CHAPTER SEVEN: MORNING AFTER
1920 Words
*5:47 AM. Damian’s Penthouse. 42nd Floor.*
Sunlight cut through the glass walls in thin gold lines.
Tessa woke up to silence.
Not the hospital silence. Not the scared silence.
This one was… warm.
She was on the couch. A thick grey blanket over her. Damian’s black suit jacket under her head like a pillow. It still smelled like him. Cedar, rain, and something expensive.
He wasn’t there.
Her phone was on the coffee table. 3 missed calls from Dr. Ellis. 1 text: _Zara discharged. Resting at home. Nurse on duty. She keeps asking for you._
She exhaled. Zara was safe.
The penthouse smelled like coffee and rain.
“Tessa.”
Her head snapped up.
Damian stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows. Shirt off. Sweatpants low on his hips. He was holding two mugs. Hair still damp from a shower. Water dripped down the back of his neck.
He looked… human. No tie. No CEO mask. Just him. Tired. Real.
“Morning,” he said. Quiet. Like he wasn’t sure if she was still here. Or if she’d run.
“Morning,” she whispered.
He walked over. Bare feet silent on the marble. Handed her a mug. Coffee. Black. The way she drank it at the office at 8:03 AM every day.
“You remembered,” she said, wrapping her hands around the mug.
“I remember everything about you,” he replied. No hesitation. No smile.
She took a sip. Their fingers brushed. Neither of them pulled away.
He sat on the other end of the couch. Not touching. But close. Close enough that she could feel the heat off his skin. Close enough to see the faint scar on his shoulder.
“Did you sleep?” he asked.
“A little.” She curled her knees under the blanket. “You didn’t.”
He shook his head. “Couldn’t.” His eyes dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes. “You were here.”
The air got heavy again. Like last night in the hallway.
But this was different. No Zara. No Victor. No hospital lights.
Just them. And morning. And choices.
---
*6:15 AM. Bathroom Doorway.*
Tessa needed space. She stood. “I… need to freshen up.”
Damian nodded once. “Second door on the right. New toothbrush. Clothes in the closet. My t-shirt should fit.”
She paused. “You planned for me to stay?”
“I hoped,” he said simply.
In the bathroom, she stared at herself in the mirror. Hair messy. Eyes red. Wearing his jacket.
She looked claimed.
She changed into an oversized black t-shirt. It fell to her thighs. Smelled like him.
When she came out, Damian was in the kitchen. Back to her.
He turned. And went still.
His eyes dragged down her legs. To the t-shirt. To her bare feet. Then up. Slow. Like he was memorizing her.
“Tessa,” he said. Just her name.
“What?” Her voice was small.
“Nothing.” He cleared his throat. Looked away. “Coffee’s getting cold.”
But his knuckles were white on the counter.
---
*7:03 AM. Kitchen Island.*
Damian didn’t cook. He ordered.
Pancakes. Fruit. Orange juice. Scrambled eggs. From the hotel downstairs.
Tessa sat on a stool. Blanket still around her shoulders. She looked small in his kitchen. In his shirt.
He slid a plate to her. “Eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Eat anyway.” It wasn’t cruel. It was… care. The same way he told nurses to check Zara.
She picked up a fork. He watched her.
“You’re staring,” she said without looking up.
“Yeah.” He didn’t look away. “I’m allowed.”
She choked on a laugh. “Arrogant.”
“Honest.” He pushed the fruit bowl closer. “You didn’t run last night.”
Her fork paused. “Should I have?”
“No.” His voice dropped. Lower. “I would’ve followed you.”
Tessa looked up then. Really looked at him.
The man who buried Victor with one phone call. Who spent thousands on a girl he met 2 weeks ago. Who slept on the floor so she could have the couch.
“Damian…”
“What?”
“Why me?” She set the fork down. “You could have any woman. No baggage. No sick sister. No Victor.”
He came around the island. Stood between her knees. Didn’t touch her yet. But his hands rested on the marble on either side of her. Caging her in.
“Because you didn’t want me for that,” he said. “You fought me. You challenged me. You chose Zara over money, over safety, over me.” His thumb brushed her jaw. Rough. Warm. “You’re the only person who’s never looked at me like a wallet or a weapon.”
Tessa’s throat hurt. “I’m scared.”
“I know.” His forehead dropped to hers. Just for a second. “Be scared with me.”
---
*8:30 AM. Flashback. 3 Years Ago.*
Tessa’s phone buzzed. An old photo popped up. Her and her mom. Before the medical bills. Before Zara’s diagnosis.
She froze.
Damian saw it. “Who is she?”
“My mom,” Tessa whispered. “She died when I was 19. That’s when it all started. Hospital bills. No insurance. I became Zara’s mom.”
Damian didn’t speak for a long time. Then: “Come here.”
He pulled her off the stool. Into his arms. No kissing. No agenda. Just… held her.
“You don’t have to be strong alone anymore,” he said into her hair. “Not with me.”
She broke. Quiet sobs into his chest.
He didn’t shush her. He just held tighter.
