The music was bouncing off the walls in the bar, and nobody could hear me holler over the racket. Even if they did, they wouldn't understand a word I was saying, but Damon could.
His eyes were full of concern and helplessness. He gently brushed my cheek with his fingertips, wiping away my tears, and muttered a soft "Sorry."
"Today would've been my dad's birthday But where's home for me? That cold, empty house? Nah…" I mumbled to myself.
"Damon, I was once your wife, often alone in that desolate villa. I didn't feel like it was my home. After our divorce, I was still heartbroken, even lost my parents' home. I was alone again. Luna was right. You really hurt me"
Damon's fingers paused on my face. He held my chin, forcing me to look up at him. He was visibly upset, "I just wanted you to beg me, I wanted you to need me like you used to, even when you lost a pen."
