•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•✾•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•
Apparently, being loved by Damien was seen as a financial downgrade, like I’d traded a stable investment portfolio for a scratch-off ticket.
I almost laughed again.
"You know," I said, "for people who claim to know Damien so well, you seem to have no clue what he truly wants."
William’s expression hardened. "Damien doesn’t know what he wants, he’s young and he’s foolish. It’s our job as parents to stir him to the right path"
That statement changed something in me.
I stared at him. "What did you just say?"
"He is emotional right now."
"Right."
"He has let himself get distracted by a nobody like you to prove it."
"Distracted." I repeated the word slowly, tasting how ugly it sounded, something hot surged through my chest.
Neither of them answered... I had figured it out. I remembered the bruise. How Damien tried to hide it.
How he would look away when I asked about it. How tense he’d got when his sister was around, the way his shoulders would climb up toward his ears the second his phone lit up with his mother’s name.
I looked at William’s hands. Then at his face. Suddenly, everything clicked.
"Discipline," I said quietly.
William’s eyes narrowed. "What?"
"You said something earlier." I leaned in. "You said Damien needed stirring to the right path."
Silence, Evelyn’s expression shifted, just a bit. It was enough.
My heart raced. "You’re the one who hit him."
William’s face didn’t change. I didn’t need him to respond.
"I suspected it before, but that’s all the confirmation I need." I pushed back from the table, the sound of the chair legs scraping making a few heads turn. "You disgusting–"
"Watch your tone, do you even even know who I am?!"
I stared at him, shocked.
"No and I don’t give a flying fuck whoever you think you shit stains are." My voice shook. "You two awful parents don’t get to tell me what tone to use."
Oliver, calm down, that would have been smart advice if my brain hadn’t already packed its bags and checked out somewhere around "ten million dollars for leaving my son."
William’s jaw clenched. "He was being disrespectful."
I laughed. This time, it wasn’t nervous laughter. It was disbelief. "You know what? I take it back." William looked at me, confused.
"I was starting to wonder if maybe you had a point." I reached for the check. "But you’re both completely fucking insane."
I tore the check straight down the middle, the paper resisting for a brief moment before ripping.
Evelyn gasped, I tore it again. And again.
Then I dropped the shredded pieces onto the table like confetti at a terrible party.
"There," I said, staring them down. "You can keep your ten million."
William’s expression finally cracked. "You ungrateful—!"
I stood up. "Careful."
His eyes sparked with anger. "You have no idea what you’re doing!"
"Oh, I have a pretty good idea."
Evelyn got up too, smoothing her coat like it would somehow restore her dignity, like a wrinkle in cashmere was the real tragedy of the afternoon.
"You’re just a temporary distraction in his life, we can easily get rid of you in other ways."
"Funny." I shot her a glance. "Because you two seem terrified that I’m the one who’s permanent and his own family isn’t. How funny."
Her mouth tightened, William stepped closer. "You’re going to regret this."
"Maybe." I nodded toward the contract. "But at least I’ll regret it on my own terms."
He said something else, but I barely heard it. Because I was fixated on the coffee cup beside his hand, still steaming and way too tempting to ignore.
And honestly, after everything I’d just heard, it felt like a perfect way to use the drink.
I picked it up. William glanced at the cup, then at me.
"Don’t!"
I tossed the coffee right into his face. "Oops."
I wasn’t called Barista Boy for no reason.
The café fell silent, totally silent. Somewhere behind the counter, I heard someone make a small choking sound.
Probably Maya, who I was fairly sure had just witnessed the best and worst customer service moment of her entire employment history.
William stood frozen, coffee dripping from his hair and jacket, looking like a man who just realized that even money can’t save you from a college student making terrible decisions in public.
I smiled, probably the least sane smile I’ve ever worn. "That’s for hurting Damien."
I placed the empty cup back on the table carefully. "You two are such God-awful parents."
Evelyn stared at me, horrified. I grabbed my apron.
"It’s a miracle Damien didn’t turn out like either of you."
William’s face flushed. "You little faggot! I will make sure you and your damn father never live a happy life!"
I turned away before he could finish. I wasn’t interested in what he was going to call me or threaten me, and honestly, I didn’t care. I’d heard enough.
I left early.
I pushed through the café doors and stepped outside, the cold air hitting my face hard enough to remind me that I was shaking.
Not from fear, at least, I didn’t think it was fear. It was anger. It was humiliation.
It was the awful realization that while I had been focused on my father and trying to stay composed, Damien had been quietly making huge sacrifices behind my back because of me.
And now his parents knew, they knew everything, the money, the contract, the photos, the surgery...everything.
He had chosen me over his own family.
Was...was I even worth his sacrifice?
I pulled out my phone and looked at Damien’s name. My thumb hovered over it. I could call him.
I could demand an explanation. But instead, I shoved my phone back into my pocket. No.
Not over the phone, I needed to see his face, I needed him to tell me the truth himself.
By the time I got back to the dorm, I was still so furious I barely noticed how fast I’d walked there, my legs bypassing exhaustion for pure adrenaline. I pushed the door open.
"Damien?"
No response. I stepped further inside. He was at the desk with several books spread out, one hand against his temple while he read something on his laptop, the lamp beside him casting a cozy glow over everything, the kind of scene that under any other circumstances I’d have found unbearably endearing.
He looked up and smiled. That stupid, beautiful smile, the one that had somehow become one of my favorite things in the whole freaking world.
"Hey, Sunshine."
The anger inside me flickered. Just for a second, then I remembered the contract.
I pulled it from my bag. Damien’s smile vanished almost instantly. His eyes shifted from my face to the contract in my hand.
He froze. "Oliver."
"W...why?" My voice came out softer than I’d expected.
Damien stood slowly, pushing back his chair without his usual poise. "What happened?"
"Why did you keep this from me?"
His gaze fell to the contract. I watched as the realization washed over his face. The color drained slightly from it.
"You met them." It wasn’t a question.
I let out a bitter laugh.
"Yeah." I lifted the contract. "Your real loving parents showed up at my fucking job."
Damien’s jaw tightened. "What...what did they say to you?"
"Everything."
His eyes locked onto mine. I could see the tension in his body, the guarded look I’d seen whenever his family was discussed, that specific stillness he wore like armor, like if he just stood still enough none of it would be real.
"They showed me the photographs."
Damien stood completely still.
I swallowed. "They told me about the blackmail."
His expression hardened.
"They told me about the inheritance."
Silence.
"They told me you signed this." I stepped closer, trying my best not to let me emotions get the best of me. "They told me you threw away your entire future...for me."
"Oliver—"
"Why didn’t you just tell me?"
His gaze fell away. That hurt more than I anticipated.
"Look at me, Damien... please."
His eyes returned to mine.
"Why did you do that?"