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Chapter Eleven: The Words That Broke Her
The storm had softened into a quiet drizzle. The dorm was still and heavy with silence.
Athena sat across from Damon, her arms wrapped around herself as if trying to hold the pieces of her calm together.
He had changed into fresh clothes his assistant brought, but the image of him in her robe still burned in her mind.
And beneath that—an older image, one she'd tried to bury.
Eight months ago.
His birthday.
The night everything shattered.
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Eight Months Earlier
The DeVille mansion had been filled with laughter that night—friends, business partners, important faces from every corner of the city.
And somewhere among them stood Athena, clutching a small velvet box in her hand.
It wasn't much—just a silver tie clip she'd saved up for—but it meant everything to her.
When she finally found him alone on the balcony, he was staring out over the city lights, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a glass of champagne.
His profile looked sharp, distant, and perfect.
"Damon," she said softly.
He turned, and for a brief second, his cold expression softened. "Athena. You shouldn't be out here. It's late."
She smiled nervously, stepping closer. "I just… wanted to give you this. Happy birthday."
He looked at the box, then at her, his amber eyes unreadable.
"What is it?"
"Open it," she whispered.
He did. His brows lifted slightly at the sight of the simple tie clip. "You bought this?"
She nodded, heart racing. "I wanted you to have something from me."
There was a pause. Then she took a deep breath and said the words that had been caged in her heart for months.
"I love you, Damon."
The air froze.
He didn't move. Didn't blink.
Just stared at her like she had said something impossible.
"Athena…" His voice was low, warning. "You don't know what you're saying."
"I do," she insisted, her eyes glassy. "I've felt this way for a long time. You're kind, strong, and—"
"Enough."
His tone snapped like a blade.
The warmth drained from his face, replaced by that icy mask the world feared.
"You're just a child," he said, each word cutting deeper. "Don't confuse admiration with love."
Her throat tightened. "I'm not a child—"
"You are. And this…" He gestured between them. "This is ridiculous."
Tears burned her eyes, but she stood her ground. "You could have just said no."
He laughed once—cold, humorless. "No? Athena, I have a life. A business. A girlfriend. I don't have time for silly fantasies."
The word hit like a slap. Fantasies.
He went on, voice rising. "You think love is a game? You think I'll throw everything away because a naïve little girl thinks she's in love?"
"Stop," she whispered, her voice trembling.
But he didn't. "You're a fool, Athena. Don't ever embarrass yourself like this again."
The tears finally fell. She dropped the gift and ran, his voice still echoing in her head.
That night, she promised herself never to cry over him again.
---
Now
Athena's hands tightened on her knees as the memory crashed over her like the storm outside.
Across from her, Damon sat silently, his gaze heavy with things unsaid. He knew she was remembering.
He was, too.
Finally, she spoke.
"Do you remember what you said to me that night?"
He looked away. "Yes."
Her voice shook. "You called me a fool."
He closed his eyes, guilt flickering across his features. "I did."
"You told me I embarrassed myself."
"I know."
"And now you show up here, after all this time—why, Damon?"
He didn't answer immediately. When he finally met her eyes, his were softer than she'd ever seen them.
"Because I was wrong."
Her breath caught. The rain outside grew heavier again, a low rumble of thunder filling the silence.
But Athena only looked at him, torn between anger and something she didn't want to name.
For the first time since that night, he looked… human. Not the cold man she remembered.
Just Damon — tired, regretful, and maybe, finally, sorry.
But forgiveness wasn't something she could give yet.
Not when the wound still ached.