HOME IS A PERSON

HOME IS A PERSON
Damien's pov

I don’t know how long I sat on that bus.
Time felt warped in there—stretched thin by heat, noise, and the kind of human chaos money usually keeps far away from me.

The seats were stiff, the air smelled like sweat and cheap cologne, and every pothole sent a jolt straight up my spine.
And then there was him.

The man beside me.

He smelled like something fermented and forgotten. I tried to breathe through my mouth until I realized that wasn’t helping either. When I glanced sideways, my stomach flipped.
He was cutting his toenails.

On the bus.

Clippings flew. I physically recoiled, my face twisting before I could stop it. The man noticed, of course. He turned slowly, grinning wide—and missing at least five teeth in the front.

“Morning,” he said cheerfully.

I leaned back as far as the seat would allow.

“Personal space,” I muttered under my breath.

He squinted at me. Then his eyes widened.
“Hey… hey, wait a minute.”

I closed my eyes. Please don’t speak to me.

“Wait a minute!” he shouted suddenly. “STOP THE BUS!”

The driver slammed the brakes. “What is it, Macaulay?” he barked.

Macaulay stood, pointing at me dramatically.

“I thought I saw the famous billionaire Damien Locke!”

Every head turned.

I froze.

Then I shook my head quickly. “No,” I said. “That can’t be me. I’m on a bus. What billionaire stays on a bus?”

There was a pause.

An older woman at the back leaned forward, squinting. “You really do look like him, though.”

I forced a tight smile. “I’m not him. Trust me.”

They studied me for another second, then nodded, satisfied. Someone muttered,

“Yeah, makes sense.”

The bus lurched forward again.
Macaulay sat back down way too close, and resumed doing everything in his power to make my skin crawl. Tapping my knee. Humming off-key. Sniffing loudly.
I stared out the window, jaw clenched.

If Lena took this bus…

The thought made my chest tighten painfully.

Did anyone bother her? Did any of these strange, careless people try to talk to her? Touch her? Scare her?

I gripped my hands together, forcing myself to breathe.

She was strong. She was smart. And she was coming home.

I must’ve drifted off at some point—my body finally surrendering to exhaustion—because when I jolted awake, my heart leapt straight into my throat.

My car.

I saw it through the window, parked where I’d left it.

I jumped up so fast I nearly stumbled over Macaulay’s feet.

“Hey” he started.

I didn’t listen.

The bus hissed to a stop, and I practically leapt off it, dragging in a deep breath of fresh air like I’d been underwater too long.

I unlocked my car, slid into the seat, and turned the engine on with shaking hands.

Then I drove.

Traffic slowed me down, but nothing could dull the surge of adrenaline flooding my veins. I didn’t care about the horns, the red lights, the world outside my windshield.

I was going home.

I was going to my family.

When the gates of the mansion finally came into view, my chest felt too small to hold my heart. I barely parked before getting out.

And then I saw her.

Lena.

She was carrying Noah up the steps, his arms looped around her neck, his head tucked into her shoulder. She wore a light, flowery dress—simple, soft. Her hair fell freely down her back, a little wild, a little undone. There were faint cuts on her skin, but she looked… alive.

Real.

Okay.

I didn’t think. I just moved.

“Lena.”

She turned.

For half a second, she just stared—eyes wide, breath caught—and then I was there, wrapping my arms around her so tightly I was afraid I’d disappear if I let go.
She gasped, then sobbed.

“Daddy!” Noah shouted, laughing and crying at the same time.

I pulled them both into me, burying my face in Lena’s hair, breathing her in like oxygen. “It’s okay,” I whispered over and over. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here now. We’re here now.”

Her arms locked around me like she’d never let go again.

I kissed her temple, her cheek, her forehead—anywhere I could reach. “You’re safe. You’re home.”

When I finally pulled back, my hands framed her face. “The video—”

She shook her head immediately. “No. I know.”

Relief crashed through me so hard my knees nearly buckled.

“I would never,” I said hoarsely. “Vivian I don’t know. I’m sorry.” I kissed her. “I didn’t mean any of it.” Kiss. “I’m a bastard.” Kiss.

“You deserve someone better.” Kiss. “But I’m too greedy to let you go.” Kiss. “I love you so much, Lena Cruz. I want you to be mine forever.”

She laughed through her tears, pressing her forehead to mine.

“I was already yours,” she whispered. “From the moment you took me to that park and made me see a version of you no one else ever did.”

I pulled her back into my arms, holding her like I’d fought the world to get here.

Because I had.

And I would do it again.