Chapter 85: CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE
Damon's POV
Winter’s evasion had always been infuriating, but now it was unbearable. Leaving her at the park felt like walking away from a ticking time bomb. Every step I took was heavier than the last, weighed down by the unanswered questions hanging in the air between us.
But what rattled me the most was Kai.
I know that whatever she's hiding could affect my seemingly budding relationship with him. That she isn't saying may not be as big as I am imagining, but still, the fear of the unknown is so much worse than facing reality.
Instead of going home, I drove to the gym. It wasn’t an escape—it was a release. The smell of sweat and the rhythmic pounding of basketballs against the court floor had always been my therapy.
I grabbed a ball and started shooting, each swish of the net chipping away at my frustration. But it wasn’t enough. The nagging doubt, the simmering anger—it stayed.
“Damon!”
I turned to see Coach James walking onto the court, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. He was holding a clipboard, but it was clear he hadn’t come here to talk drills.
“You look like you’re about to explode,” he said, crossing his arms.
“Maybe I am,” I muttered, dribbling the ball harder than necessary.
“Talk to me.”
I sighed, letting the ball roll away as I leaned against the wall. “It’s Winter. She’s hiding something about my son, and I have to know what it is soon"
Coach’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t say anything right away.
“I asked her about it,” I continued. “She shut me down, told me I wasn’t ready for the truth.”
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “What do you think the truth is?”
“I don't know what to think Coach"
Coach gave me a long look. “You’re asking the wrong question.”
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means maybe you should stop trying to figure out her reasons and start figuring out what you’re going to do when you get the answers,” he said.
“Because let me tell you, son, maybe she doesn't want to say the truth because it’s going to change everything.”
I nodded, the weight of his words settling in my chest. He was right. I needed to be ready—whether Winter told me the truth or not.
Winter's POV
The tension from the park lingered long after Damon left. I couldn’t stop replaying the look in his eyes—the determination, the hurt, the quiet demand for answers.
He wasn’t going to let this go.
Kai was still chattering about the playground when we got home, his excitement a welcome distraction from the storm brewing in my mind.
“Mommy, can we have pancakes for dinner?” he asked, tugging at my hand.
I forced a smile. “Of course, baby. Go wash your hands.”
While he ran off, I leaned against the kitchen counter, my head in my hands. The walls I’d built around my secret were starting to crack, and I didn’t know how much longer I could hold them up.
The sound of my phone vibrating broke the silence. I hesitated before picking it up, my heart sinking when I saw the name on the screen.
Sienna.
I stared at the message for a moment, bile rising in my throat
"You think you can hold on to him forever with the child?"
Damon POV
That evening, I stood in my living room, staring at the framed photo of my parents on the mantle.
My dad had been a hard man—strict, no-nonsense, but fair. He’d raised me to take responsibility for my actions, to own up to my mistakes.
Kai is mine; I’d already made the biggest mistake of my life by not being there for him.
I grabbed my phone and typed out a text to Winter.
I’m coming over. We need to talk.
No response.
I didn’t wait for one.
Winter's POV
When the knock came, my heart jumped into my throat.
Kai was asleep upstairs, and the last thing I wanted was for Damon to wake him up.
I opened the door, my pulse hammering in my ears. Damon stood there, his expression unreadable.
“We’re not doing this here,” I whispered, stepping outside and closing the door behind me.
“Then where the hell are we doing it, Winter?” he snapped, his voice low but sharp. “Because I’m done waiting.”
I crossed my arms, trying to keep my voice steady. “You can’t just show up like this.”
“Yes, I can,” he shot back. “You don’t get to keep pushing me away, Winter. Not when it’s about him.”
I froze. “Him?”
“Kai,” he said, his tone softening but his eyes never leaving mine. “It's about him, isn't it?”
The words hung in the air between us, heavy and unrelenting.
I opened my mouth to deny it, to say something—anything—but nothing came.
And in that silence, Damon’s expression shifted.
“I knew it,” he whispered, more to himself than to me.
“Damon…” My voice cracked, but he held up a hand, stopping me.
“No more lies, Winter,” he said, his voice shaking. “No more excuses. I want the truth.”
For the first time in years, I felt the walls I’d built come crashing down.
Beneath the surface, cracks take shape,
Silent tremors I cannot escape.
Each word spoken, each glance misplaced,
Leaves its mark on the fragile space.
I stand on the edge of what we’ve built,
Careful not to disturb the silt.
The past lies buried, but never still,
Its whispers sharp, its echoes chill.
Your presence is both balm and fire,
A contradiction I can’t retire.
You mend me with hands that once did harm,
A paradox that feels like a charm.
I want to trust, to let you in,
To believe the healing can begin.
But the fault lines tremble beneath my feet,
A warning that this could be defeat.
Still, I step forward, drawn to you,
Hoping we can make it through.
The ground may shake, the past may call,
But I choose to stand, to risk it all.