Chapter 27 The love I couldn’t reach
Damian's POV
I knew something was wrong before I was told.
I didn’t need the reports or rumors. Isla just stopped moving around me.
She still passed me in the halls. She still answered when spoken to.
She still did everything expected of a wife who hasn’t been dismissed.
But the space between us had grown quiet and wide, like a room that once held furniture and now only echoed.
Her distance wasn’t loud, it was precise. And that was worse.
I found her in the sitting room that evening, seated by the window with a book she hasn’t turned a page in minutes.
The light outside was fading, leaving her face half-shadowed. She was calm on her face, but I knew deep down, she was absent minded.
“You didn’t come to dinner,” I said.
She didn’t flinch or look up right away.
“I wasn’t hungry.”
You used to be, I almost said.
But I didn’t. I closed the door behind me. Not to trap her, but just to make the moment unavoidable.
“You’ve been leaving early,” I continued. “And coming back late.”
“I was working,” she replied.
“Yes,” I said. “You do.”
She finally looked at me then. Her eyes were steady. Not defiant or pleading… just resolved.
“You didn’t used to care about my schedule,” she said.
That landed harder than an accusation.
“I care now.”
She gave a small smile that wasn’t really a smile. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”
I stepped closer, slowly, as if I was approaching something that might run away if I walked fast.
“I’m trying to talk to you.”
“You’re trying to correct what already broke,” she said.
I exhaled through my nose. “Then help me understand where it broke.”
Her fingers tightened around her book. “You stood there and let her humiliate me.”
“I didn’t…”
“You did,” she cut in quietly. “You didn’t say anything. You didn’t look at me. You didn’t even pretend.”
My head replayed the scene. Lucia’s voice. Isla’s stillness, and my own silence.
“I misjudged that moment,” I said.
She nodded once. “I know.”
That surprised me.
“And yet,” she added. “You still chose it.”
The words sat between us, heavy and undeniable.
“You didn’t defend me,” she said. “And I stopped waiting for you.”
My chest twisted. “You didn’t give me a chance.”
She stood, closing the book and setting it aside. “You had many.”
She moved toward the door. I stepped into her path without thinking.
“Is this about him?” I asked.
She looked at me, just once. And that was answer enough.
“You’re choosing him again,” I said.
“I’m choosing myself,” she replied. “For once.”
I laughed under my breath. Not a mocking one. A frustrated one. “You think working under him is freedom?”
“I think breathing without fear is,” she said.
Fear. I didn’t know she had always carried that word for me.
“You don’t know what he wants,” I said.
She then finally met my eyes. Really met them. “Neither did I know what you wanted.”
That hurt. I reached for her wrist. I didn’t grab or pull, I just stopped her from leaving.
She didn’t pull away, and that made it worse.
“You’re my wife,” I said.
Her voice softened. “That’s not enough if you don’t treat me like one.”
“I didn’t touch you,” I said. “I gave you space.”
“You gave me distance,” she corrected. “There’s a difference.”
I released her. She walked to the door again and this time, I didn't stop her.
Before she left, she paused.
“I’m not leaving you,” she said. “I’m just no longer waiting for you to notice when I need you.”
The door closed behind her.
The house felt larger without her presence. It felt colder than it used to.
I went to my office. Closed the door. Sat behind the desk and stared at nothing.
I was used to thinking that restraint made me strong and that distance kept control, and also thought that silence was discipline.
But I was wrong, from the beginning.
She wasn’t drifting away, she was walking.
And worse, she never looked back.
I pressed my palm flat on the desk. Lucia’s voice echoed in my head. My brother’s calm presence. And how Isla's posture changed she spoke of work.
I had already lost ground without even realizing the battle had already started.
I didn’t want to fight my brother. But I would not lose my wife by standing still.
Not again. I picked up the phone.
“Track her movements,” I said to my security head. “Not to confine. Just to know.”
A pause. “Sir?”
“I won’t be surprised again.”
I ended the call. I wasn’t going to force anything, not yet.
I was going to reclaim her like a husband does.
I was going to give her my attention and time.
If she was slipping from my orbit, then I had failed to pull hard.
I didn’t put in the effort. And when we speak next time…
I wouldn’t be silent, I will prove to her that I was worth loving too.