Chapter Eight

Past

I can count on one hand the times I was genuinely happy. And this moment right here tops it all.

He remembers me.

He remembers me .

I am mesmerized. Mesmerized by the man in front of me. Mesmerized by his onyx eyes as they search my face. Mesmerized by his stubble covered jaw that clenched slightly when I squeezed his hand that’s still gripping my chin.

Seeing him inches away from me brings back the memories of our first kiss. My first ever kiss. The kiss he never returned. That one small contact that wasn’t welcomed. And the silence that followed after told me it was certainly something I was not allowed to pursue with him. But God do I want to.

For the first time in my life, I don’t want to do something that’s expected of me. I don’t wish to walk on the road that’s already paved for me. Is it selfish? Can’t I want something and do something for me this one time?

He frowns at me as if he can read my mind. Am I transparent? If so, what exactly is he seeing right now?

“River,” he warns as the look in his eyes change. Oh, so indeed I am transparent. Anyway, his warning does the complete opposite. Instead of intimidating me, it makes me grin.

“Please say that again.”

He steps back, still frowning. “Say what again?”

My fingers fiddle with my curl as I glance up at him through my lashes. “My name.”

He ignores my request. “What are you doing here? And who were the men chasing you?”

Damian is talking to me. I have dreamed of this day so many times but nothing compares to reality. His deep voice that made my toes curl two years ago was still the same. The effect he has on me is still very much potent. It wasn’t a teenage fascination. It wasn’t a passing crush. I may have been enamored by him instantly but there was something about him that my mind and heart refused to let go.

“River.” He stresses, and in an attempt to make me answer, he says my name again.

I respond with a tenuous giggle.

Damian’s expression softens slightly. “Are you going to answer me now?” His tone is very dry, making me suppress another round of giggle.

“My flight got delayed so I had to come here. And those men were my bodyguards.” I suppose he knows about me as he was at my birthday party so I refrain from explaining why I have so many guards following me.

“Why were they chasing you?”

“Because I ran away without a word.”

“And why were you running from them?”

I shake my head. “I wasn’t running from them. I was running toward someone.” I stare at him intently, silently telling him who that someone was.

When he keeps staring at me mutely, a hot flush creeps up my neck. “Are you…” offended? I’m sorry? The elevator door opens then and he steps out without a word. I fall into step beside him. Helplessly, I watch his side profile which reveals nothing. What was he thinking?

His silence is answer enough. He’s not interested. He made that painfully clear two years back. But I had hoped… I thought…

Damian stops abruptly, startling me. “Do you know how old I am, River?” His dark rumble makes my heart race.

I shake my head. I don’t know and I don’t care. He is certainly older. Not one guy on campus can match his built and height. He is definitely a man. A man that makes me weak in the knees.

“I’m thirty.”

“O-okay.”

He frowns. “Okay? That makes me ten years older than you, do you understand that?”

I nod wordlessly. We fall into silence that makes me squirm.

He bends his head to peer at me. “Didn’t I tell you to be good?”

Swallowing thickly, I nod again.

“Then why were you running after me?” He asks softly.

“Because I think about you all the time. I-I… I just can’t stop. I can’t get you out of my mind,” I confess ruefully. “And when I saw you today… I couldn’t stop myself from running after you.”

All my life I was barely acknowledged, barely heard apart from the role I play of Christopher Gibson’s daughter and heiress. Even in a room full of people, I’ve always felt alone. Boys approach me for my dad’s money. Girls love the limelight they get from me. No one has ever done anything for me without an ulterior motive.

But with Damian, it’s different. That night, he chose to hang out with me without an ulterior motive. In the two encounters we shared till now, he made me feel seen. Heard. It feels like he can really see me. The real me. Without the big name and the big bank account.

When his eyes lock onto me, it’s more than just a glance. It’s like he’s peeling away the labels and expectations, acknowledging the ordinary beneath the extraordinary.

In his presence, I’m not a symbol of success or privilege; I’m just a girl—no special treatment. He treats me as if I’m any other person, and it’s in those moments that I feel truly seen and valued. There’s a comfort in being regarded for the person I am, unburdened by the weight of my name and status. It’s refreshing and I want more of that.

Years weren’t enough to forget him. I don’t want to waste another couple of years in torment. I know he is not interested but if I’m persistent, maybe I can change his mind.

In a silent battle of wills, I blurt the question, “Are you married?”

His mouth pulls in a tense line. “That’s none of your business, angel.”

My heart does a silly little back flip at the endearment. It gives me hope. “So that’s a no.”

He stares at me for so long that I get awkward again. “W-what’s your last name?”

“Why?”

“I want your full name so I can stalk you.”

He raises his eyebrows.

“I spent two years looking for you to no avail.” I look over my shoulder, expecting Derek to show up any moment. “I don’t have much time. Please can you…”

“Montgomery. Damian Montgomery.”

I didn’t expect him to give it to me so easily so I stare at him for a beat in shock. Then I remember hearing his surname tossed around in the business affairs and fundraisers I attended with Dad recently.

“Now I want you to go back down.” He glances at his watch again. “I’m running late for a seminar. I’m the speaker, so I have to cut this short—”

“Can I get your number please?”

Those dark eyes rake over my face like he is having difficulty figuring me out. Just then the elevators door open and Derek and two other guards step out. I wring my hands. “Maybe we can be friends?”

When he says nothing, I speak quietly, “I won’t pester you, I promise.” I lick my lips. “I don’t really have friends. You’re the first person to…” See me. who heard me. Who made me feel something.

“Ms. Gibson,” Derek is few feet away and I bite my quivering lip. I lost my only chance with Damian.

I threw myself at him and he rejected me. Shoulders slumped; I begin to face Derek when I feel something slip into my hand. I look down and see a black visiting card. My eyes fly up to Damian.

“Be good,” he murmurs and leaves me there stunned and so happy that tears well up my eyes. I hug the card to my chest and whisper. “I will.”