CHAPTER 80
Lisa's POV
Grandma is curious by nature, just as I am, so I am grateful that she hasn't asked me anything for the previous week that I have been locked here.
One week of continuously scanning the outside of the window for Damien's automobile or his presence.
After a week, I still haven't received any kind of guarantee from him. Since the other night, he hasn't visited, and I get the impression that he didn't really care.
He was accurate. The sex was an error.
He is back to being the egoistic guy I used to know, but if he had cared, he would have at least returned to apologize.
I've stopped sobbing, but I still want a companion. Juliet is here to cheer me up, but I wish we hadn't fought. She would have recommended that we go to a party if we were still close friends, and it would have been a perfect way to distract me from thinking about Damien.
I am increasingly aware that this is progressively coming to an end as I wait for Damien to come pleading.
I'm not interested in it anymore, thus our contract will end. I don't care what he says or if he files a lawsuit against me.
To view Romeo's phone number, I raise my phone. I haven't been able to get the nerve to call him. I'm consumed by remorse over what I did to him that night, and I have no idea what he thinks of me right now.
He may hate me.
My brief concentration is broken by a knock, and as I glance up, I see Grandma entering.
I haven't left this room or left the home in the week since I arrived here. I'm constantly inside, eating, sleeping, or scanning the outside world for a familiar sight.
Since I shut myself in here, my hunger has multiplied tenfold, and I'm starting to worry that if I keep eating at this pace, I'll gain weight by the time I make arrangements to leave.
Where are you heading outside? I'm not sure.
Grandma smiles at me and gently calls out "Lisa" before silently shutting the door behind her.
A grin that conveys a lot of information. A phony grin that seems sorrowful.
I am aware that it is now. I should tell her what occurred right away, but how should I approach her afterward? I informed her that Lisa and I weren't meant to have sex, and I'm worried about how she'll react now that I've had sex with someone she doesn't like.
Will she not be let down? Will she reprimand me for letting him make my legs go crazy? Will she be able to comprehend that it was out of my hands?
Love is not illegal as she often claims. What crime does it commit to love the wrong person?
For everything except loving him, I am to fault. Love for him is not a sin. It's what my heart has decided to do.
The crime here is declaring my affection for a guy about whose genuine sentiments I know nothing. I made a mistake here. Another error was giving in to him when I ought to have insisted on setting the record correct and having the contract terminated to make it legally binding.
It's my first offense.
Grandma holds out my hands as she sits peacefully on the bed, allowing the hairband I was spinning my fingers on to fall off.
In addition to sleeping, eating, and staring out the window, this has been my main source of activity. I remember my youth wrapping my hands around my hairband. I'm so afraid I'll weep if a movie is emotionally charged that I can't even force myself to watch it.
I just want to stay in this state. not sobs. Not depressing. Not pleased. Simply numb. till I decide what to do with my life after that.
It seems like Damien has given up on me.
On us.
Was there ever a US to begin with? How could I have been duped by his alluring words? I believed he didn't like to cajole others into doing things. My legs went numb as soon as he stated he wanted me.
We also had sex.
We had fucking sex. My initial genuine sex. besides my first guy.
And yet, he deems this an error? Why the heck not?
"Are you ready to talk right now?" Grandma's remarks cause me to sit up and I turn to face her. Her face is wrinkled with worry, her lips are quivering with sorrow, and she has a serious scowl on her face.
I ought to speak with her. I should let her know. I can't continue to conceal this from her. Damien not having shown up indicates that something is wrong, and she must have worked very hard but in vain to solve the challenges.
I'm in pain. It has trampled on my heart. My whole universe is crashing down around me. Every time I think about him or what we did together, my brain starts to spin. When I think about what he said, I get furious.
I'm worn out. I feel like giving up. I simply want to go to bed and see how the world functions without me. I wish I could turn the hands of time backward so that the agonizing anguish I now experience wouldn't exist because I would have chosen otherwise.
Grandma massages my cheek with her thumb. I notice that I'm weeping once again at this point.
the repressed rage. The steadfast resolution was not to weep once again. the hurting sensation. the discomfort in my magnificent castle after the intercourse.
Everything tries to bring me to tears.
