Chapter Thirteen — The Photograph
990 Words
I stared at the name written on the back of the photograph.
Damien.
My fingers went cold.
I turned the photograph over again.
It was an old picture of me standing outside a building I barely recognized.
I looked younger.
Happier.
And standing several feet behind me was a boy.
I couldn’t see his face clearly.
But I knew the dark hair.
The posture.
The way he stood slightly apart from everyone else.
My heart pounded.
“Damien…”
I whispered his name.
Why was he there?
And why didn’t I remember him?
I searched through the box again.
Another photograph.
Then another.
Most of them were ordinary.
Family.
Friends.
School events.
But one thing kept bothering me.
In almost every photograph from that period, there was a figure somewhere in the background.
Sometimes barely visible.
Sometimes turned away.
Always watching.
I swallowed.
Could it really be him?
My phone suddenly rang.
I jumped.
Maya.
“Hello?”
“Amara, where are you?”
“In my room.”
“You sound strange.”
“I found something.”
“What?”
I hesitated.
“A photograph.”
“Of what?”
“Damien.”
Silence.
Then Maya said,
“Okay. I’m coming over.”
⸻
Twenty minutes later, she was sitting beside me on my bed, staring at the photograph.
“That’s him.”
“You’re sure?”
She zoomed in.
“I’m sure.”
I stared at the picture.
“Why don’t I remember?”
“Maybe you met him briefly.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“There’s more.”
I showed her the other pictures.
Maya’s expression slowly changed.
“Okay…”
“What?”
“This is weird.”
“Exactly.”
She turned the photograph over.
“What’s the date?”
I pointed to it.
She read it.
“Two years ago.”
I nodded.
“The same year everyone keeps mentioning.”
Maya looked at me.
“Did Damien ever say anything about that year?”
“No.”
“Then ask him.”
I picked up my phone.
Before I could type, it buzzed.
A message from Damien.
Damien: We need to talk.
My stomach tightened.
I replied.
Me: About two years ago?
The typing indicator appeared.
Stopped.
Appeared again.
Then:
Damien: Where are you?
I didn’t answer.
Another message came.
Damien: Amara, please.
I looked at Maya.
She raised an eyebrow.
“Go.”
I grabbed my jacket.
⸻
Damien was waiting near the old campus garden.
The moment he saw me, his eyes moved to the photograph in my hand.
He stopped breathing for a second.
“You found it.”
I stared at him.
“So you know this picture.”
“Yes.”
My heart dropped.
“What happened?”
He looked away.
“Where did you get it?”
“From my old photographs.”
He nodded slowly.
“You weren’t supposed to have that.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
“Because you weren’t supposed to remember.”
“Remember what?”
He looked at me.
His eyes were filled with something I had never seen before.
Regret.
Fear.
And something that looked almost like guilt.
“You really don’t remember?”
“No.”
He closed his eyes briefly.
“Then maybe that’s for the best.”
I stepped closer.
“No. It’s not.”
He opened his eyes.
“You don’t get to decide that for me.”
“I know.”
“Then tell me.”
He looked at the photograph again.
“That picture was taken the day we met.”
My heart stopped.
“We met?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
I stared at him.
“Then why did we become enemies?”
His jaw tightened.
“Because something happened.”
“What?”
He looked away.
“You were hurt.”
My breath caught.
“What happened to me?”
He didn’t answer.
“Damien.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I promised.”
“To who?”
He was silent.
I stepped closer.
“Who did you promise?”
His eyes met mine.
“Your mother.”
I froze.
“My mother?”
He nodded.
“She asked me not to tell you.”
I couldn’t speak.
My mother?
What could she possibly have asked Damien to hide from me?
“Why would my mother ask you?”
Damien looked at me.
“Because she knew I was the only person who could keep you safe.”
My heart pounded.
“Safe from what?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he looked at the photograph one more time.
Then he whispered,
“I should have stayed away from you.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“But I couldn’t.”
His voice cracked slightly.
“I tried.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
He looked directly into my eyes.
And for the first time, there was no arrogance.
No teasing.
No rivalry.
Just honesty.
“Because even before you knew me…”
He paused.
“I already couldn’t stop watching over you.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Damien stepped back.
“You deserve the truth.”
“Then give it to me.”
He shook his head.
“Not yet.”
I felt my frustration rise.
“When, Damien?”
He looked at me for a long moment.
“After I know you’re ready.”
He walked away.
I watched him disappear into the darkness.
Then I looked down at the photograph again.
There was something I hadn’t noticed before.
In the corner of the picture, behind me and Damien…
was another person.
Someone whose face had been scratched out.
My heart stopped.
Because suddenly, I understood something.
Damien wasn’t the only person in that photograph.
And whatever happened two years ago…
he might not have been the person I needed to fear.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD