CHAPTER 99

Lisa's POV

For me, pretending has never been a simple chore. Damien, though, taught me that. He taught me the art of pretending. He showed me how to suppress my feelings.

He showed me how to act as if I wasn't still feeling anything for him. Though I do.

I still do, yes.

And I turned him down. I turned him down when he bowed to the ground and held out a diamond ring as a vow of my eternal love. not due to my affection for him. Still, I do.

I didn't accept him since I still had my reservations. I turned him down because I wanted to think things over and determine whether or not this was real. to determine if his emotions for me won't alter at all.

Making hasty judgments was my first error, and I don't want it to happen again. I want to take my time to consider all the options, and carefully consider what is best for myself and my child.

Damien and I have experienced a great deal. Each time he pays me a visit, I observe him. He is working so hard to get through the healing process, and I can still see the anguish in his eyes.

I suddenly had telepathic abilities. He makes meaning-filled movements, which I observe.

Grandma couldn't disguise her astonishment when I informed her I was heading to Damien's house. I just grinned before stepping outside.

I am aware of how anxious she has been for me to say that or that I won't wake up one day and decide to return to Damien's estate.

I won't be going back. I am competent in my work. I made the decision to do this on my own, free from any pressure or intervention.

I'm deciding what's best for myself and my kid.

The guards were shocked to see me as I approached the gate. I give everyone a sincere grin before walking inside and approaching the front door.

Damien is undoubtedly present. Jude was among many who were shocked to find me enter the home this evening; the vehicle was parked in the driveway.

My dress is floral and falls just over my knee. When shopping with his mother, I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and chose a black purse to go with my black outfit.

I took the time to look decent, to be honest. The clothing I have been wearing ever since I left America and returned is nothing like the one I am wearing now.

I greet the maid as I enter the home and go directly to the stairs.

I up the stairs slowly, arrive at the top and shuffle toward the chamber. My pulse quickens as I approach the front of the room and I start to breathe deeply.

I believed I was in complete control. I believed that my fear had subsided. I believed I had lost my skepticism.

I'm still, however.

I'm terrified of what lies ahead for us. Do I still need to do this? Is it okay if I move on, let the past go, and do this?

I instinctively reach out to knock on the door in the hopes of getting a response, but there is no response.

I knock once again, louder this time. I hear a low voice before I can start to worry. "Come on in."

I reach for the doorknob and pull it open. He is sprawled out on the bed on his back, surrounded by papers and folders, with a glass of wine on the coffee table and the tray of food still covered.

My chest sags.

But I've become more courageous. I turn my head away from the messy space and spit. He immediately stands up when he sees me near the entrance and has huge eyes, so that must have worked.

"Lisa?" His eyes are still wide open, and I see him blinking repeatedly to confirm that I am who I claim to be.

He must have imagined me bringing my baggage back into his home numerous times. But it is not taking place.

not right now. not right away.

He approaches me with a long stride while I remain silent. He comes closer and wraps a strong grip around me.

I'm having to muster up a lot of bravery to keep my hands at my side. Not when he is as hot as ever and wearing a transparent t-shirt and shorts.

Damien is a Greek deity, for real. The fact that he is now vulnerable does not diminish his status as a Greek god; rather, it highlights his blazing good looks. To support my literal remark, I can see smoke emanating from every region of his body.

I tell him, "You are an asshole," and he breaks the one-sided embrace. He cocks his head to the side to see whether I'm kidding or not.

I keep saying, "You are an asshole," and he still seems genuinely baffled. He must have forgotten that he identified himself in that way, and I agree that he was and still is a jerk.

"Remember when you called yourself an asshole?" He remembers as I jog his memory, and his bewildered look is replaced.

His hands left my body as he grinned and nodded.

His touch's absence is felt by me. I can't believe I pushed myself not to seek this contact even if I haven't had it in months.

To what have I resorted?

I make my presence known by saying, "I came to tell you that I forgive you."

His eyes sparkle with joy.

"I simply thought I should let you know that while I'm here. You came all the way to my home to seek my forgiveness, so it won't be polite to do that over the phone," I continue. He seemed to be at a loss for words, so I decided to go. "I should go now that I've explained why I came here. Can I use your driver for a short while?

I look down at him anticipating a dejected look. However, all I can see right now are amused twinkles, which makes me wonder what is entertaining him.

He must have assumed that I would be staying when he first saw me, but he was mistaken.

I must have broken his illusion by telling him the truth up front that I would be leaving in just a few minutes.

My shoes, purse, and outfit have all worked very well.

When I turn to leave after he nods in response to my query, he abruptly pulls me back and smacks his lips into mine, using my large belly as a gigantic barrier in his attempt to come closer and give me a strong embrace that he will never let go of.