Chapter 152: Chapter 152 She felt a spark of hope
Aria’s POV
As we drove back to my place, I called Grace. I owed them at least an apology, even if Damian didn’t think so.
"Grandmother, I’m so sorry about tonight—"
"Hush, child. You have nothing to apologize for." Her voice was warm through the phone.
"My husband is stubborn and old-fashioned, but he’ll come around. You just focus on being happy with Damian. That’s all any of us really want."
When we got home, I could see the exhaustion written all over Damian’s face. He’d barely eaten at the Blackwood estate, too tense and protective of me the entire time.
"You must be starving," I said, already heading toward the kitchen. "Let me make you something."
I changed quickly into comfortable clothes and tied my hair back. "Don’t get too excited—it’s just going to be a simple bowl of noodles. But I promise it’ll be better than anything they served at that stuffy dinner."
I tried to inject some lightness into my voice, to ease the heavy mood that still clung to both of us.
As I started pulling ingredients from the fridge, I felt Damian’s arms wrap around my waist from behind. He pulled me back against his chest, his face buried in the curve of my neck.
He didn’t say anything. Just held me.
"Hey," I said softly, resting my hands over his. "Go take a shower. This’ll be ready soon."
"Aria." His voice was low, muffled against my skin. "You’ll stay with me, won’t you? Forever. You won’t leave."
My hands stilled. There was something vulnerable in his question, something that made my heart clench.
"We’re married, Damian. Where else would I go?"
I tried to keep my tone light, teasing. But I understood what he was really asking.
"Promise me."
"I promise."
His arms tightened around me for just a moment. "Good."
I wanted to turn around, to see his face, but something told me he needed this—the quiet, the closeness, the reassurance without having to look me in the eye.
So I just kept cooking, letting him hold me, his presence solid and warm behind me.
When the noodles were done, we ate together at the kitchen island. Damian finished every bite, even drank all the broth.
"Told you it was good," I said smugly.
He gave me a small smile—the first real one I’d seen all evening.
---
Later that night, I was lying in bed staring at the ceiling when I felt the mattress dip behind me.
Damian’s arms slid around my waist, pulling me back against him.
"Can’t sleep?" I asked quietly.
"I wanted to be close to you."
There was something achingly honest in his voice. No walls, no pretense. Just Damian, raw and open in the darkness.
I smiled into my pillow. "You’re kind of clingy, you know that?"
"Only with you."
My heart fluttered. How did he always know exactly what to say to undo me?
"Thank you," I whispered. "For today. For standing up for me in front of your grandfather. I know that wasn’t easy."
"Don’t thank me." His breath was warm against the back of my neck. "But Aria... it hurt. Hearing about what they did to you. Knowing I wasn’t there to protect you."
My chest tightened. "It’s in the past—"
"Just because it’s in the past doesn’t mean it didn’t happen." His voice cracked slightly. "I hate that you went through that alone. I hate that I can’t go back and fix it."
I turned over in his arms so I could face him. His expression was tormented, his gray eyes stormy in the dim light.
"You can’t change the past," I said gently, reaching up to touch his face. "But you’re here now. That’s what matters."
"It’s not enough." His hand covered mine, pressing it harder against his cheek.
"I want to make up for every single thing you suffered. Every moment you felt unloved or unwanted. I want to replace all of it."
My eyes burned. "Damian..."
He leaned down, his forehead touching mine. "You’re not alone anymore. You understand that? Whatever you need, whatever you’re feeling—you tell me. You don’t have to carry anything by yourself ever again."
He took my hand and pressed it against his chest, right over his heart. I could feel it beating strong and steady beneath my palm.
"This," he said roughly. "This is yours. Your safety. Your strength. Your home. Don’t ever forget that."
I couldn’t speak. My throat was too tight, my emotions too overwhelming.
So instead, I pulled him down and kissed him.
His response was immediate and consuming. Not gentle this time—intense, possessive, claiming.
His hand cupped the back of my head, angling me exactly where he wanted, deepening the kiss until I forgot how to breathe.
When he finally pulled back, we were both gasping.
"If you’re scared, tell me," he murmured against my lips. "If something hurts, tell me. If you need me—tell me."
His eyes burned into mine.
"You’re mine to protect now, Aria. Mine to care for. Don’t ever hide from me again."
"I won’t," I whispered. "I promise."
And I meant it. With every fiber of my being, I meant it.
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