Say it out loud. Grandma offers her encouragement, and it doesn't take me more than a minute after she says that before I start sobbing as loudly as I can while clutching her tightly in the hopes that doing so would make the agony go away.
She rubs her other hand over my head to ease my tension while she pats my back and whispers comforting things into my ears.
His picture can only be seen with closed eyelids. It won't be possible for me to forget about Damien or what he stands for since everything makes me think of him.
This room that I'm trapped in makes me think of our room and him. The food I consume makes me think of the meals we had at his estate. The sole outfit I've worn since being here makes me think of him and the wardrobe full of clothing at his house.
Everything.
I gradually draw away after sobbing and mumbling for a few minutes and feeling like a weight has been lifted off my shoulder.
I sputter out "Mother, please forgive me" as quickly as I can. This has to be spoken. I have to release it.
Because I'm embarrassed, I can't see how she's looking at me or how she's responding to my apology.
She doesn't inquire as to why I am pleading for her pardon. She keeps quiet.
I close my eyes and open my lips while clasping my hands together. "I had a sexual encounter with Damien."
Once again, silence returns more carefully and slowly. I keep my head down as I go on. He missed me so much that he traveled to Verona to meet me. Until he pleaded with me not to accept Romeo, the man I met in Verona who expressed interest in me, I didn't first believe him. Then he said he desired me. I reminded him about the contract, but he claimed not to care because we were already having sex.
I'm on the edge of crying once again at this moment, but I restrain myself by tightly closing my eyes and clinging to my garments.
I apologize, Grandma. I ought not to have permitted it. I shouldn't have put my faith in him.
"What happened?" you ask. Instead, she asks a question.
I'm tempted to glance up to see how she's responding. determine whether or not she is sad.
I understand her question. If he genuinely told me he wanted me, she wants to know what changed.
"I told him I loved him, and ever since that night, he has changed. The day we arrived from Italy, he returned home with a new expression on his face. The Damien in Verona seemed to be a different Damien from the one in New York. He was once again icy, and he admitted that having sex with me was a mistake.
The question "And you ran here?" I flutter my eyelids open as I nod.
I wait for her to ask me more questions without looking up but she doesn't. The question "Has he called you?"
Except on the first night I left home, "No," This, in my opinion, is one of the main causes of my melancholy.
There are no calls. No texts are allowed. I'm not sorry. Nothing. nothing at all.
Silence only.
When Grandma sighs, I finally glance up.
"Excuse me, please. I ought to have paid more attention when you warned me that men may be unpredictable. I ought to have known..."
She interrupts me by saying, "My views about him changed."
I unconsciously furrow my brow. "What?"
She said, adding to my perplexity, "He was here". I am certain that she is referring to Damien, but when did he arrive? Was he present yesterday evening? Why didn't I see his car?
He came to check on me two weeks ago and asked me some questions concerning you.
"Questions?" I twitch my brows in anticipation of learning what she is discussing and the context of his presence.
"Regarding your dream. She responds, her hands still firmly gripping mine, "He came to ask me about your dream. "At that very moment, I started to see him differently. You claimed that it was only a business arrangement between you two, but I couldn't help but wonder why a guy like him would care about your goal given that you would be divorced in a year. He is caught between two things, I concluded as I closely observed him.
"My fantasy?" I query her. What she is saying doesn't worry me as much. I'm interested in finding out what she meant by my dream.
What is she referring to?
She seemed startled by my question to her. "Why do you seem shocked? Did he not inform you?
Asking "Tell me what?" My senses are all on high alert as I wait to learn what this is all about.
She leans back and seems surprised as she examines my face, perhaps trying to determine if I am kidding or not.
I lack knowledge. Damien didn't even let me know he was coming. Regarding my dream, he never spoke to me about it. Welche dream? I have no idea.
"He didn't mention the Fashion House to you?" With her eyes enlarging, she demands once more.
Clothing House? Which fashion brand? I shake my head now and then.
She responds, "Your Fashion House," and grabs my hand one more as her eyes fill with tears. called "Lisa's Fashion House."
I suddenly recall how, when we went to the lake home, he had inquired about my desire to own a fashion company.
My mouth slowly drops in shock at the revelation.
