Damon's POV
The drive back to the police station with Ophelia was quiet. My mind kept replaying Maya's reaction to my proposal. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, frustration bubbling inside me. The boxes Ophelia had brought would be safer to examine at the station rather than at home where Maya might see them.
"You're still bothered that Maya didn't accept your proposal, aren't you?" Ophelia broke the silence, her eyes studying my tense expression.
I exhaled sharply. "Yes. Why can't she see this would solve everything?"
Ophelia shook her head, a knowing smile on her face. "Damon, your strategy might be logical, but your execution was terrible. Women don't want practical proposals. We want romance, passion, a declaration of undying love. Not 'Let's get married to stop your crazy mother from auctioning you off to someone else.'"
"But she knows I love her," I muttered, pulling into the police station parking lot. "Shouldn't that be enough?"
