Damien arrived at his apartment and found his grandfather, Don, sitting in the living room.
"Grandpa? What are you doing here?" Damien asked, surprised.
"I should ask you the same thing," Don replied, his voice strained. "Instead of going to the manor and spending time with your fiancée, you're in this empty apartment."
"Do you seriously think I'll do something just because you tell me to? I can't marry her, I'm in love with someone else." Damien retorted.
Don glared at him, his face reddening. "Are you trying to piss me off?" he fumed.
After a heated exchange, Don's heavy breathing grew ragged. He suddenly fell back onto the sofa, his hand clutching his chest. Damien panicked, immediately calling Marco. Together, they rushed his grandfather to the hospital. Don had clogged arterie so he needed a surgery right away.
Sitting in the hospital hallway with Marco, Damien was beside himself with worry. The image of his grandfather's face, red with anger, was seared into his mind. He was so caught up in his own rebellion that he had pushed Don too far. He vowed to himself that he would never make his grandfather angry again. From now on, he would listen.
Two hours later, his friend Vance, who was Don's surgeon, came out of the operating room. "The surgery went well," he said. "The patient has been moved to intensive care."
The next morning, Don woke to find Damien asleep in the chair beside him, exhausted from the long night. Moved by the sight, Don reached out and gently patted Damien's head. Damien woke immediately. Seeing his grandfather awake and with tears in his eyes, he said, "I'm sorry. I'll listen to you from now on, Grandpa." Don just nodded, too emotional to speak.
Just then, the housekeeper Lee entered with Penelope, who was carrying soup and bags of food. "Grandpa, how are you feeling?" Penelope asked, her voice serious.
Don smiled at her. "Better now that I see my beautiful granddaughter." They chatted warmly while Damien remained quiet, the weight of his guilt immense.
Damien stayed at the hospital, accompanying his grandfather for a few days, and then Don was discharged. Damien moved back to the Sterling manor, only to find that Penelope was also now living there. He wasn't happy about it, but he told himself it was for Don. He would try his best to be civil with Penelope. His only goal was to please his grandfather.
Sarah was sitting in her room, thinking about Damien. She hadn't seen him for a week, and her texts had gone unanswered. She worried, a knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach. Is he okay? Did something happen to him? During his absence, she was gradually learning how to walk again. Her leg seemed to be getting better, but she still felt a lot of pain.
Chloe and Caroline had come to the hospital a few times but were denied access. Following Damien's instructions, the doctor explained that due to Sarah's fragile mental state, he felt the need to minimize any potential stress that might hinder her recovery. Chloe and Caroline, pretending to be understanding, agreed.
Damien tried his best to be civil around Penelope, all an act to please his grandfather. Don seemed overjoyed by his effort. Meanwhile, Damien's thoughts were consumed by Sarah, wondering how she was doing. He saw her text asking if he was alright, but he was so focused on his grandfather's recovery that he never replied. Now, a wave of guilt washed over him.
He found himself walking the sterile corridors of the hospital, a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach. He needed to see Sarah, to reassure himself that she was alright. A question lingered in his mind: What if she remembers? If she finds her past, will she still need me? The thought was a bittersweet mix of hope and a strange sense of loss. He remembered the feel of her skin beneath his lips, the way her eyes had looked at him. He knew he was doing something he had never done before: he was fighting for a woman who didn't even know herself.
He paused outside her door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open.
Sarah was sitting on the edge of the bed, her injured leg stretched out. She was trying to stand, her face etched with concentration and a flicker of pain. She wobbled precariously, her hand reaching for a nearby chair for support.
"Sarah," Damien said softly, his voice filled with concern.
She turned, her eyes widening as she saw him. A small, hesitant smile touched her lips. "Damien," she whispered.
He rushed to her side, instinctively reaching out to steady her. "Careful," he said gently. "You don't want to overdo it."
Sarah took a tentative step, then another. Her face was flushed with effort, but a flicker of determination shone in her eyes. "I… I want to try," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I need to… to walk again."
