Chapter 5: the charity gala
1308 Words
The dress for the gala was red.
_“It’s the color of wine,”_ Mara said while zipping it up. _“Long sleeves. High neck. Mr. Voss was very specific.”_
Lisa stood still while Mara pinned her hair up. _“He said no diamonds. Only pearls.”_
Lisa touched the pearls at her throat. Cool. Heavy.
“Why red?” Lisa asked quietly.
“Because you’ll be the only one wearing it,” Mara said simply.
The car ride was silent. Again. But this time Damien wasn’t on his phone.
“You’ll stay on my arm,” he said. “You’ll smile. You won’t speak unless I introduce you.”
“Okay,” Lisa whispered.
“You’re nervous.”
“I can hear 200 people in there.”
Damien was quiet. Then his hand found hers.
Not to hold. To guide. He placed her fingers on his sleeve.
“Count my steps,” he said. “That’s all you have to do.”
Lisa nodded. Her heart was in her throat.
The doors opened and sound hit her like a wave. Music. Voices. Clinking glass. Camera flashes she couldn’t see but could _feel_ in the air.
“Mr. and Mrs. Voss,” someone announced.
Mrs. Voss.
Lisa lifted her chin.
They walked. Slow. Damien’s pace was steady. She matched it.
“Damien!” Voices called. “Who’s this?”
“My wife,” he said, every time. Flat. Final.
Lisa smiled. The practiced one.
Then a woman’s voice. Too sweet. Too sharp.
“Damien Voss. Well. I didn’t know you were getting married.”
Lisa felt Damien stiffen.
“Claire,” he said.
Claire.
Lisa didn’t know who that was. But the way Damien said her name... like glass breaking.
“Is this her?” Claire asked. “The blind girl?”
Lisa’s smile cracked.
“Don’t,” Damien warned.
“Oh, I’m not being mean,” Claire laughed. “I’m just surprised. After everything that happened with us, you go and marry... this.”
Lisa couldn’t breathe.
Damien’s hand tightened on hers. “Excuse us.”
He pulled Lisa away. Fast.
They didn’t stop until they were in a quiet hallway. Away from the music.
Lisa yanked her hand back. “You could’ve told me.”
“Told you what.”
“That you had an ex. That she’d be here. That people would—”
“Would what? Pity you?” Damien’s voice was low, furious. “Yes. That’s the point of this. They look at you and see someone who can’t be hurt. Because you can’t see their faces.”
Lisa laughed, but it hurt. “You’re wrong. I can hear it, Damien. In their voices.”
He didn’t answer.
Footsteps. Then Annabelle’s voice.
“Lis! Oh my god, you look amazing!”
Lisa turned toward the sound. “Annabelle. What are you doing here?”
“Mom wanted me to come,” Annabelle said. “To support you. And to talk to Damien about the... you know. The extra expenses.”
Damien stepped between them. “We talked about this.”
“Come on,” Annabelle said. “Just 20k. The landlord—”
“No.”
Annabelle’s voice went cold. “You’re being cruel. To family.”
“Your family sold her to me,” Damien said. “Don’t use that word with me.”
Lisa flinched.
Annabelle grabbed Lisa’s arm. “Lis, tell him. Tell him Mom needs—”
“Let go of her.” Damien’s voice was deadly quiet.
Annabelle let go.
“Come,” Damien said to Lisa.
They left the gala 10 minutes later.
---
The ride home was the worst kind of quiet.
Lisa stared at nothing. “Who is Claire?”
Damien didn’t answer at first.
“She was my fiancée,” he said finally. “Three years ago. She cheated. With my business partner. Then she sold the story to the press.”
Lisa’s stomach twisted. “That’s why you hate women.”
“That’s why I don’t trust them.”
Lisa nodded. “Is that why you picked me? Because I can’t cheat if I can’t see who’s there?”
Damien slammed his hand on the console. “No.”
The car went silent.
Lisa whispered, “Then why?”
“Because you didn’t flinch when I was cruel to you,” Damien said. “Everyone else did. You just... listened.”
Lisa didn’t know what to do with that.
Back at the penthouse, Lisa went straight to her room.
She didn’t cry. She just sat.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
She answered. “Hello?”
_“Lisa? It’s me.”_
Mom.
Lisa closed her eyes. “Hi, Mom.”
_“Annabelle said it was awful. That man yelled at her. Is that true?”_
Lisa swallowed. “He was protecting me.”
_“Protecting you? Lisa, we need that money. Annabelle said you could ask him—”_
“I can’t, Mom.”
_“You’re being selfish,”_ Mom snapped. _“Annabelle would’ve done anything for us.”_
The call ended.
Lisa set the phone down. Her hands were shaking.
A knock.
“Come in,” she said.
Damien.
He didn’t turn on the light. He just walked in and sat on the floor again. Like last time.
“You hung up on your mother,” he said.
“She hung up on me,” Lisa corrected.
Damien was quiet.
“Claire looked at me like I was nothing,” Lisa said. “Like I was a mistake you made.”
“You’re not a mistake.”
“Then what am I?”
A long pause.
“You’re the only person in that room tonight who wasn’t lying,” Damien said. “Including me.”
Lisa turned toward his voice. “I don’t understand you.”
“I don’t understand me either,” he admitted.
More silence.
Then Damien stood. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“The roof. There’s no one there. And it’s going to rain.”
Lisa frowned. “How do you know?”
“I can smell it.”
---
The roof was cold. Wind in her hair.
Lisa sat on a bench, blanket around her shoulders. Damien sat beside her. Not touching.
The first drop hit her cheek.
Then another.
Rain.
Lisa tilted her face up. “You were right.”
“I usually am,” Damien said. But there was no arrogance in it.
They sat there, listening to the rain on the roof 60 floors up.
“I’m sorry about Claire,” Lisa said.
“Don’t be. I’m sorry about Annabelle.”
Lisa smiled a little. “We’re both a mess.”
“Yeah,” Damien agreed.
The rain got heavier.
Damien stood. “Come on. You’ll catch a cold.”
He held out his hand.
Lisa stared at it. She couldn’t see it. But she could feel the offer.
She took it.
His hand was warm. And for the first time, he didn’t let go right away.
He walked her back inside. All the way to her door.
“Goodnight, Lisa,” he said.
“Goodnight, Damien.”
He left.
Lisa got into bed, still smelling rain and him.
Her phone rang again.
Unknown number.
She answered, heart in her throat.
_“Did you like the rain?”_ Damien asked.
Lisa smiled. “Yeah. I did.”
_“Good. Sleep now.”_
He hung up.
Across the penthouse, Damien looked at his phone.
He wasn’t supposed to call her twice in one night.
He wasn’t supposed to hold her hand.
He wasn’t supposed to want to hear her laugh again.
But he did.
And obsession was starting to feel a lot like care.
- Writer
