Chapter 211 211
There are moments in life that ache so deeply they seem unbearable yet somehow, within that pain, something achingly beautiful still exists.
This was one of those moments.
Jacqueline had never once imagined that Damien would say things like this to her. Somewhere deep inside, she had always believed it was impossible.
And yet here they were.
Sitting so close together that she could feel the warmth of his body, while he laid his heart bare before her.
“I fought it so damn hard,” Damien rasped, his voice thick with emotion. “But you were too bright… too tempting. Eventually, I gave in.”
Jacqueline could hear her own heartbeat thundering in her ears.
She didn’t speak.
Perhaps she couldn’t.
Or perhaps she was afraid that saying anything might shatter this fragile, precious moment between them.
“Will you be my woman, Jacq?”
The question struck her like a wave.
Her heart twisted painfully caught between overwhelming happiness and a strange ache she couldn’t explain.
Slowly, she nodded.
Her teeth sank into her lower lip, trying desperately to hold back the tears threatening to spill. But they slipped free anyway, beyond her control.
Damien reached up and gently cupped her chin.
With his thumb, he eased her lower lip from between her teeth, the rough pad brushing softly over her plump mouth. The touch made her inhale sharply.
“Words, baby,” he murmured.
“I am your woman,” she said firmly.
The simple declaration made something inside his stone-like heart stumble.
His fingertips traced along her jaw as he leaned forward, clearly intending to claim her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss.
But Jacqueline pressed a hand against his chest and gently pushed him back.
Her gaze dropped to the floor.
“What’s wrong?” he asked softly.
She drew in a slow breath, gathering her courage.
“…It was the night of my birthday,” she whispered.
“I was about to turn fourteen. I was so excited. I wanted to go to the funfair… but my mom was waiting for Julien.”
Damien said nothing.
He simply held her in his arms as she spoke.
She was opening herself to him.
“He was busy with work that day, so I kept begging my mom to take me instead,” Jacqueline continued quietly. “Eventually she agreed. She left Mathieu with Hélène… and on the way there we were talking about my birthday party.”
Her voice trembled.
“We were both so happy. She kept smiling.”
She swallowed.
“But then… suddenly… there was a loud crash.”
Her voice grew quieter.
“And everything stopped.”
Large tears rolled down her cheeks as her hands began trembling violently.
Damien’s hand immediately tightened around hers, steady and warm.
“When I woke up…” she whispered shakily, “I was still inside the car.”
“The car had flipped upside down. I was hanging from the seatbelt. My head hurt so badly… and my whole body felt numb.”
Her breathing grew uneven.
“I called for my mom… but she didn’t answer.”
Her fingers clenched tightly.
“So I forced myself to turn my head… to look at her…”
Jacqueline began shaking.
“S-she…”
Damien pulled her closer, rubbing soothing circles along her back. He could see her reliving every second of it.
And somehow he knew.
She had never told anyone this before.
She needed to release it.
“Her eyes were wide open,” Jacqueline continued, her voice breaking. “But there was no life in them.”
“A huge shard of glass was lodged right in her throat.”
Her entire body trembled now.
“Blood was spilling from her mouth… running down the side of her face.”
“She wasn’t breathing…”
Her lips quivered violently.
“But she was staring straight at me.”
Her voice cracked.
“Like she was accusing me of killing her.”
Jacqueline gasped.
“I screamed… and screamed… until I couldn’t anymore.”
Her chest heaved as the memory suffocated her.
“No one came.”
“I stayed there with her for hours… until I finally passed out.”
Damien shook his head slowly, his jaw tightening.
For a child to endure something like that…
It was beyond cruel.
He gently cupped her cheek, forcing her tear-filled eyes to look at him.
“You didn’t kill her, Jacq,” he whispered firmly.
But she shook her head weakly, still trapped inside the memory.
“S-she died because I forced her to take me out,” she stammered.
Again, Damien shook his head.
“No,” he said firmly. “She died because of an accident.”
“It was not your fault.”
“Don’t punish yourself like this. Your mother wouldn’t want that.”
Jacqueline blinked at him through watery eyes.
“B-but I”
It twisted something deep inside him to see how long she had been carrying this blame.
“No, Jacq,” he interrupted gently but firmly. “Your mom would hate seeing you blame yourself like this.”
“It was never your fault.”
“The only thing responsible that day was fate.”
His hand brushed softly against her hair.
“You’re too precious to hurt anyone. Please stop blaming yourself.”
He pressed his forehead lightly against hers.
For a moment, she simply stared at him.
Then she nodded slowly.
For years she had buried this pain deep inside herself.
But now, as she released the darkest secret she carried, she felt something inside her grow lighter.
“Julien always told me I killed my mom,” she whispered softly.
Damien’s temper flared instantly at the name.
“That bastard.”
“He beat me a lot after my mom died,” Jacqueline continued quietly. “And every time he hit me… he kept saying it was because I killed her.”
Her voice had become eerily emotionless.
Damien’s jaw tightened.
“Nobody heard you?” he asked sharply. “The staff? Anyone?”
Jacqueline shook her head faintly.
“He gagged me,” she said. “Then he would lock me away for days until my wounds healed.”
Her hands were turning cold.
“One day I realized the staff weren’t around. They weren’t even in their quarters. Julien had given them a few days off.”
She swallowed.
“Mathieu was asleep. I was lying beside him when Julien came and dragged me to his room.”
Her breathing faltered.
“I… I was only sixteen when he…”
The words struggled to leave her mouth.
“When he forced himself on me.”
“I cried. I begged him to stop.”
“But he said I killed Édith… and that I had to pay for it.”
Jacqueline wasn’t crying anymore.
She spoke in a hollow voice, like someone recounting a stranger’s life rather than her own.
“He locked me in a dark room next to his bedroom for days,” she continued mechanically. “Every night he came to torture me.”
“I became terrified of the dark.”
“If he ever noticed anything strange about my behavior, he would beat me again.”
“He used to say I had to act normal… look normal… like nothing was wrong.”
“If I made even the smallest mistake, he would punish me.”
She stared ahead blankly.
“He spent an entire month training me to act like everything was fine.”
“The room was soundproof.”
“So no one ever knew what he was doing to me.”
Her voice fell to a quiet whisper.
“He told everyone that I was behaving strangely because of Édith’s death.”
She finished speaking without emotion.
Like a machine repeating a story that had destroyed her life.