I followed him just beyond the glow of the lanterns, where the night pressed softly around them like a blanket no one had asked for. We stood near the edge of the gardens, wind teasing the tall grass, the hum of music distant now—almost dreamlike.
Damian didn’t speak at first. He just looked at me.
Not with arrogance. Not with the polished confidence he wore like armor.
With something closer to ache.
“You were everything I knew you would be,” he said at last, voice low, almost reverent. “And more.”
My breath caught. The words settled deep, curling somewhere between my ribs and my spine.
He stepped closer, gaze steady.
“I’m not here to explain,” he added before I could speak, a faint smile playing at the edge of his mouth. “You deserve more than a speech. More than reasons wrapped in
