Brewed For You

Chapter 12

“I can explain,” Aria said again, her voice trembling despite how hard she tried to steady it.

The once bustling café seemed to have become silent, with everything seeming to fade away to just her and Damian. Aria broke out in a cold sweat, she could almost swear that Damian can hear heart beating.

Damian’s hand relaxed slightly on the table, though his eyes didn’t leave hers. “Then go ahead... explain.”

Thankfully, Cole still hasn't returned back to the table. Giving them the much needed space for this conversation. Although Damian couldn't see him from where he was sat, he could imagine him sitting in the car playing one of those games he was always playing on his phone in the office. Typical Cole.

Aria’s fingers twisted the edge of her apron. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“You mean the photo or the threat?” Damian’s tone was careful ...not angry, not accusing, just… controlled. He was trying to be careful not to spook her into not telling him whatever this was.

Her throat felt dry. “Both.”

She sat down opposite him, palms flat on the table as if grounding herself. “That picture... I didn’t take it. Someone threw a rock through my window last night and it was tied to it. Along with that note.”

Damian frowned. “ Why would you think I would think you were behind this? You're obviously a victim here. Are you hurt? Who have you told?”

“Who would I tell, Damian? The police?” She barked out a laugh but it had no humor. “You think they’ll care about a small café owner getting weird notes? They barely paid me any mind the last time I reported a vase like this.”

Something shifted in Damian’s expression, realization, then concern. “Last time?”

Aria froze, realizing she’d said too much. But it was too late. She had messed up the moment she let it slip from her lips..

“Aria, talk to me,” he said softly. “What’s going on?”

For a long moment, all she did was stare at the cup between them, watching the ripples in her coffee. Then she spoke, barely above a whisper. “I used to get notes like this before...”

Damian’s jaw clenched, cutting her off mid sentence. “What?”

“It was a long time ago though…” She rushed out to say. “I didn't really pay it any mind back then because it stopped after a while but it started again. Just when he came back...”

She stopped, swallowing hard. She couldn't bring herself to say it out loud. It felt like if she said it out, she'll somehow bring her suspicion to reality. She didn't want to believe he was behind it now and possibly even back then...

Damian leaned forward. “Who's 'he'? Who came back?”

She looked at him, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Ethan.”

The weight of those words hit him like a blow. His mind spun.. Ethan. Of course it had to be Ethan. Every piece fit too perfectly: the tension in her eyes whenever his name was mentioned, the way she shut down whenever he was near.

Why didn't I think of him already? He thought to himself

Damian’s hands curled into fists under the table.

Aria’s silence was confirmation enough that she was scared of Ethan.

“I should’ve known,” Damian nostrils flared with contained fury. “The way he looked at you, the way you flinched when...” He stopped himself, lowering his voice. Not wanting to stir up painful memories for her. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Her eyes flashed, a mix of fear and frustration. “Because it’s not your problem, Damian! You’ve already done enough for me. You shouldn’t even be here, helping me. You’re my landlord’s lawyer, for God’s sake! I don’t want you tangled in my mess.”

He leaned forward. “Stop saying that!”

The quiet intensity in his voice made her falter. When she looked into his eyes she didn't find pity in them like she expected... just conviction, raw and fierce.

“Look,” she said, trying again, gentler this time. “I appreciate what you’re doing, really, but I can handle this. I’ve handled worse.”

He studied her face, the way he fingers trembled, the dark circles under her eyes, the brave little smile that didn’t fool him for a second.

“And I have no doubt about that,” he said softly. “but I'm not letting you handle this alone. You've got me now.”

Their eyes locked. The world outside their corner faded away.

For a long, fragile moment, neither of them spoke. Damian’s voice finally broke through, quieter this time. “Even the strongest warriors need help too. There's no shame in that.”

Her lips parted, but no sound came. The warmth in his eyes, the kind that could melt through her walls, was both comforting and terrifying.

If she let him in, there’d be no turning back. And the possibility that this could also put him in harm's way...

She exhaled, shaking her head. “Damian…”

But before she could say more, he reached for her hand, holding them in his. Just a simple gesture; steady, grounding, and real.

“You’re not alone,” he said again, firmer now. “Not anymore.”

Something inside her cracked. All the fear, the exhaustion, the weight she’d been carrying finally broke through, and a soft, strangled sound escaped her throat. She blinked fast, but the tears still came.

Damian didn’t move. He just stayed there, holding her hand, letting her breathe.

Then, like a dam bursting, the words came pouring out. She told him about Ethan. Not everything, not yet, but enough. The lies, the manipulation, the possessiveness. The way he’d made her feel small, trapped, powerless.

Damian listened, silent but seething inside. Each word made his chest tighten, his pulse pound harder.

When she finally finished, she slumped back in her chair, drained. “Now you know,” she said quietly. “I don't need your pity”

He shook his head. “I feel bad about what you went through but I don't pity you. You're so strong Aria. If anything I'm furious at Ethan for what he put you through.”

That made her lips twitch, a ghost of a smile. “I was only joki..."

“I know,” he said softly. “But you’re safe now, okay? I’ll make sure of it.”

Her eyes flickered with something like hope, hesitant but alive. "Don't do that now...how are you sure you can keep such a promise.”

“Watch me.”

And just like that, the tension broke. Cole had come back to the table and they picked up conversations like nothing happened. They both laughed quietly at something Cole said, the kind of laugh that comes after crying. Fragile, but healing.

They talked for a while longer. She even managed to sit and eat with them after making sure all the customers had left, and they teased her about how she was "overly nice" to customers. They made the air feel lighter.

Cole got a call and had to excuse himself early, not forgetting to ask Aria for a box of the pistachio flavored muffins they had next time he came over. Apparently, he really enjoyed them.

Damian drove Aria home later that evening. This had begin to become a norm for them now.. Neither of them said much, but their silence was not strained calm, steady, threaded with something unspoken.

At her door, she turned to him, smiling softly. “Thanks for… everything today.”

He shrugged, though the corner of his mouth lifted. “You can repay me with my own box of the pistachio muffins next time.” He stepped closer, so close that his scents invaded her senses.

“Deal,” she said, giggling and before he could say anything else, she ran inside, shutting the door behind her.

Damian lingered for a moment, smiling faintly at the sound of her laughter echoing inside. Then he turned and walked away, unaware of the shadow that lingered across the street, watching.

Hours later, as Aria brushed her hair and got ready for bed, she finally felt her body start to relax. She glanced at her window, the wind blowing her curtains from the hole caused by the rock. Reminding her she still need to get it fixed.

She climbed into bed, pulling the blanket up to her chin. Her eyes fluttered closed.

Then....

CRASH!!!

The sound of shattering glass ripped through the room.

Aria bolted upright, heart hammering, her breath catching in her throat.

Again?

Mila rushed in, not bothering to knock this time. She burst in the room just in time for her to see Aria crouched down by scattered shards of glass. Another note tied to the rock that smashed through the glass.

Aria's shaking hands reached for it, untying the string.

This one was shorter.

Four words scrawled in dark ink.

I warned you, Aria.