Chapter 7: What I Came Back For

Damien's hand remained firmly over mine, trapping my fingers against the cold glass table.

His breathing had become uneven.

Mine hadn't.

I looked down at his hand before lifting my eyes back to his face.

"Move."

"Not until you calm down," he replied.

"I'm calmer than I've been in months."

For a second, he didn't answer.

His grip loosened ever so slightly.

I slipped my hand free without struggling.

"You think I'm angry," I said quietly.

"I'm not."

"I'm finished."

Those two words landed harder than any scream.

Damien stared at me as though he no longer recognized the woman standing before him.

"Finished?"

"Yes."

"You don't get to decide that alone."

"Actually... I do."

He laughed once.

It wasn't amusement.

It was disbelief.

"You walked out yesterday."

"You ignored every one of my calls."

"Now you come back and tell me our marriage is over?"

"No."

"I came back for something else."

His brows drew together.

"What?"

I walked around him without waiting for permission.

He followed.

"Vivian."

I ignored him and climbed the staircase.

His footsteps echoed behind mine.

"Answer me."

"What exactly did you come back for?"

I stopped outside the master bedroom.

The door remained exactly as I'd left it twenty-four hours ago.

Only now it felt unfamiliar.

Like entering a hotel room that once belonged to someone else.

I pushed the door open.

The faint scent of cedar still lingered despite yesterday's spill.

I crossed directly to the walk-in wardrobe.

Damien remained standing near the doorway.

Watching.

Waiting.

I reached toward the highest shelf.

Behind a row of winter coats sat a small wooden box.

Dark walnut.

Barely larger than a jewellery case.

I carefully lifted it down.

"That's what you came back for?" Damien asked.

"Yes."

"What's inside?"

"Something that belongs to me."

I held the box against my chest.

He stepped closer.

"Open it."

"No."

"Vivian."

"It's mine."

"Everything inside this house—"

"Don't."

I interrupted him for the first time.

"Don't repeat that sentence again."

"Because it stopped being true the moment you decided I wasn't your wife anymore."

Silence filled the room.

Damien looked at the wooden box.

Then back at me.

"Does it have something to do with Elias?"

I almost smiled.

"You really don't know me at all."

"Then tell me."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because every time I've tried to tell you something important..."

"Someone else spoke first."

His jaw tightened.

"Colette lied."

"Repeatedly."

"And you believed her."

"You never trusted me enough to ask twice."

He opened his mouth.

Closed it again.

There wasn't an answer.

Only silence.

I carried the wooden box toward the bed.

Unlocked the tiny brass clasp.

Inside rested three objects.

A silver necklace.

A folded envelope.

And an old velvet pouch.

Damien instinctively leaned forward.

"Don't."

My voice stopped him.

"These aren't yours to see."

I removed the necklace first.

A simple silver chain.

At the end hung a tiny emerald pendant.

The very first piece of jewellery I had ever designed.

Nathaniel had bought it from me for one pound.

Not because it was worth anything.

Because he wanted me to believe my work had value.

I wrapped the necklace carefully in tissue paper.

Next came the velvet pouch.

Inside were half a dozen loose emeralds.

Untouched for three years.

They had been waiting for hands that no longer belonged to a jeweller.

Until now.

Finally...

I picked up the envelope.

My fingers rested against the sealed paper for several long seconds.

"What is it?" Damien asked softly.

"A promise."

"From who?"

"My brother."

His expression shifted.

"Nathaniel?"

"He gave it to me the day before he died."

"I've never opened it."

"Why not?"

"Because I was afraid whatever was inside would become real the moment I read it."

Damien looked genuinely confused.

"Then why take it now?"

I met his eyes.

"Because I'm finally ready."

The room fell silent again.

He looked at the envelope.

Then at me.

"Vivian..."

"Don't ask."

"I wasn't going to."

"Good."

I closed the wooden box.

Picked it up.

Walked toward the bedroom door.

Damien stepped into my path.

"You're still leaving."

"Yes."

"Where will you go?"

"Somewhere I can breathe."

"You don't have anywhere."

"You'd be surprised."

"Elias?"

"Again?"

I sighed quietly.

"It's amazing."

"After everything..."

"He's still the first person you think about."

"Not your wife."

"Not your marriage."

"Not why I left."

"Only him."

For the first time since our wedding...

Damien had nothing to say.

I walked past him.

This time...

He didn't try to stop me.

As I reached the hallway, Eleanor's sharp voice echoed from downstairs.

"Damien?"

"The Sterling family is here."

"They say it's urgent."

I paused for only a heartbeat.

Sterling.

The name stirred something old.

Something buried with Nathaniel's accident.

Without another word, I tightened my grip around the wooden box and slowly descended the staircase.