Chapter 183: Apparently I’m a Gold Digger Now
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She let out a dramatic sigh, the kind that you could tell had been perfected over years.
"Honestly? Is that really how you’re going to greet your sister after all this time?"
"You didn’t answer my question."
"I came to see my baby brother."
Tilting her head, she examined him the way a jeweler inspects a gemstone for flaws.
"Our mother was starting to wonder if you’d forgotten you had a family."
"I haven’t."
"No?"
Her smile became sharper.
"Then maybe you could explain why you’ve ignored every phone call for the past month."
I shifted my gaze between them, watching their back-and-forth like a tennis match neither of them wanted to win.
Suddenly, all of Damien’s habits made much more sense, avoiding tough conversations, bottling things up. It seemed emotional repression really was a family trait, like an heirloom nobody wanted but kept out of obligation.
"I’ve been busy."
"I’m sure."
Her eyes darted to me as she said that and I in return frowned at her.
Dianne took a sip of her water, continuing smoothly, unruffled, as if she had all the time in the world.
"Mother got worried, so she asked me to drop by and check if you were still alive."
"I’m alive."
"So I can see."
"And now you’ve seen." He gestured toward the front door with a crisp movement, as if that would be the end of it. "You can leave now."
Well, that was pretty direct. Even for Damien.
Dianne didn’t seem offended, though. If anything, she looked amused, her lips curling like she’d expected this and found it charming rather than rude.
"I was just getting to know your little roommate." Her gaze shifted to me. "He’s quite the feisty one."
Feisty one?
What was I, a damn cat?
Before I could fully process what she said, Damien crossed the room without making a fuss.
He just stopped beside me, half a step in front, subtly shielding me.
The realization swept over me oddly, warm and heart-wrenching at once, like a good thing that still hurts a bit because of the circumstances.
"I imagine he is," Damien replied, keeping his voice steady.
"I like him."
I blinked, taken aback.
That wasn’t what I’d expected.
I was sure she hated my guts.
I thought for sure she’d throw an insult my way or something about my shoes, but instead, it almost sounded like she approved.
Then Dianne added, "Although he could certainly benefit from knowing when to keep quiet."
"There it is," I muttered under my breath. Spoke too soon.
Damien’s hand brushed against mine for just a moment...a silent warning or reassurance. I wasn’t sure which.
Dianne caught on, though; of course she did. Her keen eyes dropped to where our hands nearly touched before settling back on Damien’s face.
"I see."
The room grew even quieter, which I didn’t think was even possible given how silent it already was.
"I hadn’t realized," she said softly.
"Realized what?"
"That you’d become so..." She searched for the right word, dragging it out like she was savoring it. "...Protective."
"I’m protecting my roommate from unnecessary conversations."
"Is that really what we’re calling it now?"
Damien didn’t say a word. Dianne smiled to herself, a small, private smile that clearly indicated she thought she was winning.
"You’ve changed."
"So have you."
"I certainly hope so."
She placed her empty glass on the coffee table and smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her jumpsuit, a move I suspected she did purely for effect since that jumpsuit didn’t seem to have a wrinkle to begin with.
"I’ve relayed what Mother wanted me to say."
"And?"
"She expects you home."
"I’m not coming back."
"I figured as much." She sighed. "You’re making this unnecessarily difficult. Especially when you know the matter on ground."
"No," Damien said, calm. "You are."
For the first time, her smile faltered. Just a little. But enough to reveal the first crack in her polished facade all afternoon, and I found it oddly satisfying, like watching a smug player finally lose a board game.
She picked up her handbag. "Very well."
As she walked to the door, she paused beside Damien.
"Oh." A beat. "I almost forgot."
She glanced between us. "I do hope you’ve become more careful."
Damien’s expression didn’t change. "Careful about what?"
"The company you keep." A heavy silence filled the room. "You’ve always drawn in people who see our last name before they see you."
Her eyes flicked toward me, just for a moment. But that was enough. "You wouldn’t want history to repeat itself with the gold diggers and all."
I felt something unpleasant settle in my stomach.
Gold diggers. She hadn’t said it outright, but the implication landed hard, like a slap that stung even without the actual hit.
Damien’s jaw tightened just enough for me to catch it.
"Dianne." His voice had turned icy. "Leave."
She smiled politely.
"As you wish, little brother." She turned the doorknob. "It was lovely meeting you, Oliver."
Something told me she didn’t mean it, whatever...it wasn’t like the feeling was mutual even if she did mean it.
The door clicked shut behind her.
...Complete silence. Neither of us said a word. The apartment felt huge, empty, and cold.
Just this morning, Damien had been stealing kisses while arguing about shirt colors after having sex in the bathroom, and now it was like someone had flung open every window in winter and forgotten to close them.
I stared at the floor. "So...You have a sister."
"...Yes."
"You also apparently have a mother."
"...Yes."
"And, judging by the context clues, probably a father too."
"...Yes."
I looked up. "You never really mentioned any of them to me."
Damien rubbed the back of his neck, a stiff, self-conscious move that was unusual for him. "It’s... complicated."
I chuckled softly. "I’ve noticed."
"I didn’t think it mattered."
"It mattered enough for your sister to show up here and interrogate me."
He was quiet.
"I didn’t want to drag you into family issues."
"Congratulations." I forced a smile. "Mission accomplished."
He frowned. "Oliver—"
"No, seriously." I shrugged, though the motion didn’t ease the tension in my shoulders. "I had no idea they even existed."
"I know."
"You’ve met my dad."
"I know."
"You know practically everything about me."
"I know."
"But I don’t even know how many siblings you have."
His shoulders sagged slightly. "I wasn’t hiding you."
"It kinda feels like you were hiding them."
"They’re different things."
"Are they?"
He hesitated. That pause hurt more than it should’ve, just a split second where I wanted an immediate answer and got a stall instead.
I looked away. "...Did she really mean it?"
He frowned. "Mean what?"
"The gold digger thing."