Chapter 5
1097 Words
“Babe? Everything okay in there?”
Damian’s voice pulled me back into the room.
I blinked quickly, forcing myself to breathe.
Jackson was already sitting calmly at the dining table, his expression blank, as if he had not just dropped a question that had turned my entire world upside down.
Are you absolutely sure Damian is his father?
I swallowed hard and turned toward Damian.
“Yeah,” I said, though my voice sounded distant even to me. “Everything is fine.”
Damian studied my face for a second too long.
“You don’t look fine.”
“I’m just tired,” I repeated.
The lie was becoming too familiar.
Jackson leaned back in his chair, his eyes lowering to his phone as though I no longer existed.
But I knew better.
He was watching and waiting.
Damian walked closer and wrapped an arm around my waist. The warmth of his touch should have comforted me, but instead it made my chest ache.
“Maybe you should go upstairs and rest,” he said softly.
Before I could answer, he added, “Oh, and babe… Jackson will be spending the night here with us.”
My body went still.
“What?”
Damian looked confused by my reaction.
“We have a lot to sort out for the project tomorrow morning. It’s already late, and his place is far from here.” He smiled at Jackson. “The guest room is ready, right?”
Jackson looked up slowly.
“That’s very kind of you.”
I stared at Damian.
He had no idea what he was inviting into our home.
No idea that the man sitting across from us had just tried to make me doubt the one thing I had never questioned.
My son.
“Of course,” I managed to say. “The guest room is ready.”
Damian kissed the side of my head before turning towards the living room.
Jackson followed him a moment later, but not before giving me one last look.
It was brief.
Almost harmless.
Yet it felt like a warning.
The rest of the evening felt like a nightmare I could not wake up from.
Damian and Jackson moved to the living room to discuss work. Their voices drifted through the house...plans, laughter, the occasional clink of glasses.
I stayed in the kitchen longer than necessary, pretending to clean dishes that were already clean.
But my mind kept returning to Jackson’s words.
What night was he talking about?
There had been so many reckless nights back then.
So many parties.
So many moments I wished I could erase.
Though I just couldn't figure out what night exactly it was.
But there was one night that kept trying to rise from the darkest corner of my memory.
A night just before my wedding.
A girls’ night party I had barely remembered afterward.
I remembered the loud music. The crowded room.
The unknown faces.
I remembered drinking far more than I should have and dancing with someone whose face I could no longer picture clearly.
I remembered a drink being placed in my hand.
And then nothing.
Only waking up the next morning naked and confused with a splitting headache and a terrible feeling that something had happened.
Something I had been too afraid to question.
I could not even ask my friends about it because I was terrified they would confirm the worst thoughts already living inside my head.
“No,” I whispered to myself.
It could not be that night.
It could not.
Later, Damian came upstairs after Jimi had fallen asleep.
He found me sitting at the edge of the bed, staring at nothing.
“You’re quiet again,” he said gently.
I forced a smile. “Just thinking.”
He sat beside me and took my hand.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?”
The words nearly broke me.
For one dangerous second, I wanted to tell him everything.
The dreams.
The text.
Jackson.
The missing pieces of that night.
But fear closed around my throat.
What if he looked at me differently?
What if he believed I had hidden too much?
What if I lost him?
“I know,” I whispered and broke into tears.
Damian’s expression changed immediately.
“Hey, baby. Hey, don’t cry,” he said softly, pulling me into his arms. “I’m right here.”
I buried my face against his chest.
He smelled like the familiar comfort of home.
And that only made me cry harder.
Damian kissed my forehead and held me tightly.
“I love you, Jenna.”
“I love you too,” I said.
And it was the truth.
That was what made the secret hurt the most.
Hours later, Damian was asleep beside me.
But sleep would not come for me.
Jackson’s question kept circling in my head until I could barely breathe.
Finally, I slipped out of bed.
The hallway was dark and silent.
I walked downstairs carefully, telling myself I only needed water.
But when I reached the living room, I saw a faint light coming from the guest room.
Jackson was still awake.
My heart began to race.
I should have gone back upstairs.
I should have stayed away.
Instead, I walked toward the door.
It was slightly open and Jackson sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling through something on his phone.
Then he looked up.
Almost as if he had been expecting me.
“You remembered, didn’t you?” he asked quietly.
My mouth went dry.
“Remembered what?”
He gave a small, humourless smile.
“That night.”
I stepped into the room, anger pushing through my fear.
“You have no right to talk about my son.”
Jackson’s expression changed.
For the first time, he looked serious.
“I’m not just talking about your son, Jenna.”
He held out his phone.
“I’m talking about what happened the night before your wedding.”
My hands shook as I took it.
On the screen were photos.
Dark.
Blurry.
Taken in a room I vaguely recognised but could not fully remember.
In one photo, I was lying on the edge of a bed, my face turned away from the camera.
In another, there was a masked man standing near me.
My stomach dropped.
Then I saw the final image.
A close-up of the masked man bending me over and on his fingers was a ring.
A familiar ring.
The same ring Damian wore every single day.
My heart went still.
- Writer
