The Revenge Marriage

The moment the door opened and I saw Damien face, immediately I knew something wasn’t right. He didn’t step inside, didn't touch or smile with me as he used to. He just stood there in the hallway like he was carved out of ice. “Damien?” My voice softened instinctively, the way it always did around him. What’s the matter? Why are you sad? I reached for his hand but he pulled it away. The shock hit me like a slap. “What… what’s going on?” His jaw tightened. I saw the exact second he forced himself to disconnect from me. It was like watching the man I loved walk out of his own body. “It’s over between us ,” he said. My heart thudded once, hard, then dropped like it wanted to escape my chest. “What do you mean?” I whispered. “We just talked last night. You said, you missed me.” “That was a mistake,” he said. A mistake? The word punched a hole straight through my ribs. He didn’t look at me, instead he looked past me as if I was already a memory. “I don’t want you in my life,” Damien said. I felt the world tilt. The walls, the floor, everything blurred in a sickening rush. “Damien, at least tell me why. Look at me, please.” My voice cracked, small and humiliating, but I didn’t care. I grabbed his sleeve. “Just tell me why.” “It doesn’t matter.” “It matters to me,” Damien. I need to know everything. He exhaled, sharp and cold. “I’m tired of this relationship. It’s draining. You’re draining.” The floor dropped open underneath my feet. That wasn’t his voice. Damien who held me when I cried, who whispered that I was the only real thing in his world would never say such things. But he kept going, each word sharper than the last. My legs weakened. My fingers slipped from his sleeve. “No,” I whispered. “You’re lying. You don’t talk like this.” “It’s over,” he said again, firmer this time. Then he turned and walked down the hallway without looking back. And something inside of me broke so violently which felt physical, like a bone tearing through my skin. I staggered into the apartment, tears running down my cheek, I couldn’t control it. My chest hurt, my vision stung, and my breath came fast and shallow. I grabbed my coat with shaking hands and rushed out the door. I couldn’t breathe in that apartment. The walls were closing in as every part of me seemed broken. I couldn’t imagine he just threw me away like I meant nothing. I needed air. I needed answers to the questions running through my mind at that moment. I needed to get away from the pieces of myself scattered on the floor. I ran down the stairs, through the lobby, out into the storm. Rain soaked me instantly, harsh and cold, but I barely felt it. All I could see was him walking away and his voice saying he didn't want me. I got into my car with trembling hands as I slammed the door shut, my breath came fast and shallow as if it was about to collapse. “No,” I whispered, gripping the steering wheel. My chest tightened until pain shot down my arm. I turned the key. The engine roared to life. I pulled out too fast without even looking where I was going. The streets were slick with rain, traffic lights reflecting in violent streaks across the wet pavement. My tears blurred everything. My heartbeat pounded in my ears. I shouldn’t have been driving. I knew that. But heartbreak doesn’t care about safety. I kept hearing his voice. The way he spoke those hurting words. My breath hitched so hard I almost choked on it. I cleaned my eyes, but the tears kept coming. The street curved sharply. I didn’t see it soon enough. My tires skidded as the world spun, my horn blasted, and my body slammed forward. Glass shattered all over the car seat. Pain exploded through me so fast there was no time to understand it. Then everything went black. When I woke up, everything was white. The ceiling, walls, the sheets. The steady hum of the machine beside me was the only sound. My head throbbed, and for a moment, I didn’t remember what had happened. I blinked slowly, and then memories slammed back one by one. Damien’s cold voice. His hand slipped away. The sobs in the car. The crash. My heart lurched painfully. I couldn’t stop the tears running down my cheeks. A nurse rushed over, eyes widening. “Oh my God… you’re awake.” But her voice felt far away. My mind was somewhere else entirely. It pulled me backward. Hard and unstoppable. Straight into the memories of how Damien and I met. The night I fell in love with Damien Blackwood began with rain. Not the soft kind that melts into the pavement, but the sharp, relentless storm that slashes the city like it wants to carve its name into every surface. I remember standing under the awning outside Kensington Hall, staring at invitations glittering in the gutter while my umbrella flipped inside out. Then a man stepped beside me, shoulders broad, suit soaking slowly along the edges as if he didn’t care, as if the storm itself respected him too much to touch fully. He held out his umbrella to shield me without saying a word. And when I looked up into those cold gray eyes, something inside me shifted in a way I couldn’t explain, like a lock turning at the exact moment its key finally finds home. “Rough night,” he said quietly. I responded with a smile “Yes but I will be fine, it's just rain.” Anyway, I’m called Damien Blackwood, can I know your name please? " he said, stretching his hand for a handshake. The calmness of his voice was something I couldn’t resist, without hesitation I replied “I’m Arielle Cruz, nice meeting you. Something about him intrigued me instantly. He wasn’t pushy, just… curious. We talked for a few minutes about the rain then we exchanged phone numbers. When I got home he called to check if I was okay. We talked for hours that evening, and the hours turned into days, the days into weeks. He was a charming, attentive, loving and caring man. He was full of small surprises that make you believe love really exists. Flowers at my door. Texts just to check on me. Damien was everything a woman would wish for. He was everything I thought never existed. His simplicity was touch- not. The calmness of his voice made me feel safe by his side. I was excited to finally meet someone I could trust with my heart. He never spoke much about his family. Only about his father who was powerful. Influential and demanding. There was always a tension in his voice when he mentioned him, like a shadow passing briefly across the sun. Alexander Blackwood was his name. The name alone carried weight. I hadn’t met him yet, but I felt him in the way Damien stiffened when his phone rang. And the way his jaw tightened whenever business came up. The careful walls he built around himself that he refused to let me touch. His laughter, hands around my waist, the whisper to my ears “You’re the only thing in my life that isn’t transactional”. I closed my eyes, but the memories didn’t stop. They came faster, harder, forming a reel of everything I thought was real. And then the sudden change of mind to I don’t love you makes my breath hitched, sharp and painful. I didn’t know then that he would be the reason I learned the difference between breaking and shattering, didn't know he would become the shape of every dream and nightmare. The nurse placed a hand on my shoulder like she thought I was crying from physical pain. But she didn’t understand. This wasn’t just pain but death wearing the mask of memory. The door opened. My heart froze. I heard footsteps outside the door, deliberate and measured. Someone knocked softly. “Miss Cruz,are you there?” A nurse spoke. “I’m sorry, visiting hours are over.” A low, controlled voice answered from the hallway. “I just need to see her. It’s important.” The nurse hesitated, and I recognized the authority in it immediately. That voice could belong to someone influential but didn’t know who he was. “I’m her father’s… business associate,” he added, but it didn’t matter. The nurse shook her head. “I’m sorry. No one can see her right now. She’s resting.” The footsteps retreated, deliberate and silent. Even in that sterile, suffocating room, I could feel the weight of him outside—the man who would later change everything.