Breakdown

Breakdown
Chapter 56
DAMON;

I stepped out the door on shaky legs. And a very heavy heart. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe this was too fast for us?

But the glaring truth in front of me wasn’t hard to miss. She wasn’t certain.

I dared myself to take that bold step. Maybe I was too confident of what I thought we had. Of what I thought we'd managed to restore.

It was pretty obvious she’d entertained the idea of being with me, but never truly accepted it. She said she loved me — but love and trust weren’t the same thing.

I dragged a hand through my hair and leaned against the wall outside her door, letting out a bitter chuckle. My chest burned, every breath cutting like glass.

I pushed off the wall and walked down the hall, each step heavier than the last. My thoughts were everywhere — her face, her hesitation, the way her eyes softened when she said she loved me but followed it with a “but.”

There was always a but.

I didn’t blame her entirely. After what happened with Marcus, she had every reason to be cautious. Every reason to question things. But knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.

I drove toward the club on reflex, then changed my mind halfway—turning toward the one address I couldn’t forget, not even in my drunkest nights.

I parked two houses down and just sat there, staring at the familiar building across the street.

I sat in my car for a while, hating how weak I felt at the moment. Why couldn't I have the one thing I wanted? Why does happiness keep slipping through my fingers the second I reach for it?

I hadn’t cried in years —not since my parents got a divorce, not since I walked away from my family. Not since I lost my best friend.

Not since our breakup.

And right now, one sentence from her had broken me down completely. Again.

“She doesn’t trust me,” I whispered under my breath.

It echoed back like some cruel confirmation.

I clenched my fists and exhaled roughly, trying to shake off the ache in my chest. Maybe I’d rushed her. Maybe I just wanted to lock her down before life found another way to take her from me.

Still, the image of her standing there, holding the sheet around her, eyes full of tears, haunted me. I could tell she didn’t mean to hurt me. But she did.

And I didn’t know how to stop feeling like I’d just lost her all over again.

I made my way out of the car and walked toward the house. I didn’t feel like myself anymore. I didn’t even know what I was doing. I didn’t know which was more painful—the fact that I should’ve guessed she didn’t see a future with me, or the fact that she didn’t trust me. Or maybe it was the realization that I’d probably lost her forever.

I got to the doorpost and just stood there. My hand hovered over the doorbell, but before I could press it, the door opened.

The familiar-looking woman standing there froze, staring at me with wide, shocked eyes. She’d changed so much. So, so much.

“Damon?” she breathed.

My eyes watered almost instantly, and I could feel the flood building behind them. My vulnerability sliced open, raw and unguarded.

“Hi,” I managed, my voice thick. “Mom.”

She closed the distance between us immediately and pulled me into a tight hug, one that broke the last bit of composure I had left. For a long moment, I just stood there in her arms, letting the tears fall freely.

An hour later, I took the last sip of the chicken soup she’d made. The warmth filled my chest, though the ache beneath it still lingered. She sat beside me, watching quietly, and then reached for a napkin to wipe the corner of my mouth.

I sighed and took it from her. “I’m no longer a kid, Mother.”

“I know.” She smiled, her eyes soft. “You’re still my baby boy. I can’t believe how much you’ve grown.”

There was tensed silence for a while as I watched her absentmindedly tracing her fingers along the rim of her cup. I stared back at the finished bowl of soup before me, suddenly realizing how much I've really missed her.

It felt like everything went downhill ever since she left.

“You still love her, don’t you?”

I stared at her. “i never stopped.”

The period between the time she opened that front door to this moment still felt like a blur. In my need for her comfort, I'd spilled. Telling her everything.

My mother and I had a very close knit relationship, but I'd harbored a--what I'd called a childish grudge with her simply because she left us with him.

As much as I hated the fact that my father, who although was the one who cheated on her first, moved on really quick, she did as well. Few months later, we heard she'd gotten back with an ex of hers, and later married him.

Several years later and I dont think I had ever seen her look happier and full of life.

"Thanks for the food." I said. "And I'm really sorry for..."

"It's okay," she shushed me. "You have nothing to apologize for Damon. You're my baby and you're always welcome here anytime."

"No. I mean...I'm sorry for taking so long to come see you."

"I know. I know. Let's not talk about that now. What's more important right now is you."

She reached out, brushing her fingers through my hair like she used to when I was little. “People break, Damon. And sometimes, they take longer to heal than we expect. But you… you don’t give up on people. That’s your strength.”

I blinked hard, my throat closing up as I whispered, “And my weakness.

She smiled faintly, her hand still in my hair. “Maybe. But it’s a beautiful kind of weakness.”

I huffed a broken laugh, shaking my head. “It doesn’t feel beautiful. It feels like a curse. Like every time I get close to being happy, something comes along and ruins it. Every damn time.”

Her expression softened. “Life has a way of testing us in the same places we’ve been hurt before. It’s not punishment, Damon. It’s a reminder.”

“A reminder of what?” I asked, staring at the empty bowl like it held the answer I’d been missing.

“That you’re still human. That you still care,” she said quietly. “And that maybe… you’re meant to find someone who doesn’t run when it gets hard.”

I swallowed hard, my eyes stinging again. “She didn’t run. She just… didn’t believe me enough to stay with me. To say yes.”

“Then maybe she’s not ready to love the way you do.”

I leaned back, rubbing my temples. “I don’t even know what that means anymore. I’m tired, Mom. I keep trying to fix—situations—but it’s like the universe keeps reminding me I can’t fix what doesn’t want to be fixed. I genuinely thought we'd gone past this after baring ourselves to each other just few moments ago. Why then? Was my love—or my sincerity—not enough?”

She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she reached for my hand, her thumb brushing over the scars on my knuckles—tiny reminders of the nights I took out my pain on walls and bottles, and some fuckers who were unlucky enough to mess with me during those periods.

“You’ve always felt too much,” she said softly. “That’s both your gift and your undoing. But don’t shut down now. Don’t let one heartbreak make you forget who you are.”

I forced a smile, though it didn’t reach my eyes. “You make it sound easy.”

“It’s not,” she admitted. “But you don’t stop trying. You never did.”

For a moment, silence stretched between us. The clock ticked in the background, steady and soft. The house smelled of lavender and old memories.

I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed that smell. How much I’d missed her.

"You know, till this day, I still do not understand the real reason for that arranged marriage. Your father...." She sighed deeply, shaking her head like it was something she would rather not talk about.

"Anyways, this is a really messy situation. But what I do think is you should stay away for a while. Give her time. The wedding is supposed to happen in four days right? Allow her do what she has to do. Let her get the clarity she claims she needs. And make a choice herself."

I swallowed painfully. I had purposely kept the main information from her. About Marcus and Kimberly. I had no idea how she'd feel hearing that, because at the end of the day, I wasn't her only child. He's still her son, too.

But I kept shut. Because she was still right. Olivia's hesitation was a clear indication that she need more clarity. And I just have to wait it out for these few days and see how everything plays out.
"You've tried your best. Let her choose. And in four days, you'll get your answer."

Four days. That's all I had. To see if she'd choose me back.