Chapter 271: The Worst Good Decision Ever

We stayed still for what felt like forever.

I was still right behind Damien, arms tightly wrapped around his waist, my face pressed against his back.

It was like I thought if I held him tight enough, I could somehow stop the reality of the situation.

I knew that was silly, obviously.

I’ve never been able to physically stop life from happening, but with all the chaos I’ve faced recently, I was starting to think I could use a bit of magical help.

But the universe didn’t agree with me. The apartment was silent except for soft city sounds filtering through the windows, while we stood there, frozen, as if the whole night was stuck on this one single moment.

Damien’s hands lay over mine, his fingers still as he stared into some distant space.

I could feel his steady breathing beneath my cheek, but there was something off about it, this wasn’t the calm of someone in control.

No, it felt more like the breathing of someone desperately holding it together.

I felt my throat tighten. "Damien..."

Finally, his fingers shifted. Slowly, he turned within my arms, forcing me to loosen my grip just enough for him to face me. When he did, I nearly wished he hadn’t.

His expression was carefully controlled, as it always was when something hurt him too much to show. His jaw tightened, those blue eyes of his a shade darker than usual, and there was a crease between his brows that told me he was thinking too much in those few seconds we stood there.

He looked at me for a lingering moment, not with anger. If anything, that made it worse. He just looked... hurt.

His gaze traveled across my face, as if trying to comprehend how I could be asking him to leave me when just minutes ago I had been begging him not to.

"What are you asking me to do?" he finally murmured, his voice was barely above a whisper and I swallowed hard.

"I don’t know."

Damien’s brows furrowed. "That isn’t an answer."

"I mean..." I rubbed my wet cheek with the heel of my palm, sniffling quietly. "I don’t know how to explain it without sounding so fucking crazy."

"You’ve never let that stop you before." he said.

I just stared at him and somehow, between everything, a small laugh escaped me, It was breathless and pathetic, but it was still a laugh. "Wow. So comforting, thanks Damien."

"I’m trying."

"Yeah, you’re doing a terrible job."

"I can tell."

His mouth twitched, just a bit.

That little almost-smile vanished as quickly as it had come, but somehow it helped, reminding me that underneath all this was still Damien... the guy who teased me when I got all dramatic and looked at me like I was precious even when I was whining about everything.

Which made what I was about to say even tougher.

"I don’t want you to leave me," I whispered.

Damien’s face softened. "You know I don’t want to leave you."

"I know." I caught myself, shaking my head. "Sorry, I mean, I know that. I can see it. But that’s the issue."

His eyes stayed steady, focused on mine, waiting.

I took a shaky breath, finally managing to string the words together.

"I don’t want you to give up your education for my sake. I don’t want you to lose your future trying to keep me. I don’t want you waking up one day to realize you lost everything because you chose a guy who came with hospital bills, two and half jobs, and enough emotional baggage to need a whole extra seat."

Damien stared at me, processing and I shrugged weakly. "I get that it wasn’t the most romantic bitch in the room."

"Oliver."

My smile faded. "I mean it."

"So do I."

His voice had become firmer.

I glanced down at our hands, the familiar shape of his fingers against mine suddenly feeling fragile.

"I’ve spent my whole life stressing about money," I said quietly. "For years, I’ve counted every bill before I paid it, agonizing over whether I could afford groceries after paying for my dad’s treatment. I’ve worked until my feet ached. I’ve jumped from job to job while in highschool, convincing myself it was fine because things would get better eventually."

My voice broke. "I can handle living like that. I’ve done it."

Damien’s jaw tightened.

"But you haven’t." I looked back at him.

"You don’t know how to live like that, Damien. And you shouldn’t have to, you’ve spent your entire life gearing up for a completely different future, and now, because of me, your family is stripping it away piece by piece."

"They’re doing that just to control me."

"And they’re succeeding."

The words came out harsher than I’d meant.

Damien went silent and I immediately softened.

