Chapter 7:Damien Home, At Last
1650 Words
The reception ended long after midnight.
One by one, the guests departed.
The music faded.
The laughter disappeared into the night.
The photographers packed away their cameras.
The ballroom that had sparkled with hundreds of people slowly fell quiet.
Damian stood beside the car as one of his men opened the rear door.
He looked toward Skylar.
“Ready?”
Skylar nodded once.
A tiny movement.
Almost hesitant.
He climbed into the car without a word.
Damian followed.
The door closed behind them.
Silence.
Only the gentle hum of the engine accompanied the drive home.
Damian didn’t mind silence.
He had lived with it most of his life.
But tonight…
It felt different.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Skylar sitting as close to the window as possible.
His hands rested neatly in his lap.
Or…
They tried to.
Every few seconds, his fingers twisted together.
Then released.
Then twisted again.
His wedding band caught the passing streetlights as he absentmindedly turned it around his finger.
Nervous.
Very nervous.
Damian almost smiled.
Still.
Seven years.
Seven whole years.
And Skylar was still frightened of him.
His thoughts drifted backwards.
As children, every visit to the Castillo estate had ended exactly the same way.
He would step out of the car…
And somewhere in the gardens…
A little boy with long, messy hair would freeze.
Their eyes would meet.
Then—
The little boy would turn around and run as fast as his tiny legs could carry him.
Usually toward his mother.
Sometimes behind a servant.
Once…
Into a flower bush.
Damian had spent the next ten minutes pretending not to notice two little amber eyes peeking out through the roses.
The memory almost made him laugh.
You really thought I couldn’t see you.
He never understood it.
He had never chased Skylar.
Never teased him.
Never frightened him on purpose.
He had simply…
Watched him.
Perhaps too quietly.
Perhaps too intensely.
And somehow…
That had been enough.
Now, the same little boy sat beside him.
Only taller.
Older.
Far more beautiful than Damian had imagined.
Yet…
Still nervously avoiding his eyes.
Damian looked out of the window instead.
He decided not to make conversation.
If silence helped Skylar feel safer…
Then silence it would be.
⸻
An hour later, the gates of the Laurent estate slowly opened.
Skylar finally looked up.
His eyes widened.
Damian noticed immediately.
The estate stretched across acres of perfectly landscaped gardens. Elegant fountains shimmered beneath soft lights, winding stone paths disappeared into flowering hedges, and the grand manor stood proudly at the centre, its warm golden windows glowing against the dark sky.
It looked less like a fortress…
And more like a palace someone had accidentally made into a home.
Skylar stared openly.
For a moment…
His fear lost to simple amazement.
Damian found himself unexpectedly pleased.
The car stopped.
One of the butlers opened Skylar’s door.
“Welcome home, Sir.”
Skylar blinked.
Home.
The word clearly caught him off guard.
He stepped onto the stone driveway, slowly turning to take everything in.
The fountain.
The gardens.
The climbing roses.
The enormous oak trees.
Beautiful.
Then reality returned.
His shoulders tensed once more.
Damian quietly led the way inside.
The entrance hall was illuminated by a magnificent crystal chandelier, its light reflecting across polished marble floors. Portraits of the Laurent family lined the walls, while fresh flowers filled elegant vases throughout the room.
Everything was immaculate.
Everything was peaceful.
As they reached the foot of the staircase…
A tiny voice spoke behind him.
“…Damian?”
He almost didn’t hear it.
It was so soft.
So uncertain.
He turned.
Skylar stood a few steps away, nervously fidgeting with his wedding band.
His gaze remained fixed firmly on the floor.
“I…”
Skylar swallowed.
“I know we’re married now…”
“…but…”
Another pause.
“Would it be alright…”
“…if I had my own room?”
He looked so apologetic.
As though he expected rejection.
As though asking for something so simple was somehow unreasonable.
Damian’s heart tightened.
You’re afraid I’ll say no.
He had expected this.
In fact…
He had prepared for it weeks ago.
He answered without hesitation.
“Of course.”
Skylar looked up in surprise.
“…Really?”
“I had a room prepared for you.”
“You did?”
Damian nodded.
“It’s opposite mine.”
“You’ll have complete privacy.”
“And if you ever need anything…”
“…I’ll be close.”
For a second…
Skylar simply stared.
He looked…
Confused.
Almost suspicious.
As though kindness had not been the answer he’d prepared himself for.
Damian gestured toward the staircase.
“This way.”
He opened the bedroom door.
Skylar stepped inside.
Immediately…
He stopped walking.
The room was enormous.
Warm cream walls.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the gardens.
A fireplace.
Bookshelves.
A comfortable sitting area.
Fresh flowers.
A private balcony stretching across the entire side of the house.
