His Enemy, My Husband

Chapter 23: Arising Questions

Over a week had passed since Isla saw a bit of Damien's vulnerable side. They had quietly returned to their normal way of life since then, with neither of them trying to bring the event up.

However, despite the pretense, it was so clear that something had changed between them.

And this “change” started with no other person but Damien himself.

For five straight days now, he has been showing up at Isla’s boutique at exactly 5:00 p.m.

He sent No texts. He made no explanations; all he did was appear at the exact time she was closing to pick her up.

Three times out of the five times, he had asked in that low, dry voice of his, keeping his gaze straight ahead,

“Did you eat today?”

And Isla had tried her best to answer back as stiffly as possible. There were no romantic gestures, no flowers, no small talk.

Just silence. But it was also obvious that it wasn’t just business anymore.

Another unexpected thing that happened during the week was two days ago, which was on Friday.

Clarissa, Damien's sweetheart of a sister, had dragged Isla out to lunch.

And when the outing was only just a few hours old Clarissa had suddenly dropped her fork and blurted an unexpected question,

“You’re wondering why I don't include Damien in the childhood stories I tell you right?”

Isla hesitated, even though she had questions, but she wasn't exactly wondering about that at that very minute but before she could part her lips,

Clarissa had already dived deeper; “He didn’t grow up with us actually. His mom raised him alone. We didn’t know he existed until she passed away.”

Isla went stiff, trying not to look as shocked as she was. “Really?”

“Yes, I know you will be surprised, but that's the honest truth.”

Clarissa affirmed. “Dad brought him in, called it ‘doing the right thing.’ But Mum found out about the affair. It was messy. Damien… he..he was caught in the middle of it all, poor guy.”

Isla shifted on her seat, her eyes dimming as she started to remember the first time she visited the Blackwoods with Damien; the open hostility she sensed, the judgment,, and the final whispers;

“He’ll never be one of us.”

It was similar to what Damien had shared with her a week ago as well, his solemn talk about family betrayal.

“Oh God, now, it was all making sense.”

But there was something else aside from this fact that was dawning inside her. And this was about the strange way she was feeling at the mention of Damien.

“I am still in this game for revenge right?” She could not help but to query herself.

“Was this even a game anymore? If yes then why was I suddenly caring so much?”

She gasped quietly, turning away from Clarissa to hide her expression.

Clarissa, noticing the change waved to ask, “You okay?”

Isla forced a smile. “Yeah, I guess it's the spice…a little bit much.”

But it had nothing to do with the spice. Her heart of hearts knew the truth.

Isla was beginning to care for Damien.

Activities at Isla’s Boutique were beginning to wind down for the day. The last customers had left moments ago, and at the back office, Isla was sitting at the desk, reviewing stock information on her table.

Halfway in, she heard a sound at the front door Not the usual kind. The incoming footsteps were just too measured, majestic,, and suspicious.

Isla blinked.

“Who could that be?”

Carefully, she placed the tablet down and started to make her way out of the office cautiously.

On getting to the main section, she saw a lady standing near the center of the boutique like she owned it; she was tall and gorgeously dressed, her jewelry bright as the sun.

It took Isla about three blinks to finally recognize her.

“Isabella Sterling.” The same Golden Bella as the media called her. High society royalty. Boardroom strategist. Magazine cover regular.

“What was she doing here?” Isla kept watching her, trying not to show the questions rising in her head.

And as for Isabella, she didn’t even glance at Isla. She must have known Isla was there. But for some reason she still looked past her towards the side of the boutique where one of Isla’s staff now stood awkwardly, visibly startled by the unexpected presence.

Isabella pointed and commanded with authority the moment she saw him.

“Hey, You. That mannequin’s styling outside is atrocious. Fix it.”

The staff hesitated, glancing at Isla fearfully.

Isla didn’t say a word. Then Isabella turned as well and it was at that point that their eyes met.

Still, no greeting happened. No show of warmth. Then, just like that, Isabella broke the stare and turned back to a rack of dresses, her fingers sliding across the hangers like she was in her own personal closet.

Minutes passed with the air still heavy with that tension. And then the door suddenly opened to reveal yet another figure.

This time, it was a man, Damien himself.

He walked in as if the world belonged to him, as usual. Sleeves rolled up slightly. Isla held her breath, almost smiling.

He was early today, maybe fifteen minutes before closing but she didn’t care.

He was here. Her lips almost parted to greet him. But it had been shortlived. Because Damien’s steps had suddenly begun to slow when his eyes landed on Isabella.

Isabella turned too and looked up sharply to meet his gaze.

Isla narrowed her eyes, observing how the pause was feeling too familiar. Too knowing.

Do they know themselves?

The answer to that question came when Damien opened her mouth to speak first,

“Isabella,” he called.

She blinked, lips curving in a slow smirk as she took a step closer. “Damien.”

They came close but thankfully didn’t kiss.

Instead, they hugged like two people who had done this before. Like lovers.

Isla’s face fell. She took a slow step backward, her body moving before her thoughts could.

Damien leaned into Isabella’s ear and began to whisper something too low for Isla to hear.

Isabella laughed at it.

And while Isla was thinking that, that was the worst of it, Damien had begun to laugh too.

Not a forced chuckle. Not the kind of sharp humor he used to deflect. But something real. Genuine.

Damien…laughing? So He could laugh?

Was this even the same man she had been living with for weeks?

As the two kept talking in low voices, Damien finally turned his head just slightly and saw Isla but his look was without feeling.

“We’ll talk later,”

he motioned casually like he was already halfway gone.

Then he turned back to take Isabella's hand and together, they started to walk out. Her shoulder brushed against his arm. She didn’t say anything to Isla throughout.

When they had totally disappeared, Isla slowly walked back into the store, locking the door behind her. Feeling drained she slumped into the nearest chair to her.

She then looked into the air in fresh bewilderment.

What had just happened? Why was she feeling this way?

She murmured and bowed her head when no answers were forthcoming.

Half an hour later, Damien’s driver stopped by to pick her up, but she turned him away with a quiet but firm shake of her head.

Five minutes after that, she grabbed her bag and started to hurry out.

Outside, she hailed a cab with her arms crossed, eyes locked forward as if nothing had happened.

But Inside her head was a battlefield of questions clashing with themselves.

Who really was this Isabella to Damien?