Chapter 128 Better
It looked even better in motion.
“Such a pretty baby,” I grinned.
She blushed harder, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
I raised a finger, signaling for her to stay still, then walked back to the bag, pulling out her scrunchy before returning to her.
“Come here,” I murmured.
She obeyed, standing still as I gathered her curls and pulled them back, securing them into a neat bun. A few loose strands slipped free at the nape of her neck. I twirled one around my finger absentmindedly, my other hand resting on her hip, drawing slow circles against her skin.
She played with the buttons of my shirt, her fingers fidgeting slightly. “Something on your mind, tesoro?” I asked quietly.
She stilled. Her gaze lifted—but not to my eyes.
She stared at my forehead instead, avoiding me.
My expression hardened slightly. She was hiding something, I applied a little pressure to her hips, grounding her. “It’s okay,” I murmured.
She inhaled deeply. “Can… can we talk later?” she asked, her voice small, her fingers trembling slightly against my shirt.
My brows furrowed. "Speak to me, tesoro,” I urged, lifting her chin gently so she would look at me.
She didn’t.
Instead, her eyes filled with tears. One slipped down her cheek, then another. Panic hit me instantly, I pulled her into my arms without thinking, wrapping her tightly against me as her body shook. “Hey… hey,” I murmured softly, my hand moving up and down her back in slow, soothing motions. “It’s okay, love. I’ve got you.”
Her arms wrapped around my waist, clutching onto me as if I was the only thing holding her together. I pulled back slightly, wiping her tears with my thumb. “I- I’m just tired,” she whispered.
But there was something else beneath those words. Something she wasn’t saying, I saw it, I felt it. But I didn’t push, not now, not when she looked like this. I nodded slowly, “Okay.”
I pulled her back into my arms, pressing kisses all over her face until she broke into soft laughter, her tears fading into giggles. “Don’t worry. We’ll go shopping for your favorite things.”
She pulled back, her eyes lighting up. “Really?”
I hummed, nodding. Her smile widened instantly, bright and warm, and she leaned in to press a kiss against my jaw.
I pouted slightly, she laughed then kissed me properly. And in that moment nothing else mattered, not the past, not the fear in her eyes, not the things she wasn’t saying, just her, just us.
The ride back to the house was quiet, too quiet.
Jasmine sat curled slightly into herself in the passenger seat, her hands folded neatly on her lap, fingers fidgeting every now and then like she was trying to ground herself.
Her gaze remained fixed outside the window, watching the world blur past her, buildings and people moving like shadows she could not quite connect to. Damien kept stealing glances at her, every few seconds.
His grip on the steering wheel tightened unconsciously, his jaw ticking as he tried to read her, to understand what was going on behind those beautiful brown eyes of hers. She was here, safe, back with him but something felt off.
Different and it unsettled him more than he cared to admit. “You’re quiet,” he finally said, his voice softer than usual, careful, like he was afraid of saying the wrong thing.
Jasmine blinked, turning slightly to look at him, her lips parting before she forced a small smile. “I’m okay,” she said gently.
He didn’t believe that, not for a second but he didn’t push, not yet. Instead, his hand left the steering wheel for a brief moment, reaching across to rest on her thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’ve got you,” he murmured.
Her fingers stilled, then slowly, she placed her hand over his. “Thank you,” she whispered.
The rest of the drive passed in silence. The gates to the mansion opened automatically as Damien drove in, the familiar structure standing tall and imposing against the evening sky.
Jasmine’s breath slowed, she hadn’t been here in so long, too long. Damien parked the car and got out immediately, walking around to her side before she could even reach for the handle.
He opened the door for her, holding out his hand, she hesitated for a split second then took it. His grip tightened instantly, steady, grounding, like he was silently promising not to let her go again.
They walked inside together and the moment the doors opened, "Jasmine!” Richelle’s voice echoed through the hall.
Jasmine barely had time to react before Richelle rushed toward her, her heels clicking rapidly against the marble floor. The next second, Jasmine was pulled into a tight embrace.
Richelle held onto her like she was afraid she might disappear again. “I missed you so much,” Richelle breathed, her voice thick with emotion.
Jasmine stiffened for a moment, caught off guard, then slowly melted into the hug, her arms wrapping around Richelle in return. “I missed you too,” she whispered.
Damien watched them for a second, his chest tightening slightly before he looked away, picking up Jasmine’s bags. “I’ll take these upstairs,” he said quietly.
Neither of them protested. He turned and headed toward the staircase, his steps steady, but his mind anything but.
Back in the living room, Richelle pulled away just enough to look at Jasmine properly. Her eyes scanned her from head to toe, searching, assessing. “Are you okay?” she asked quickly, her hands moving to Jasmine’s arms, then her shoulders, like she was checking for injuries. “Are you hurt anywhere? Did they—”
“I’m okay,” Jasmine interrupted gently, placing her hand over Richelle’s.
“I’m really okay.”
Richelle’s lips trembled slightly. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I should have protected you. I should have seen it coming, I should have done something, I—”
“Richelle,” Jasmine said softly, shaking her head. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Richelle looked at her, eyes glistening. “But—”
“It wasn’t,” Jasmine repeated firmly.
There was no blame in her voice, no resentment, just quiet certainty. Richelle let out a shaky breath before pulling her into another hug.
This one softer, more careful. “I’m just glad you’re back,” she murmured.
Jasmine closed her eyes briefly, resting her chin on Richelle’s shoulder. "Me too.”
They moved to the couch, settling down side by side. Jasmine tucked her legs beneath her, her hands resting in her lap again, fingers absentmindedly twisting together. Richelle watched her closely. “You look… better,” she said carefully. “Healthier.”
Jasmine gave a small nod. "I feel better,” she replied.
That much was true, physically, somehow, emotionally…that was another story.