Chapter 23

Damian

"If things worked out the way I'd planned, I wouldn't have found my way to you. ~ Damian

I approached Emjay several minutes ago. She seems lost, like in a trance. Her gaze is distant, staring into the forest as if searching for something just out of reach.

I debate interrupting her. I sit on the log next to her and wait for her to come around. I focus on a leaf drifting around on a gentle breeze.

She jumps when she comes around to see me nearby, her body tensing as if ready to flee. Her heart races in my ears, a frantic rhythm that mirrors my anxiety about intruding on her thoughts.

"I didn't mean to startle you," I say softly, reaching for her hand. To my relief, she doesn't pull away. Her hand is cold, and her fingers tremble slightly.

"It looks like everyone is making progress with their mates," she murmurs, her tone tinged with envy. I nod and squeeze her hand, trying to offer some comfort.

"No one has told anyone to leave. That's encouraging," I say, hoping to lift her spirits.

"It gives me hope," Emjay adds, a faint smile playing on her lips. Although her face still holds a hint of uncertainty behind her expression, there's a flicker of something brighter there.

"When are you going to let me in?" I ask gently, my heart aching to help her carry whatever burdens she's holding onto.

She closes her lids and sighs, the weight of her past visible in her slumping shoulders. "I don't even know where to begin," she whispers, her words barely audible over the whispering leaves.

"Begin with your name," I suggest, my tone soft and encouraging. "Did you change it from Desdemona because you were hiding, or was there another reason?"

"Desdemona means unlucky, ill-fated. I imagined changing my name would send me on a different path," she explains.

"Did it?" I ask, genuinely curious about her journey.

"Not at first. It took almost five years before I experienced anything I'd consider lucky," she admits. Her voice grows steadier with each word, and her eyes flicker with memories of struggle and perseverance. I don't push her to expand, sensing that she needs to go at her own pace.

"Why Emjay?" I ask after a moment, wanting to understand the significance behind her chosen name.

"I needed a name that made me forget my Greek heritage, and I wanted one that described my determination. Emjay is English. It means strong. I assumed it would give me the strength I needed to keep going for my girls."

I squeeze her hand again, offering silent support as she takes another step forward on her journey of healing and rediscovery.

"How did they break your heart?" Emjay asks, her question laced with sadness and empathy. Her look searches mine, seeking to understand the pain I carry.

I swallow the lump in my throat, the remnants of distant scars still tender in my heart. "The first one," my voice trembles slightly, "she fell in love with a human. It was sudden, and I never saw it coming. She left me a note one day, telling me I'd never see her again because she had left to marry him. I remember the exact words she wrote, as if they were burned into my memory: ‘ I can't do this anymore. I can't worry that at any minute you'll hear your true mate's call and leave me. It's been fun. I've met someone else. A human. He asked me to marry him and I said yes. You won't see me again. I wish you the best.' It was like a dagger to my chest."

Emjay tightens her grip on my hand. Her warmth grounding me as I continue. "The second one, her parents pressured her to go to college and find a human husband. They believed that her biological clock was ticking and that since she didn't hear it, a Minotaur like me couldn't provide her with the life she deserved. She did what they suggested, and she told me to my face. I respected her for that, at least, but it didn't make the pain any less. I walked away before I could hear her say something like, ‘I need to find someone who can give me the future I want.'

"I'm sorry," Emjay whispers with genuine regret for the hurt I endured. She squeezes my hand, offering silent support and understanding.

I shake my head gently, a small, bittersweet smile forming on my lips. "I'm not," I reply with newfound clarity. "The Fates knew you weren't dead. They kept me from making a grave mistake. Those heartbreaks led me to this moment. To you. If those relationships had worked out, I wouldn't be here now, holding your hand and feeling this hope for the future. It was all meant to be."

Emjay's eyes soften, and she leans closer, her presence a soothing balm to my wounds. "You really believe that?" she whispers.

"Yes," I say firmly, conviction in my tone. "I believe that every heartache, every tear, every moment of despair was leading me to you. It's as if the universe was aligning our paths, ensuring that we'd find each other when the time was right."

She smiles, a tear glistening in her eye, and I know that in this moment, we are both healing. The past may have been filled with pain, but the future holds the promise of something beautiful, something worth all the struggles we've faced.