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The answer is yes. Yes, I need her. Yes, I want her. I want to hold her in my arms, capture her lips with mine, and bask in her gentle gaze. But what I say is, "I don't know. I'll call you if needed."
Disappointment flickers in her eyes. And without thinking, I ask her, "Why do you need the money so bad, Sophie? If you don’t mind me asking, of course."
She stumbles over her words, her eyes darting to the floor. She tells me about her father, his inability to work, and his expensive medication.
Her words make my heart ache. She's not just a gentle, kind-hearted woman. She's a warrior, a fighter. A woman who loves deeply and cares immensely.
It’s then I realize how impossible it is to let her go. How could I possibly add to her burden? I'm not that kind of man. I can't be.
And so my decision is made. Sophie will stay. My heart and my daughter deserve this chance, this possible moment of happiness.
Chapter 5 - Sophie
Damien’s back is now facing me, and I take the opportunity to watch him move with a kind of grace I've never associated with a man so large and powerful.
He’s just preparing lemon tea for the both of us, but the air grows thick with the truth I've just spilled. I'm desperate for the job, and now, he knows why. He knows I need the money to buy expensive medication for my father.
I feel ashamed, embarrassed even. What if he uses this against me? Damien seems nothing but kind, yet the gnawing doubt in my mind doesn't abate.
It’s like Ivy, my boss, always says - I'm too trustable, and someday that might come back to haunt me.
"I... I'm sorry," Damien says, turning to face me and noticing my distraught gaze. His broad shoulders hunch slightly as if the weight of my words is too heavy for him. "I didn't mean to pry. That was out of line."
My gaze flutters away from his blue eyes, too intense in this moment.
"It's okay," I murmur, shrugging.
"I think that's beautiful. I only hope to be as good as a father to Lucy," he says, his voice trailing off, vulnerable. "I know I haven't been that good."
I hate seeing Damien sad; the pain twinkling in his eyes wrenches my heart. I have an irresistible urge to console him, to wipe away the anguish. It feels strange. I'm not one to be so open with someone I've just met. I've always been outgoing but painfully shy when it comes to forging personal connections.
Yet something within me compels me to bridge the distance, to take his hand. His skin is rough beneath my touch, my heart echoing an unfamiliar yet welcome rhythm.
It's startling, this pull I feel towards Damien. I've known him for a few hours, yet I find myself envisioning a life with him and Lucy. It's a simple life, not a fairytale. No grand palaces or never-ending riches, just a good man, a loving family, and a life worth living.
My sudden movement surprises him, his eyes wide as he stares at my hand in his.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, pulling my hand away, but he holds on, a soft plea escaping his lips.
"Stay," he says, his voice shaky.
My breath catches in my throat, my pulse throbbing in the silence that follows.
"Okay," I manage to say, my voice just a whisper.
Just as Damien opens his mouth to say something, the kettle whistles, the shrill sound shattering the fragile atmosphere. I instinctively pull away, but his grip on my hand tightens.
His touch is firm yet tender, grounding. It's electrifying and terrifying all at once. A part of me wishes he'd never let go; another fears the consequences of this sudden connection.
And as the steam from the kettle dances between us, I find myself standing at the precipice of an unexpected journey, one that frightens yet excites me.
Because sometimes, it's not about knowing; it's about feeling. And oh, do I feel. It's like those romance novels I indulge in, those soppy love movies. I fell in love at first sight.
I watch him and can't help but wonder, could there possibly be a chance that his heart is pounding for me in the same way? The idea is foolish, I know. I barely know the man, after all.
I can almost hear my friends, Ivy and Kate, their voices echoing with reason, cautioning me. But there's something to be said for instinct, for gut feelings.
And my gut is screaming that this man... this beautiful, sweet, broken man... is my person and that he feels the same. I've fallen headfirst into an emotion I'd only ever dreamed of before now.
