Chapter 133 Lighter

Chapter 133 Lighter
On the ride back, I leaned my head against the window. The city didn’t feel as suffocating anymore. I was still tense.

Still aware. Still… healing. But my chest didn’t feel as hollow. I exhaled slowly, closing my eyes.
For the first time in a long time… I felt like I might be okay.

~

We stepped out of the car together, and the cool evening air brushed against my skin. I clutched the shopping bags close, almost like they were armor, something to hold onto as I walked toward the house.

The door opened before we even reached it.
Damien. My breath caught, he stood there like he had been waiting, like he always did, his presence filling the doorway, grounding and overwhelming all at once. His eyes immediately found mine, scanning me, searching for something.

I saw relief on his face. “You’re back,” he said, his voice low, controlled, but I could hear the tension beneath it.

“I told you we would be,” Richelle teased lightly, stepping past him with a grin. “Relax, Damien. I didn’t lose her.”

His gaze never left me. “I know,” he said, but it sounded like he was convincing himself.

I shifted my weight slightly, suddenly hyper aware of everything. Of my body, my scars, the way his eyes lingered just a second too long, not in judgment, never in judgment, but in something deeper. Something that made my chest ache.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, stepping closer.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” he pressed, softer now.

“The movie was… funny,” I said, my lips twitching into a smile. “And I got clothes.”

His eyes flicked to the bags in my hands, then back to my face. “Good.”

He reached out slowly, like I might disappear if he moved too fast, and brushed his fingers against my cheek warmly “You look… lighter,” he murmured.

My throat tightened. “I feel… a little lighter,” I admitted.

That was enough for him. His shoulders relaxed just slightly, and he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.

“I’m proud of you,” he whispered.

Something inside me broke at that.

Not in a painful way like before but in a way that made my eyes sting and my chest swell all at once.

Richelle cleared her throat dramatically. “Okay, lovebirds, can we move inside before I start crying too?”

I laughed softly, wiping quickly at my eyes.
We stepped into the house together, the warmth wrapping around me instantly. It still felt strange being here, still felt like I was stepping into a memory rather than my present, but it didn’t feel as suffocating as before.
It felt… possible.

Damien took the bags from my hands without a word. “I’ll take these upstairs.”

“I can—”

“You won’t,” he cut in gently, his tone firm but not harsh. “Sit. Rest.”

I hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”

He lingered for a second, like he wanted to say something more, then turned and headed up the stairs.

I watched him go. Richelle nudged me lightly. “He was worried sick, you know.”

“I know,” I whispered.

“And you didn’t even text him yourself.”

“I was trying to focus on not short circuiting,” I said quietly.

She smiled. “Fair enough.”

We moved into the living room, settling onto the couch. I tucked my legs under me, my fingers playing with the hem of my dress again.
The silence stretched for a moment, not uncomfortable, just… thoughtful.

“You did really well today,” Richelle said softly.

“I almost didn’t,” I admitted. “At the store… I thought I was going to run out.”

“But you didn’t.”

I shook my head. “No.”

She reached over, taking my hand and squeezing it gently. “That matters.”

I looked down at our hands, then back at her.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.

“For what?”

“For not letting me give up on myself”

Her expression softened. “Always.”

Footsteps echoed from the stairs. Damien.
I felt it before I saw him. He walked back into the room, his gaze immediately finding me again, like some invisible thread tied us together.

“Everything’s in your room,” he said.

I nodded. “Thank you.”

He moved closer, standing just in front of me. For a moment, he didn’t speak, just looked at me, really looked at me, like he was memorizing every detail.

Richelle rolled her eyes. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

He glanced at her. “Thank you.”

She smirked. “Wow. Mark the calendar.”

I let out a small laugh.

Damien’s gaze softened at the sound. “There it is,” he murmured.

“What?”

“That laugh.”

My cheeks warmed slightly.

“I missed it,” he added quietly.

Something fluttered in my chest. “I… I think it’s coming back,” I said.

He stepped closer, crouching slightly so we were at eye level. “Good,” he said. “Because I plan on hearing it a lot more.”

I smiled. A real one this time and for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel forced.
It felt like me.

Richelle stood up, stretching. “Alright, I’m going to leave you two before this turns into something I don’t want to witness."

“Richelle,” I laughed.

“What?” she grinned. “I have boundaries.”

She grabbed her bag, heading toward the door. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will,” I said.

“Both of you, you know where my room is" she added, pointing between us before walking out.

The door closed behind her, leaving the room quieter. Just me and him. The silence wasn’tsuffocating, it was… soft. Damien stood there for a moment, then reached for my hand, pulling me gently to my feet.

“Come,” he said.

“Where?”

“Upstairs.”

My heart skipped, just a little but I followed him anyway.