James's voice came out low. It was scratchy. Sleep still clung to it, like it had crawled up from deep in his throat. The sound felt slow. Heavy. Tired. But there was something else in it too. Something uncertain.
"You…" he started.
But that was all he said.
The rest got stuck. He didn't finish. He just froze. Like his brain had short-circuited. His eyes stayed locked on Jenny. But his mind was spinning.
His heart raced. His thoughts crashed into each other. Last night was still alive in his body. He could still feel her. Her touch. Her breath. But now, reality was crashing in.
He couldn't let this happen. He told himself that. Over and over. He couldn't go further.
Jenny didn't move away. She looked right at him. Her eyes were steady. Bold. She didn't flinch. Instead, she stepped even closer. Her body was warm. Her presence was strong.
She wanted to kiss him.
Everything in her screamed for that kiss. It wasn't just desire. It was more. It was a plea. It was a risk. She was asking him to meet her halfway.
But the kiss didn't come.
James reached out. He put his hand on her shoulder. It wasn't rough. But it was firm. His palm was warm. His fingers curled slightly. And then—he pushed her away.
Not hard. But enough.
It hurt. Pushing her away hurt. But he still did it. He had to.
"Don't," he said.
Just one word. But it landed like a weight between them.
His voice was still hoarse. But now it was cold too. Clipped. Final.
Jenny froze. Her heart sank.
She didn't expect that.
"Why?" she whispered.
Her voice shook. It sounded small. Broken.
James looked away. He couldn't meet her eyes. His gaze landed somewhere over her shoulder. Anywhere but her.
"We can't," he said.
Just three words. But each one cut deep.
Then he lay back. He turned away. He put space between them.
It wasn't much. But it felt like miles.
He shut his eyes. He didn't move again.
Jenny stared at him. His profile was sharp in the dim light. Cold. Distant. Like a stranger.
She sat up slowly. She slid out of bed. Every movement felt heavy.
James didn't stop her.
He didn't say a word.
She walked back to her room. Her feet moved like they didn't belong to her.
She climbed into her bed. The sheets were cold. Her skin still remembered his warmth. But now it felt like a lie.
She wrapped the blanket tight.
Her mind spun. Her chest ached. Her tears came quietly.
Sleep didn't come.
Time passed. The night faded. Morning light crept in. Then afternoon.
Still, she lay there.
Then came the sound of an engine. A car pulling away.
Her breath caught.
He was gone.
He had left.
Not a word. Not a goodbye.
She felt hollow. Empty.
Finally, sleep dragged her under. No dreams. Just black.
——————————————————————————————————————————
When she woke again, the sky outside was orange. Sunset.
Her stomach ached. Hunger.
She sat up slowly. Her eyes were puffy. Her head throbbed. The room glowed with warm light, but she didn't feel it.
She put on her robe. Slid into her slippers.
She went downstairs.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
Then she saw him.
Damon.
He sat on the couch. His body slouched slightly. His head leaned back.
Her steps stopped. Her breath caught.
He turned. Their eyes met.
He smiled.
He looked tired. Jetlagged. There were faint shadows under his eyes. But his gaze was warm.
He stood up.
He walked over. He looked happy to see her. He opened his arms.
Jenny froze.
Then, her body moved before her mind.
She stepped to the side. Just a little.
Enough.
Damon's arms paused. His smile faltered. Just for a second.
He looked confused. Hurt.
She didn't speak right away.
Then she smelled it.
Perfume.
Sweet. Floral. Not his usual scent.
It clung to his jacket.
Her stomach flipped.
Her mind raced. Where had he been? Who had he seen?
She didn't ask.
Instead, she turned her head.
"Don't," she said.
Her voice was dry. Quiet. Hoarse.
"You just got back. You haven't showered. You're dirty."
It was an excuse. A weak one.
She knew it. He probably knew it too.
She avoided his eyes.
Damon dropped his arms.
His face went blank. Too smooth.
Jenny forced a smile.
"You must be tired," she said.
"Go shower first. Maria made dinner."
He nodded.
But something had changed.
She felt it.
Jenny went upstairs to take a shower too. She changed into fresh clothes. Then she walked back down slowly.
Damon was sitting on the couch and looking down at his phone. The screen's soft light lit up his face. It made his features stand out even more—sharp, handsome, calm.
He was smiling. Not just any smile. It was warm. It was real. He looked completely lost in whatever he was reading.
He didn't even notice her standing there.
Jenny hadn't seen that kind of smile in a long time. Not from him. Not for her.
Her chest tightened. It wasn't sharp pain. Just this dull, prickly feeling, like a fine needle pressing into her skin. It didn't hurt, but it numbed her. A sour feeling rose in her throat.
It's her, she thought. It has to be that woman.
Her eyes dimmed, just for a second.
Damon suddenly looked up. The smile disappeared. In its place was his usual soft, polite one—the one he always gave her.
He moved quickly, almost too quickly. He turned the phone over and placed it face-down on the couch. The motion was casual. Smooth. But Jenny saw right through it.
He stood up. He walked over to her. His steps were steady. His face looked calm, even warm.
"Dinner ready?" he asked.
His voice was gentle. It sounded like he cared. But to Jenny, it felt flat. Empty.
Then the phone rang.
Loud. Sharp. Jarring. The sound filled the quiet room. It broke the stillness like glass shattering.
Damon stopped walking.
Jenny saw the flash of panic on his face. It was gone in a heartbeat.
He looked at the phone. Then he picked it up.
"Hello?" he said.
A woman's voice answered. It was high. Soft. Sweet. Flirty. Intimate.
Jenny didn't hear the words. But she didn't need to. That voice was enough.
It stabbed straight through her.
Damon quickly ended the call. He turned back to her.
"I'm sorry, babe," he said. His tone was soft. His eyes looked sorry. But there was something else. A flicker of guilt. And something even deeper—helplessness.
"There's a last-minute dinner," he said. "With that big client I told you about. It's important. I have to go."
He stepped closer. It looked affectionate. But it didn't feel that way.
It felt… distant.
"You don't have to wait up," he added. "I'll be late."
Jenny looked at him. She gave him a perfect smile. Calm. Understanding. Not a crack in sight.
"Okay," she said.
Her voice was quiet. Smooth. Too smooth.
She kept the smile on her face.
"Work's important," she said softly.
She watched him walk away. His steps were fast. Almost hurried. He didn't even look back.
The door opened.
He was gone.
Silence wrapped around her.
Only her own breathing remained. Soft. Steady. Hollow.
Her face fell. Quiet disappointment took over.
She bit her lip.
Late? she thought. He's probably not coming home at all.
She stood there.
She didn't move.
The room felt frozen. Still. Heavy.
Her thoughts drifted. Far away.
And she just stood there, completely alone.
She thought she could escape.Leave behind the lies, the pain, the betrayal.But some nights don't let you go so easily.
When the darkness closes in, who will be there to catch you?And when trust breaks, can it ever be rebuilt?
Her world was spinning faster—and someone unexpected was holding on tight.