"I don’t mean that you’re weak," I said. "You’re not. Ugh, you’re probably the most stubborn person I’ve ever known aside from myself. But they have money, connections, influence, and they know exactly how to hurt you. They’re already freezing your accounts. They’re threatening your education. You might actually lose your spot Hawthorne."

"I’ll find another way."

"You shouldn’t have to." I stared at him, and the truth sitting in my chest became too heavy to keep pushing back. "I don’t want you to end up like me."

His expression shifted, I forged ahead before I could second guess myself.

"I don’t want you to wake up every morning wondering how to pay for things. I don’t want you working three jobs because you can’t afford to rest. I don’t want you caught between your own needs and someone else’s fucking medical bills. I don’t want you stuck in a tiny apartment someday, completely burnt out, questioning where your life went."

I forced out a weak laugh through my tears.

"I know it sounds silly because I love you, and obviously I want to be with you. I want that more than anything. But I love you enough to be terrified of what’ll happen if you lose everything for me."

Damien stepped closer. "You’re not the reason I’ve lost anything. I chose you."

Damien reached for my face and his palm settled against my cheek, warm and steady, so familiar it nearly broke me.

"Oliver."

I closed my eyes. "I can’t do this."

"Do what?"

"Watch you keep losing parts of your life and pretend I’m not involved."

"You aren’t."

"You can’t keep saying that."

"Why?"

"Because I won’t believe you forever."

My eyes opened as his hand stayed against my cheek, I could see the frustration building in his eyes, but it wasn’t anger towards me. It was desperation.

"Then what do you want?" he asked.

I stared at him. "I want you to choose yourself."

He froze.

"Just once," I whispered. "Choose yourself and not me."

His expression fell. "You think I’m not?"

"I think you’ve spent your entire life doing what your family wanted. You’ve carried their expectations, their business, their reputation, their ridiculous succession plans, and every other burden they dumped on you. Then you finally chose something for yourself, and now you’re ready to sacrifice everything else just to keep holding onto it."

I pressed my lips together, fighting back tears as I continued. "I don’t want to become just another thing you sacrifice yourself for."

"You’re not a thing, Sunshine." Damien’s thumb brushed beneath my eye. "You’re allowed to be scared."

"I am fucking terrified, Damien." I whispered. "I don’t want to wake up one day and have you resent me."

His expression changed immediately. "I would never resent you."

"You say that now."

"I would say it ten years from now."

"But what if you’re left with nothing? What if you’re watching everyone else move on while you’re stuck because you chose me? What if one day you look at me and think, ’This wasn’t worth it’?"

Damien’s eyes filled with something I couldn’t define. "You really think I could look at you and really think that?"

I couldn’t respond, that silence was answer enough.

Damien stepped back, running a hand through his hair, turning away to pace toward the windows. The city lights outside blurred through my tears, shining through the glass while the apartment felt suffocatingly quiet.

I watched his shoulders rising and falling.

"I hate this," I whispered.

He didn’t turn around. "So do I."

"I don’t want to do this, I want you to stay with me." I spoke, "But...but I think we have to do this."

His shoulders stiffened, hen he finally turned back to me, his face was pale.

Then he sat on the edge of the couch.

Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he pressed his hands together as he stared at the floor.

I stayed a few feet away, feeling like my heart was stuck somewhere between my ribs and my throat.

I’d wanted him to argue with me.

I’d wanted him to tell me I was being ridiculous, but instead, he was deep in thought and that terrified me more.

Minutes passed.

Neither of us said a word.

The apartment felt different now. It was the same couch, coffee table, and the same books Damien always stacked neatly beside his laptop.

The same ridiculously expensive furniture that had once made me feel like I’d stumbled into a showroom.

But suddenly, it all seemed temporary.

Like we were already packing up a life that hadn’t even come to be ours yet.

At last, Damien lifted his head and his eyes met mine. "I understand."

My heart sank, I hated hearing those two words. Not because they were wrong, but because they meant he was genuinely taking what I’d said into consideration.

"You do?"

He nodded slowly. "The last thing I want is for you to spend every day believing that I’m suffering because of you. But..."

He halted, then something shifted in his expression. "I have an idea."