---
*9:12 AM. Living Room.*
Dr. Ellis called.
“Ms. Moore, Zara is asking for you. She’s stable. Oxygen is off. You can come home today.”
Tessa’s shoulders dropped in relief. “Thank you, Doctor.”
She hung up. Her hands were shaking.
Damian was already on his feet. “I’ll drive you.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to.” He grabbed his keys. And his shirt. “Unless you want to stay.”
The question hung there.
Tessa stood. The blanket fell from her shoulders. She was still in his t-shirt. It swallowed her.
Damian went still.
His eyes dragged down. Slow. To her legs. To the hem of the shirt. Then back up to her face. His jaw clenched like he was holding himself together by a thread.
“Tessa,” he said her name. Warning.
“I should go,” she whispered. “Zara…”
“Yeah.” He exhaled. Hard. Like pain. “Zara.”
He walked to the door. Opened it. But didn’t step aside yet.
“Tell me something,” he said.
“What?”
“If I asked you to stay… just for today… what would you say?”
Her heart hammered. “Damian, I can’t—”
“I’m not asking for that.” He cut her off, fast. “Not s*x. Not anything you’re not ready for.” His hand lifted. Brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m asking for you. Here. Safe. With me. No Victor. No hospital. Just… today.”
Tessa stared at him. This ruthless billionaire, asking. Not demanding.
“I…” She swallowed. “Okay. Today.”
He closed his eyes for half a second. Like she’d given him the world.
“Good,” he said. Voice rough. “Close the door.”
---
*12:40 PM. Balcony.*
They didn’t do much.
He worked on his laptop. She read on the couch.
Sometimes their knees touched. Sometimes his hand found hers.
No kissing. No touching beyond that.
But the tension? It was everywhere. In every glance. Every brush of fingers.
“Tessa.”
“Hm?”
“Look at me.”
She did.
He was watching her like she was the only thing in the room. Again.
“I’ve never wanted someone like this,” he said. Blunt. “And I hate that I can’t touch you without scaring you.”
“You don’t scare me,” she said truthfully. “Victor scared me. You… you make me feel safe.”
He stood. Crossed the room in 3 steps. Dropped to his knees in front of her chair.
Tessa froze. “Damian—”
“Shh.” He took both her hands. Pressed them to his lips. One. Then the other. Slow. “I’m not going to break you. I’m going to keep you.”
She nodded. Tears stung her eyes. “Okay.”
He stayed there. On his knees. Holding her hands. Like she was something to worship. The sun hit his hair. He didn’t look like a CEO. He looked like a man in love.
---
*4:55 PM. Zara Calls.*
Zara’s nurse FaceTimed.
“Tessy! Look!” Zara held up a drawing. It was 3 stick figures. A tall one, a medium one, a small one. Holding hands.
“Who’s that?” Tessa asked, laughing through tears.
“That’s you. That’s me. And that’s him.” She pointed at the tall one.
Damian, who was behind Tessa, went completely still.
“Zara, that’s—”
“Damian,” Zara said. “The boyfriend.”
Tessa’s face burned. “Baby, we talked about—”
“It’s okay,” Damian said quietly. He leaned into frame. “Hey, Zara.”
Zara grinned. “Are you taking care of Tessy?”
“Yes,” he said, without blinking. “I am.”
“Good.” Zara hung up.
Silence.
Tessa looked at him. “You didn’t have to say that.”
“Yes, I did,” he said. “Because it’s true.”
---
*6:22 PM. Sunset. Dropping Her Home.*
He drove her home.
Zara ran to her the second she opened the door. Small arms. Warm. Alive.
“Tessy! You’re back!”
Tessa scooped her up. “Hey, baby. I missed you.”
Zara looked past her. At Damian. “You came too.”
“Yeah.” He stood in the doorway. Hands in pockets. Like he wasn’t sure he was allowed in.
“Are you still Tessy’s boyfriend?” Zara asked, blunt as ever.
Damian looked at Tessa. Not Zara.
Tessa’s cheeks burned. “Zara, inside. Let me talk to him.”
Zara pouted but went in.
Tessa stepped into the hallway. Pulled the door almost closed.
“I should’ve told her—”
“No.” Damian shook his head. “You don’t owe anyone answers. Not yet.” He lifted her hand. Kissed her knuckles. Again. That same reverent kiss from last night. “You gave me today. That’s enough.”
“Damian…”
“I’ll be here. When you’re ready.” He let her hand go. “Call me. Anytime.”
He turned to leave.
“Damian.”
He stopped. Didn’t turn around.
“Thank you,” she said. “For today. For… not pushing. For seeing me.”
He looked over his shoulder then. Half a smile. Tired. Real.
“Always.”
Then he was gone.
Tessa closed the door. Leaned against it. Her heart was full. And terrified.
Because for the first time… she didn’t want to let go either.
Inside, Zara tugged her sleeve. “Is he coming back tomorrow?”
Tessa looked at the door. At his fading footsteps.
“I hope so,” she whispered.
- Writer
