Few days later, after another quiet dinner where I barely looked at him, he finally spoke.
“Enough, Elena,” he said, pushing his plate aside. His voice was low but firm. “I’m tired of this. The silence. The way you look through me like I’m not even here. I know you’re hurting. I know you’re angry. But I’m not going to let you keep pushing me away forever.”
I set my fork down and stared at the table. “What do you want from me? I’m here. I’m eating. I’m not fighting you. Isn’t that enough?”
“No,” he said simply. He stood up and came around the table, pulling me gently but firmly to my feet. “It’s not enough. I miss my Elena. The one who argued with me, who laughed at my bad jokes, who melted when I touched her. I’m going to remind you who you belong to.”
My heart skipped. “Damien…”
He d
