His to Consume

He is Taken

Lena's POV

I inhaled deeply, managing to put my composure in place and exited the restroom prepared for the next course of action. Upon going back into the function, I took note that the tightness within my chest remained, but I couldn't allow it to impede me. This night was meant to be a commemorative event, and I was not going to allow anyone to spoil it.

As soon as I stepped outside the stall, I felt like taking a break. Everything was getting to me: the small talk, the awards, the particularly stressful moment with Verena. I looked around the room, searching for somewhere to regroup. I found a bar, hidden in the far corner of the hall. A glass of something would help, even if it was just to ease my jangled feelings.

I proceeded to the bar, the drone of voices waning into an inaudible background. Upon arrival at the bar, I was acknowledged by the bartender with a slight inclination of his head, a warm smile adorning my face as he served me a glass of wine which he filled with red wine.

He looked at me when I lifted the glass in my hand. "Tough day at work?" he asked, arching his brow.

I looked up at him, astonished that he'd actually care to ask. "Tell me about it," I said, shaking my head, forcing a small smile at the glass that I raised for a sip, allowing the taste to roll inside my mouth for a moment. Non-alcoholic or not, the wine in the glass was still like a warm blanket wrapped around me, an old acquaintance.

The bartender was polishing the bar, nodding to the patrons in the hall. "Do you know that one over there?" he asked while extending his hand towards Grant.

I cleared my throat once again, this time worrying how my face might betray me. "Who doesn't know Grant Wells?" I answered breezily. "Why do you want to know?"

The bartender grinned, bent over the bar conspiratorially. "He's, I suppose, in the direction of that advancing ring finger getting engaged."

Those words produced a shock wave. I nearly choked on the drink, setting it down hurriedly, due to a fit of cough. "Engaged?" I managed to utter, my voice shaking just a little.

The bartender shrugged lightly, looking around as if to ensure he was not overheard. "Sure. Apparently, he's going to make a statement sometime soon. It's some family thing, a big one, I presume."

I glanced down at my drink and clutched the glass more tightly. Is Grant getting married? I thought, reeling from the news I had just received. I felt a strange kind of twist somewhere in my belly for what I knew not. After everything, all the promises made and broken, he was just going on with his life like it was nothing.

I smiled instead, as if I was not affected at all. I said, "Well, good for him," hoping my voice didn't betray the emptiness I felt.

The bartender raised an eyebrow in response, clearly aware of my reaction but not wanting to pursue the issue any further. He simply nodded his head and gave me a look that suggested he understood before going to take a drink order from another patron seated further down the bar.

I inhaled deeply as I turned my attention towards the glass before me. My heart raced, and I could not shake the strange discomfort that permeated my body. Grant engaged? Not that that made any sense, but the realization sparked thoughts in my head that made me feel confused and angry. And maybe even a little envious, which I didn't wish to own up to.

I had sworn to myself that I was finished with him. I was looking ahead, with Damien at my side. Yet, the engagement of Grant opened a resurface of an emotion that I thought I had tucked away.

While seated, blinking at the almost empty glass in my hand, I noticed a new shape beside me. I turned and found Damien next to me, concern evident in his eyes.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, meeting my eyes.

Unfortunately for me, I had managed a small smile to indicate and I nodded. "Yeah," I said, my voice almost inaudible now. "Just...needed a breather."

He focused on me for a moment, and it was as if he could read off me that there was something else, but he did not pursue the matter. He only extended his hand and placed it gently over mine. I did not expect it to be grounding, but his warmth calmed me down.

"᾿You see," he said in a soft tone, "no matter what has invaded your peace, I exist. You do not need to bear it all by yourself."

There was no pretense in his speech, his stare was unwavering and for a second I almost felt appreciation. Damien was kind, tolerant, letting me take my time to deal with all of this. But he was also present; he was someone willing to help me even if he was not versed with all the particulars surrounding me.

I inhaled deeply, nodded and squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Damien. That's very encouraging," I maintained a low whisper.

He gave me a gentle smile, his eyes softening. "Come on," he said, taking me away from the bar. "We are going back to congratulate you on your victory. It is your night after all."

As we walked back to the event, I turned around for the last time to look at Grant. He was busy talking to people, making them laugh and interacting with the people as if he was a very charming and confident man, as everyone saw him to be.

But whatever he was doing, and whatever plans he had, did not have to include me at all. I had my own life to lead, my own decisions to make. Plus, I had Damien with me, someone who truly loved me and who I knew I could rely on.

Reinforcing herself, I pulled away from looking at Grant and focused on Damien's hand, which was holding mine instead. For the first time that evening, I felt calmness washing over me.