Chapter 67 MY MEMORY.
\~~~SERENA.
I walked back to the bed slowly, like my legs had forgotten how to carry weight. I sat down and let my shoulders slump, then buried my head in my palms. My fingers pressed into my temples as if I could squeeze sense out of my thoughts.
Nothing was adding up.
Damien was hiding something from me, and it was as clear as day. The way he dodged questions, and the flicker in his eyes when I pushed too hard all screamed secrets.
The man I knew now seemed different from the one I'd first met. Back then, he was charming, steady, and like a rock I could lean on. But now? He seemed... darker? Like there were rooms inside him he kept locked, and tonight, I had accidentally touched the door.
No, no way. I shook my head against my hands. That was unfair, Damien was a good person. Deep down, I knew that.
He'd done so much for me in just a month of knowing him. He pulled me out of my mess with Ryan, made me feel safe, and desired. The honeymoon, and the way he held me through the nights couldn't all be a lie. Could it?
I raised my head when I felt his presence in front of me. The air shifted, warmer, and heavier with his scent.
He was kneeling there, right at my feet, his large hand gently taking mine in his. His touch was soft, and careful, like he was handling something fragile.
"Serena, don't worry," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "Nothing bad happened. I promise."
I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to.
His thumb brushed over my knuckles, and fresh tears slipped down my cheeks. He reached up, wiping them away with the pad of his finger, so tender it hurt. Then, his hand moved to my hair, caressing the strands, tucking a loose one behind my ear. I leaned into it for a second, craving the comfort. He leaned forward, his breath warm on my skin, and pressed a kiss to the corner of my lips. Soft, lingering, and full of unspoken words.
I closed my eyes, letting the kiss pull me in. Heat bloomed in my chest, familiar and aching. God, I wanted nothing more than to pull him closer, tangle my fingers in his hair, kiss him hard and lose myself in him until the doubts faded. But... a lot of things were off about him. The surveillance, the hidden phone, and the way he watched me like I might break or run. It was disturbing, and a crack in the foundation we'd built.
When he deepened it, capturing my lower lip gently between his, I froze. My heart raced, torn between want and wariness. I pulled away, standing up quickly, my breath coming out in a shaky rush.
"Excuse me," I whispered, not meeting his eyes. I slipped out of the room, the door clicking shut behind me like a barrier.
The kitchen lights felt too bright. The refrigerator hummed softly as I opened it. The sight of the ice cream containers lined neatly on the shelf didn’t do anything to me. Not even the chocolates beside them. Normally, I would have squealed and teased him for being thoughtful.
But, now, I felt nothing.
My stomach twisted too tight. Instead, I grabbed the meals from the fridge, and popped them in the microwave. The hum filled the silence as I stared at the turning plate, mind racing.
I ate alone at the dining table, fork scraping against the plate. The food was good and seasoned just right but it tasted like ash. By the time Damien joined me, sliding into the chair across, I was done.
I pushed my plate away, folded the napkin neatly and stood up, rinsing it quickly in the sink before heading out.
He didn't hold me back and I was grateful for that small mercy. Space was what I needed now, to breathe, to think.
I knew I had to get to the bottom of this. Damien's story about that night felt half-told, like pieces were missing.
And only one person could tell me the truth.
Maya.
She had been there that night. We had gone to the club together. We had shared a dorm in our first year. She had claimed she brought me back home.
If anyone knew something, it was her.
She must have seen something, at least enough to jog my memory. If anyone knew, it was her.
I retired to bed way before Damien that night. Curled under the covers in the room, staring at the ceiling until exhaustion pulled me under.
The following morning arrived with sunlight slicing through the curtains. I moved through the house like a ghost with no chat, and just nods. Damien watched me from the kitchen island, his gaze heavy, and probing. I couldn't ignore the way it followed my every step, but I didn't acknowledge it either.
Words felt too risky, like they might shatter the fragile peace.
By the time I got to school, the campus buzzed with students rushing to classes. I scanned the quad, our usual spot by the old oak tree where we waited for each other. And there she was, Maya, waving wildly, her backpack slung over one shoulder.
"Baby girl!" she grinned, pulling me into a tight hug. Her perfume wrapped around me, floral and bright. She squeezed extra hard, like she'd been counting the time.
"I am having a feeling I will get tired of your married life soon," she rambled, pulling back but keeping her hands on my arms. "I have missed our sleepovers. Can you talk to your hubby to permit you? God, I've missed you. And a new season of our favorite show is out, we need to binge-watch it together. Will weekend work? Or Thursday? I can get us snacks, the good ones..."
She stopped mid-rant and stared at me. "Are you good? You look like you slept on the same bed with a ghost. Bags are under your eyes, girl. Spill."
I glanced around the premises. Students were far away no one was close enough to eavesdrop. "I am gonna ask you a question, Maya, and you are going to tell me the truth," I said, my voice steady but firm.
"O... kay," she breathed out, her eyes widening. "I am sat. Hit me."
"Do you remember the night of our final year exam? We had a party at the club."
She nodded quickly, her curls bouncing.
"What happened that night, and how did I get to the dorm?"
Maya's smile waned in an instant, fading like a light switched off. Her eyes darted away, and I drew my brows together, suspicion coiling tight.
"W... what are you saying?" she stammered, forcing a laugh that didn't reach her eyes. "I brought you home, of course. You drank too much, passed out on the dance floor. I dragged your ass back, remember?"
She turned away, starting to walk toward the lecture hall, but it was too casual, and too quick.
Oh, Maya is lying.
I'd known this bitch for over a decade. I had known her through breakups, all-nighters, secrets we'd sworn to keep. It wasn't hard to see through her at all.
The averted gaze, the fake chuckle, the way her shoulders tensed. Oh, classic Maya.
"Maya, stop walking and tell me the fucking truth," I called, my voice sharper than I meant. I caught up, grabbing her elbow lightly to halt her.
She turned to look at me again, her face paling. An awkward smile tugged at her lips, "Did your memory of that night return already?"
“What?” I whispered.
Her eyes widened slightly, like she had said too much. She opened her mouth, then closed it again.
I LOST MY MEMORY?!
(What do you'll think happened just four years ago?🌚 And Oh, Our Damien, am I the only one who feels like he's keeping more than he's letting us know? Your comments and reviews will go a long way, lovies. Please, don't forget to drop a comment, or ten, and then add to library. XOXO❤️)