable in his eyes.
Something that made my breath hitch.
But he said nothing.
And neither did I.
Because in that moment, words weren’t needed.
He had wanted me to distance myself from them.
But now, we both knew the truth.
That wasn’t an option anymore.
- Writer
