Chapter 53: The Ghost of Her

Chapter 53: The Ghost of Her
Damien’s POV

The papers were signed and finished already.

My hand was the one that pushed them across the lawyer’s desk, my very hands were the ones that gave her the papers, my voice was the one that asked the lawyer to file the divorce papers.

I thought I’d feel free, I actually thought I’d feel like a king cutting off dead weight… but freedom doesn’t feel like what I’m feeling currently.

Freedom doesn’t feel like silence at night that makes your chest tight. It doesn’t feel like walking into your own penthouse and realizing the air is too clean, too sharp, like no one has lived here for days.

It doesn’t feel like watching the shadow of a woman you swore you hated and longing for it to come back to you.

Anneliese.

Her name tasted like smoke in my throat, it was bitter and sweet at the same time.

I’m the one who filed for divorce. I’m the one who chased her away, and yet I can’t close my eyes without seeing her face at the table, that stubborn glare she always gave me whenever I started taunting her.

The way she refused to cry in front of me when I gave her the papers—it was written all over her face that she wanted to let it out badly, but God, she never gave me that victory. She held her tears back until she was alone. I know she did cry afterwards, I could hear them in my heart even though we were far away.

This house used to be filled with arguments. I remember our days in the safe house. Those days were so much fun, even though I hated it, she made me smile back then. But now those smiles are gone.

Romel comes over sometimes but he is always loud and always mocking, and here he is again, taunting me as if he gets paid for it.
“Look at you,” he laughed, slapping my shoulder. “The great Damien is now sulking like a teenager over a woman he didn’t even want.”

I snarled at him, “Shut the fuck up.” But he only grinned wider.

“You chased her away, hermano. Don’t act surprised that the ghost of her is chasing you back, and I bet she’s so damn stubborn—like it’s always the short ones.”

He doesn’t even understand what is wrong with me or what I’m going through, no one does. I didn’t want love… I wanted control, a marriage of convenience, a bond forged by power. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal for me. But with Anneliese, she fought me every damn day.

She broke the rules, she looked me in the eye like she could see straight through my armor. I used to tell myself that I hated her for it, but now… I hate that I miss it.

Nighttime has become worse. I drink, but the whiskey doesn’t numb anything. I take women home, but their bodies feel like lies in my hands. Their laughter is too easy and their touches too desperate. Nothing compares to Anneliese’s silence when she turned her back against me or shot deadly glares that could kill me across rooms.

Nothing compares to the way she would flinch when my anger got too close, but still stand tall with her tiny chin lifted, as if daring me to do my worst.

God help me, I miss fighting with her…

A laugh threatened to escape my throat as I remembered her reaction when I caught her stealing the meal I prepared back then in the safe house. She looked so damn adorable.

I just hope I don’t get to really see her in person or else I’m afraid I might go crazy. But it seems not every prayer gets answered.

Because tonight, it happened.

Romel dragged me to some fashion event and I went with him.

The event was amazing, the hall was cool with velvet curtains hanging at the windows, and as expected, there were thousands of cameras flashing in my face, but I didn’t care about them.

I was led to my seat and I kept sipping my drink till my vision started doubling.

My head kept flinging around, trying to catch a glimpse of her, but she wasn’t there. She would surely be here, maybe just late. But it would be the end of the party for me if she arrived because I would be leaving instantly.

“Mr. Maddox,” a sexy model with a petite round ass greeted me and I flashed her a smile. And just then, the crowd erupted in cheers. I turned around to see the trigger and my heart almost fell out at what I saw.

Anneliese.

She walked in, taking each step like a queen. She was dressed in a black tight-fitting gown and her long brown hair was pinned up in a high iconic ponytail. Her little face was lit up with camera flashes.

She looked so damn untouchable, like marble carved into a goddess. My eyes moved to her eyes… those eyes were still the same, burning, alive, and so damn stubborn.

For one second, our eyes met and the whole room seemed to disappear.

The music faded in my ears and the chatter in the room turned to static, and all I could see was just her eyes meeting mine across the crowd.

And in that single second, I felt everything I’ve been running from slam back into me like a fully packed truck.

And for that moment I wished I had just stayed gentle throughout the marriage. I wished I had just traveled away or something.

I shut my eyes as the memory of her voice when she told me she never wanted this marriage rushed in. The memory of my voice when I told her I didn’t care too hit so hard too.

She looked away as fast as she could but the damage was already done.

My chest felt like it was cracking open.

I left her.

I filed the papers.

I told her to get out of my life.

So why the hell does it feel like I’m the one abandoned?

I clenched my fists until my knuckles ached. Romel leaned in and said something in my ear, he was laughing and pointing at some model waving in our direction, but I couldn’t hear him.

All I could see was Anneliese’s retreating figure, slipping behind velvet curtains and vanishing into the back halls of the event.

I should let her go.

I should let the ghost stay dead.

But I can’t, and I don’t know why.

My legs moved before my mind could catch up.

My pride screamed at me to stop, but my body betrayed me. I followed her, pushing the staff before me and ignoring the stares I got.

The hallway was dim but my eyes adjusted to the brightness and I immediately caught her silhouette turning a corner.

My pulse pounded like a drum in my ears.

I didn’t know what I’d say if I reached her. I didn’t even know if I wanted to speak or if I just wanted to see her face one more time—see her raw face really close to mine, not the marble goddess lit up by the camera lights that adored her.

I don’t know why I wanted to see the real Anneliese I knew—the one that wouldn’t stop shooting glares, the one who shook when she was angry, the one who cried when she thought I wasn’t listening.

I chased her shadow uncontrollably, but when I turned the corner—she was gone.

Only dead silence greeted me… all I could feel was just the faint smell of her perfume lingering in the air.

My chest tightened as rage clawed up my throat… no, I’m not angry at her, I’m not even angry at myself, but at the emptiness she always leaves behind.

I wish I could stop and maintain the focus I had taught myself for years, but the ghost of her is everywhere, and it will not let me rest.