His to Consume

That's Not Fair Damien

Lena's POV

I inhaled deeply while gazing at him, my chest caving in as I did that. "You are being unreasonable Damien. You understand how much I have tried to overcome all that. Don't you?"

He gritted his teeth and turned his face away. "Lena, I saw him pull you into his arms tonight. You didn't push him away immediately. For a moment... it seemed like you didn't want to." The words were clouded in jealousy and hurt. They pinched me right in the heart.

I shook my head in both frustration and sadness. "Damien, that's not fair. It wasn't like that." I dropped my voice lower, almost as if begging him to get it. "I am being made to feel guilty about something I did not do. How is that fair?"

He turned his head to the side and sighed, apparently giving up the almost pointless arguing for a victory over himself. "Perhaps I am Lena, but I am not saying it is one-sided. It is difficult for me as well, especially with the tone," his voice came out hoarse. "What is the point of trying my best, waiting, if... it is at all, I will be regarded as an alternative?"

His words cut through the pain barrier, but I got the message. It was clear to me when Grant showed up tonight, it had messaged both of us in different ways. But it bothered me to know that he blamed me for such betrayal. "Damien," I said, still in a voice with less volume, "you regard me so highly. Why don't you think so?"

For a moment, silence reigned. He stared, and I could tell his expression was somewhat softened, but there was still something serious about his eyes. After that, he bent forward, closer to me, and I could see it was some kind of surrender. His palm came up to graze my face quite softly. I gasped because this was too close, and I could tell there was a war raging within him.

"There is still time to call it a night, Lena," he told her in a voice so low she had to strain to hear it, leaning in so close his lips brushed against her cheek. I was taking everything in until... his face was a few inches away from mine, almost kissing me.

I was caught off guard for a moment. Unable to help, I flinched away and raised my palm, and before I could stop myself, my hand landed gently but firmly on his face. My hand fell back to my side and I gasped at what had just happened, completely surprised at myself.

Damien was taken aback, lifting his hand to the wounded side of his face where I had slapped him. His expression was one of surprise and pain, and an uncomfortable silence descended between us that was impossible to dispel.

For an instant, we simply gazed at one another, both of us understanding what had just occurred. Finally, as if he could hold any more of the pressure in his chest, he let out a small, resigned sigh, bowing his head and withdrawing from me. "Wonderful," he mumbled under his breath and his tone had a sharp disappointment that sliced through me.

He did not say anything more, turned his back on me and hurried to his car. I felt like calling him back to apologize, to make him understand... But the voice of reason beat me to it. I simply gazed at him as he entered his car, fired up the engine, and drove away, leaving me behind in the cold and with an overheated little heart.

I watched him go until the red glare of the lights on his vehicle seized against the backdrop of the darkness. Sadness filled me as I asked myself, What have I done? At that moment, I placed my hand over my heart and realized how much I still wanted to say to him.

I stood there alone, as the surrounding silence only served to agonize my conscience. I was standing in one place, and my hands were slightly shaking as I came to the realization that this evening's actions of mine had alienated Damien more than I had ever wanted.

In a quiet voice, I chide myself, "What is the mess I've created?"

I saw Damien's vehicle driving away and sadness consumed me, fully, like an angry ocean tide that never recedes. It was quiet and calm, and the night seemed to be more heavy and stifling than ever. Hairs on my arms and fingers also shook as they remembered the slap that I did not want to give, and my heartbeat was painful, as if each pumping of my heart were reminding me of the disaster I had just caused. I could feel the weight of gravity of the consequences of what had just taken place, and I seemed to be sinking in it.

I turned my back slowly and began making my way up the stairs to my front door. Each footstep felt like moving through liquid; it was such an effort to walk. The inside of the house was also unwelcoming as the tiles made me sound like an empty drum, which made me feel even more vacant. I plopped on the couch, totally distressed and unable to stop the thoughts churning in me. There was an ache of remorse and a deep sense of perplexity. How was the situation able to shift so drastically?

The night had started so full of hope. The gala was meant to commemorate my achievements and show Damien that I was already on the move; looking towards us and all that we could create together. But with Grant showing up out of the blue, it was bound to complicate matters even more and now... it was as if everything was spilling, and I was the one left holding the broken pieces.

Everything that transpired that night I kept running in my head over and over again, going through every moment and every word. Damien's blank face as he caught sight of me with Grant. The stress that remained in his voice was tempered by the quiet disbelief in his eyes. And of course, Grant, who was always the 'other' in my narrative, came back and knocked at my door. Even as chaos reigned, I couldn't help but cringe thinking of the time Grant turned me around even as his palm held me in place. The memory of how he had caught me up, even for a minuscule amount of time, made me feel anger and frustration bobbing upwards from within me because there was something even more troublesome than those feelings.