Chapter 126: One twenty six

Damien’s POV

“Yes, we need to talk,” I repeated, this time more firmly, making sure she understood that I wasn’t going to let the moment slip away like I had done so many times before.

The words hung between us, heavier than I expected, and almost immediately, I felt the shift in her body.

She went still for some moment.

Not tense in a dramatic way, not panicked either, just… still, like everything inside her had suddenly paused, waiting to hear what would come next.

Slowly, she pulled back just enough to look at me properly, her brows knitting together slightly as she searched my face, trying to read what I wasn’t saying out loud.

“What is it you want us to talk about?” she asked quietly.

Her voice was calm, but there was something beneath it, something careful, like she already had an idea but didn’t want to assume.

I held her gaze for a moment longer before finally saying it.

“The baby.”

The words felt real the moment they left my mouth, heavier than anything else we had said so far, carrying a weight that neither of us could ignore anymore.

“How are we going to do this?” I continued, my tone steady but serious. “What’s your plan… for our child?”

For a brief second, she didn’t respond.

Then she nodded.

Not slowly, not reluctantly, just a simple nod, like she had been expecting this all along.

“I’ve been waiting for you to bring it up,” she admitted, her voice softer now, almost relieved.

Something in my chest tightened slightly at that.

“I was waiting for us to be alone,” I said, exhaling quietly as I leaned back into the couch, my eyes briefly dropping before returning to hers. “I didn’t want it to be rushed… or said in the wrong moment.”

She nodded again, understanding this time more clearly, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of the couch as if grounding herself.

“I don’t have a plan yet,” she said after a moment. “I didn’t want to decide anything without you. I wanted us to talk about it first… properly.”

There was honesty in her voice. No hesitation or any sort of avoidance.

And for the first time since this whole thing started, it felt like we were finally on the same page.

I studied her for a second, taking in her expression, the seriousness in her eyes, the way she wasn’t running from the conversation, and something inside me settled.

“I want you to keep the child,” I said.

The words came out clearly, without doubt, without hesitation.

Her eyes widened slightly, not in shock, but in the kind of quiet reaction that came from hearing something she didn’t know she needed to hear.

“I do,” I added, my voice softer now but just as certain. “And I want to do this right.”

She didn’t interrupt.

Didn’t speak. She just listened silently.

“I want to meet your family,” I continued, leaning forward slightly, my hands coming together as I spoke. “You should talk to them first, let them know what’s going on, and then we can figure out what our next step is from there.”

The moment I finished, silence followed.

But it wasn’t uncomfortable.

It was the kind of silence that meant something had been understood.

Then she nodded.

“I agree,” she said simply.

No argument.

No resistance.

Just agreement a simple agreement.

And somehow, that made everything feel more real than ever.

We stayed there for a while after that, neither of us moving immediately, just sitting side by side as everything settled around us, the weight of the conversation slowly turning into something calmer, something manageable.

Eventually, the tension eased.

Not completely, but enough for us to breathe again.

And just like that, the conversation shifted.

It didn’t happen abruptly, it wasn’t forced, it just… softened.

We started talking about lighter things.

The past.

Small memories that felt distant but still close enough to touch.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” she asked, a faint smile forming on her lips as she turned slightly toward me.

I let out a quiet breath, shaking my head lightly in disbelief.

“How could I forget?” I replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

“The club,” she said, her eyes lighting up just a little. “Out of all places.”

“Coincidence,” I added, though even as I said it, it didn’t feel like one anymore.

“Or fate,” she teased softly.

I huffed out a small laugh, leaning back as I let the memory replay in my mind.

“You were nervous,” I said, my tone playful now, a contrast to the heaviness from earlier.

“I was not nervous,” she shot back immediately just didn't know you.

I raised a brow, clearly unconvinced.

“You were,” I insisted, her smile growing.

“You kept pretending like you weren’t interested, like you didn’t care, but it was obvious.”

I shook my head, though I couldn’t stop the faint smile that slipped through.

“I was just… observing,” I corrected.

“Observing?” she repeated, amused. “Is that what you call it?”

“Yes,” I said, nodding once. “Exactly that.”

She laughed softly, the sound light and genuine, and for a moment, everything felt… normal.

Like before.

Like nothing had changed.

Like we weren’t doing something inappropriate at our first meeting. she snorted.

“You liked every bit of it,” she added, her voice teasing now.

I glanced at her, my expression giving nothing away, though the truth of it lingered in my mind.

“Maybe,” I admitted after a second.

Her smile softened at that, her gaze lingering on me just a little longer than necessary.

The air between us shifted again.

Quieter this time.

Warmer.

And for a brief moment, it felt like we had found something steady in the middle of everything uncertain.

She turned slightly, adjusting her position as if to get more comfortable, her attention drifting for just a second before she looked back at me.

And that was when it happened.

The moment our eyes met again…

Something changed.

At first, I thought it was the lighting.

A trick.

Something to explain it out.

But then I looked closer.

And my breath caught.

Her eyes.

They weren’t the same.

The warmth that had been there just seconds ago… was gone.

Replaced.

By something darker.

Something unnatural.

I froze, my entire body going rigid as I stared at her, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing.

Her eyes had turned black. Again for the second time.