Damien watched her, his heart aching with a mixture of admiration and concern. He knew how important this was for her, how desperate she was to regain some semblance of normalcy.
"Let me help you," he said, gently placing his arm around her waist for support.
Together, they took a few steps, Sarah leaning heavily on Damien, her injured leg dragging slightly. She stumbled, her breath catching in her throat.
"It's okay," Damien murmured, tightening his grip on her. "Just take it slow."
They continued, a silent, rhythmic dance of trust and support. With each small step, a tiny spark of triumph flickered in her eyes. After a few minutes, Sarah stopped, her breathing ragged. "I… I need to rest," she said, her voice weak.
Damien helped her back to the bed, gently easing her down. He sat beside her, his gaze filled with concern.
"You're doing great, Sarah," he said softly. "Just take it one step at a time."
Sarah looked at him, her eyes filled with a profound sadness. "I… I feel so lost," she whispered. "I still don't remember anything, and my leg isn't getting better no matter how hard I try."
Damien reached out and took her hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I know," he said softly. "But you're not alone, Sarah. I'll be here for you, as long as you need me."
She gently touched his cheek. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible... "But you don't have to come often, I know you're busy..." He knew why she was saying that, after all they haven't seen each other for a week and he forgot to reply to her messages... "Sarah, I'm sorry..." She could feel the regret in his voice... Then she said "It's okay, I'm just happy that you're fine. I was scared something happened to you. I was scared I'll never see you again." Tears fell down her face,
Before Damien could respond, Sarah leaned forward and he instinctively met her halfway. She hugged him firmly and rested her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. The simple, comforting hug spoke volumes. In that moment, surrounded by the sterile quiet of the hospital room, a fragile trust bloomed between them, a silent promise to face the unknown together.
After the hug, she pulled back. "Where have you been? I was so worried. I texted and called, but you never replied."
Damien cupped her cheek. "I'm sorry. My grandfather had a surgery. I had to take care of him."
Sarah's face softened with concern. "He had a surgery? Is he okay now?"
Damien smiled faintly. "He's better now. He's my only family left."
He then found himself telling her about his past, his strained relationship with his grandfather, and the burden of his grandfather's expectations. Sarah was the first person he had shared his pain with, and that vulnerability was a testament to his trust in her. The hours passed without them even noticing. They talked and then listened to each others heartbeat in silence, and in that fleeting moment, they held onto each other like a lifeline.
Damien eventually stood to leave. "I have to go now. Remember to be a good girl and focus on your recovery." He gently smiled. "I have something to do so I probably won't be able to visit you in a while, but when everything's settled, I'll come to find you." He kissed her cheek.
"Damien… I'll wait for you to come back," she said, her voice full of quiet certainty.
He left with an unexplainable sadness in his heart, and Sarah stayed there, smiling warmly.
When Damien arrived at the manor, the living room was filled with cheerful chatter. Penelope was looking at dresses in magazines with her mother. Sam stood by the window, his face a usual mask of indifference. Don and Thomas were discussing the engagement.
Penelope, with a magazine in her hand, ran toward him. "Damien, what do you think about this gown for the engagement?" she asked. "It's the latest fashion. This tailored suit would be a perfect match for my gown."
Damien's gaze remained distant. He simply said, "You should hire the best engagement planner. I'm not good at these things." He moved toward a sofa to sit down.
Sam watched Damien's clear lack of interest, a cynical smirk playing on his lips. If he's putting this much effort into the engagement, I can only imagine his effort in the marriage.
Don, seeing Penelope's disappointment, interjected. "My dear, we men know nothing about these things. Don't take it to heart," he said with a warning glance at Damien.
The group then moved to the dining room, where they talked about the engagement and later, about business. Damien held his fork, his thoughts consumed by Sarah. He wished he could run off with her to a place where no one could find them, a place where their connection wasn't an act of rebellion, but a simple fact of life.