Even his belongings had already been unpacked neatly into the wardrobe.
Everything had been arranged.
Not as a guest room.
But as somewhere someone could truly live.
Skylar slowly walked towards the balcony.
“…It’s beautiful.”
The words escaped before he seemed to realise he’d spoken them aloud.
Damian allowed himself the smallest smile.
“I’m glad you like it.”
Skylar looked startled, as though he’d forgotten Damian was still standing there.
He quickly looked away again.
“Thank… you.”
The words were barely audible.
Damian inclined his head.
“Sleep well, Skylar.”
He quietly left, closing the door behind him.
⸻
Later that night…
Damian sat alone in his bedroom with a glass of Scotch.
The house had fallen silent.
Somewhere across the hallway…
Skylar was sleeping.
Or at least trying to.
Damian looked toward the closed bedroom door separating them.
Finally.
He was here.
Safe.
No assassins.
No kidnappers.
No men watching him from parked cars.
No danger reaching him before Damian did.
His shoulders relaxed for what felt like the first time in weeks.
A quiet thought entered his mind.
Mine to protect.
He frowned slightly at the possessive wording.
Yet…
He couldn’t deny it.
Skylar was his husband now.
Whether affection ever grew between them or not…
Damian had made a promise.
No one would hurt him again.
Not while Damian Laurent still drew breath.
He finished his drink.
For the first time in years…
The house no longer felt empty.
⸻
The following morning…
Damian entered the dining room precisely at eight.
Breakfast had already been prepared.
Fresh fruit.
Eggs.
Pastries.
Coffee.
Tea.
Moments later…
Skylar appeared.
His hair was still slightly damp from his shower, falling loosely over his shoulders.
He looked…
Comfortable.
Until he noticed Damian.
Immediately…
He chose the chair farthest away.
Damian glanced at the distance between them.
Nearly the entire length of the dining table.
He looked at Skylar.
Then at the empty chairs.
Then back at Skylar.
He almost smiled.
Am I truly that terrifying?
He said nothing.
Instead…
He calmly buttered a piece of toast.
Breakfast passed in peaceful silence.
Afterwards, Damian placed his coffee cup down.
“I’d like to show you the house.”
Skylar hesitated.
“…Alright.”
They began walking.
The library.
“The books are yours to borrow.”
A music room.
“The piano belonged to my mother.”
A sitting room.
“The fireplace is usually lit during winter.”
Skylar listened quietly.
Occasionally nodding.
Still keeping a careful step or two between them.
Eventually…
They reached the kitchen.
Skylar stopped.
His eyes grew impossibly wide.
It was every baker’s dream.
Professional ovens lined one wall, polished worktops stretched endlessly beneath hanging copper cookware, and an entire section was devoted solely to pastries and desserts.
Sunlight poured through wide windows overlooking a herb garden.
Skylar whispered without thinking,
“…This kitchen…”
“…is incredible.”
His eyes practically sparkled.
For the first time that morning…
Fear disappeared completely.
He slowly walked around the island, running gentle fingers across the smooth marble surface.
Damian watched quietly.
There you are.
The real Skylar.
The baker.
The man who looked happiest surrounded by flour and ovens.
“I had it renovated a few years ago,” Damian said.
“If you’d ever like to use it…”
Skylar turned quickly.
“…I can?”
“It would make me happy.”
Skylar’s expression softened for the briefest moment.
Then, almost as quickly, he remembered himself and looked away.
Damian hid another smile.
They continued outside.
The gardens stretched endlessly beneath the morning sun.
Roses climbed white stone walls.
A koi pond reflected the clouds above.
Fruit trees lined a winding path.
Several discreet security guards stood at distant checkpoints, blending into the landscape without disturbing its beauty.
Damian introduced Skylar to the household staff.
“This is Martha.”
“Our head housekeeper.”
She smiled warmly.
“It’s lovely to finally meet you, Sir.”
One by one, the chefs, gardeners, chauffeurs and indoor staff greeted him.
Every single one addressed Skylar with genuine respect.
No one questioned his place.
He already belonged.
As they continued walking, Damian noticed Skylar absentmindedly spinning his wedding ring again.
Looking everywhere…
Except directly at him.
He nearly laughed.
Nothing had changed.
Not really.
The little boy who used to hide behind flower bushes had simply grown taller.
And somehow…
Damian found every nervous glance, every fidget, every awkward silence strangely endearing.
He had once spent years secretly watching a shy little boy run away from him.
Now…
That same boy was walking beside him.
Even if there were still two careful steps between them.
Damian found he didn’t mind.
Trust wasn’t built in a day.
He had promised Skylar he would earn it.
And for the first time in his life…
Damian Laurent discovered that he was willing to be patient.
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