Chapter 17
Julie POV
I stared after him as he drove away, my mind racing. Did he just say he loved me? No, he couldn’t possibly mean it. It had to be some cruel joke or a moment of insanity–definitely a moment of insanity, because he couldn’t possibly be serious. But the way he said it…. his voice wasn’t teasing or playful. He was serious. And something about the way he said it made my heart skip a beat.
After staring blankly for a split second, wondering what to say or even feel, I pulled myself together and suddenly felt angry. How dare he say something like that and just drive away? I wasn’t going to let him leave without giving him a piece of my mind.
I quickly got into my car and drove after him. He hadn’t gone far, he was parked at the side of an alleyway. I got out of my car and walked over to his. Through the window, I saw him gripping his hair in frustration. Angrily, I opened his car door, and as he turned to face me, I slapped him.
“You love me?” I scoffed. “And how exactly is that supposed to be my problem? Do you think saying something like that is supposed to make my heart flutter? Or that I should be excited because Damien loves me?”
Julie, you don’t understand…” he said.
No, you
don’t understand,” I snapped, cutting him off. I don’t care about your feelings. You need to kill whatever emotions you think you have for me because this is business, Damien. You came to me for help, remember? You needed my help because you wanted to venture into the fashion world. You begged me for months before I accepted, and now you spill this nonsense to me? I’ve been working tirelessly to make this project a success, and I won’t let your… petty feelings ruin it.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but I held up a hand. “Save it. Tomorrow morning, nine o’clock. Be there. You don’t have a choice, and
no excuses.”
I turned and walked away. As I got into my car, I couldn’t help but replay in my mind what he said to me. Something about the way he said it reminded me of Alex.
The next morning, I arrived at the café ten minutes early. I had barely gotten enough sleep, tossing and turning in bed as I replayed Damien’s words over and over again. “I love you” I just couldn’t get it off my mind
Shaking my head, I focused on the agenda for the meeting. He needed to know I was serious about keeping things professional
By nine–fifteen, Damien still hadn’t shown up. By nine–thirty, there was still no sign of him or any text. By nine–forty–five, he still hadn’t shown up, and I doubted he would.
1 grabbed my bag as I stood up, pulling out my phone to give him a piece of my mind.
“If you’re not going to take this seriously, Damien, then maybe we should reconsider-
A voice interrupted my typing.
Julie, Damien said.
I looked up and saw him walking into the cafe. I couldn’t help but notice the way he looked his face was pale, there was a blister on his lips, and his shirt was barely ironed.
“You’re late,” I said.
“I know I’m sorry,” he muttered, as he sat on a chair across from me. I wasn’t feeling too good.”
I wanted to snap back–if he wasn’t feeling well, why didn’t he cancel the meeting? Clearly, he wasn’t in a good state, and I doubted he had eaten or taken any medication. But I bit my tongue; it wasn’t my place to care. The dark circles under his eyes and the sweat on his forehead made it obvious he wasn’t feeling well. He was clearly burning up. He should have canceled the meeting.
Instead, I tried not to look at him, so that I wouldn’t let my concern show. “Let’s just get started,” I said as I pulled out my notes.
Damien nodded, but his usual charm was absent. No sly jokes, no compliments, no teasing remarks about the way I looked. He barely said anything at all, nodding occasionally and scribbling notes half–heartedly.
I stole another glance at him. His hand trembled slightly as he reached for his water, and his fever seemed to be getting worse.
1/2
10:02 PM P
Chapter 17
“Damien,” I said, but stopped myself. I wasn’t going to show concern. This was business, not personal.
As the meeting dragged on, it became harder to ignore his condition. He was clearly burning up with a fever, and his responses were slow, almost absent–minded.
“Are you even paying attention?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“Then act like it.” I snapped, angry at the fact that I was concerned about him
The meeting finally ended, and I gathered my things quickly. Part of me wanted to stay and talk to him, or even ask if he had eaten, if he was on medication, or why he hadn’t just canceled the meeting instead of coming in this state. But I brushed it off. He was a grown man. If he was sick, he could handle himself.
I stood up to leave, staring at him one last time. Try not to be late next time,” I said.
He nodded as he attempted to stand, but he collapsed on the floor.
“Damien!” I shouted as I rushed to his side, first checking his pulse and if he was breathing. Thankfully, he was. His face was pale, and he seemed to be in pain.
Can you hear me?” I asked but he barely responded.
“Somebody please call an ambulance!” I yelled at the top of my voice.
As I knelt closer to him, rubbing his hand to try and reduce the rate at which he was burning up, I couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. I knew he wasn’t feeling well, and I ignored it, pretended not to care, and now he was lying unconscious in front of me.
“Damien, I whispered. “Come on, wake up.”
But he didn’t respond.
Olivia Harris is an emerging author celebrated for her captivating romantic and steamy DaisyNovel. With a talent for crafting deep emotional connections and fiery chemistry between her characters, Olivia’s stories offer readers an escape into worlds filled with passion, intrigue, and heart-stopping drama.