Chapter 298: Damien Lockwood Has Invaded My Home! (Send Help)

Damien stared at me for a long moment, the intensity in his eyes making the kitchen feel cramped. "You haven’t changed a bit."

I swallowed. "Neither have you, asshole."

"That’s not true." His voice was quiet, and something about it tightened my chest, first to look away was me.

Dad cleared his throat.

"So," he said slowly and awkwardly, "I’m getting the feeling... I’ve walked into the middle of a conversation that started four years ago."

I nearly choked on my coffee.

Damien studied his plate. Frank stared at both of us. "What’s the problem kiddos?"

"Nothing," I said quickly.

"Nothing," Damien echoed almost simultaneously.

Dad narrowed his eyes. "You two are weird."

"No, he’s weird," I shot back glaring at Damien.

Damien looked at me. "You’re still deflecting."

"And you’re still annoying!"

Dad sighed. "Breakfast was going so well."

That made me laugh despite myself. For a few minutes, the atmosphere lightened.

Damien asked about Dad’s health, and my dad happily recounted everything in way more detail than necessary, gesturing with his fork like he was teaching a class instead of updating on his health.

He spoke about the transplant from four years ago, the coma, the physical therapy, and how his legs had weakened from being stuck in bed for so long.

The kitchen filled with Dad’s voice and the occasional clink of cutlery, and for a brief moment, it felt like we were just three people sharing a normal conversation instead of two of us skirting around landmines.

"I’ve been working on it," Dad said proudly, patting his thigh. "The therapist says I should walk much better in a few weeks."

"That’s really good," Damien replied sincerely.

Dad nodded. "It is! Oliver has been taking care of me this whole time, too. That boy still doesn’t know how to sit still and relax."

"That’s because you make it impossible," I muttered. "And when I’m not working, you’re asking me when I’m i gonna get married and and give you some damn grandkids. Not even a second of peace."

Dad ignored me. "He worked, studied, taught himself everything he needed, and still came home to care for me. Now he’s a lecturer!"

Damien looked at me with fake surprise. Suddenly, I found my plate very interesting.

"At St. Jude University," Dad continued proudly. "The youngest assistant lecturer in his department!"

"Really?" Damien said with a gasp, as if he hadn’t known...as if he hasn’t ambushed me at work just yesterday.

"That’s really impressive, Sunshine. Well done." He said.

I glanced up, and Damien regarded me differently now.

Not teasing, not jealous...just... proud.

"Yeah," I said quietly. "Thanks."

Dad beamed at me. "He’s doing great."

Damien’s gaze remained on me.

"Yeah." His voice softened. "He is amazing."

Heat flooded my face and my heart started beating a bit too quickly, making me feel like the kitchen had become a sauna.

Nope! I was supposed to be mad at him, not happy that Damien was praising my achievements!

Get a grip, Oliver!

Stay mad at him!

I jumped up, the chair scraping against the floor loudly. "Well, breakfast is over."

Dad blinked. "We haven’t finished, Ollie."

"I have." I started collecting plates before either of them could say anything, moving with way more urgency than necessary to clear the table.

.The plates clattered together in my hands as I stacked them, focusing on the simple task to avoid Damien’s gaze.

Behind me, I heard Dad chuckle. "Still bad at taking compliments, I see."

"I take compliments perfectly, Dad!"

"You just bolted."

"I’m cleaning."

"You always clean when you’re embarrassed and stressed."

"I’m not embarrassed!"

Damien chuckled quietly and I shot him a glare over my shoulder. "You better wipe that shit smile off your face before I do it for you!"

He raised both hands innocently. I took the plates into the kitchen, muttering as I turned on the faucet, letting the water run longer than needed just to have something to focus on.

The sound filled the small space as I stared at the bubbles forming in the sink, wishing they could offer advice.

"This is so ridiculous...stupid Damien, showing up at random places just to torment me like a damn stalker."

"I heard that."

I froze...of course, he heard it.

I didn’t turn around. "Good."

A brief silence lingered, then Damien said quietly, "You really are angry with me."

I focused on the running water, watching it swirl down the drain. "What gave it away?"

"The fact that you’ve been trying to stab me with your fork for the past twenty minutes."

I glanced over my shoulder. "I was eating."

"Violently."

I rolled my eyes and returned to the dishes, scrubbing a plate with more force than necessary. "You should leave."

"I told you. I’m not leaving yet."

I paused. "Why?"

His answer came after a moment. "Because I came here for something very important to me."

I turned slowly. He stood in the kitchen doorway, expression calm, but his eyes were locked onto me, making the rest of the apartment feel tiny. "I won’t leave until I get it."

My heart did a stupid, traitorous flip. I hated it and I hated it so much. "Well you’re not fucking getting it!"

Before he could respond, Dad’s bright voice drifted in from the dining room, blissfully unaware of the tension in the kitchen. "You should stay for rest of the day, Son!"

I shut my eyes.

No...what??? PLEASE, NO!!!

"And the night," he added cheerfully. "We can all catch up properly before Damien returns to his big shot CEO life!"

My eyes shot open.

I turned around so fast that the plate nearly slipped from my grip. "What?!"

Dad smiled at me from his wheelchair like he’d just suggested we order pizza. "What? Dad!"

"You heard me."

"Why would he stay the night?!"

Dad shrugged. "Why not? There’s enough room for three, and it’ll be nice."

I stared at him, then I turned my gaze to Damien. He was trying really hard not to grin.

And failing... that smug, satisfied look made me want to throw something at him.

"Why, I’d love to, Frank." He replied smiling down at me as if to say... let’s see you run from this one. " You’re too kind, sir.’

My dad chuckled, "Don’t mention it, son. I’m just glad you’re doing well and came to visit!"

I eyed them both, visibly fuming with rage.

My dad had just invited Damien Lockwood to spend the night at our house!

I was going to need a lot more than just coffee to get through this.