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Damien didn’t respond right away. He just stood there, staring at me with that infuriatingly calm look he had, but it wasn’t so calm anymore.
By that point, I could tell when he was keeping it together and when he was barely managing to hold it together. Right now, it was definitely the latter.
His shoulders were tense, his jaw was tight, and his gaze kept darting between my face and the contract I held, as if that sheet of paper had betrayed him personally.
I hated that, I hated that he looked guilty. I hated that I walked in ready to demand some answers and somehow ended up feeling like I was the one hurting him.
What I hated most, though, was that I had no clue what I was supposed to do with all of this.
"Damien," I said again, a bit softer this time. "Why did you do that?"
He let out a slow breath through his nose and raked a hand through his hair, pushing the dark strands away from his forehead before letting them fall back in a messy way...something I’d come to recognize as his way of choosing his words with care.
"I didn’t want you to know."
"Yeah, I picked up on that, smart ass." His eyes looked up at mine. I shot him a weary glance. "The secret contract was a pretty big hint."
"I mean it, Oliver."
"So do I."
A beat of silence lingered between us. The room suddenly felt a lot smaller than it had just five minutes earlier.
The same dorm we’d spent weeks turning into our own cozy space now felt like the walls were closing in, the familiar furniture and warm glow from the lamp doing nothing to ease the tight knot forming in my chest.
Damien finally looked away. "I didn’t tell you, because you already had enough on your plate to deal with."
I stared at him. "That’s your explanation?"
"You were dealing with your father. Frank’s condition, the hospital bills, the way you barely slept, the way you smiled for everyone else while you were falling apart inside. I watched you carry all of that and I... I–"
His voice was quiet, but there was a firmness beneath it. "I wasn’t going to add my family’s issues on top of that. The blackmail, the photos, the contract...they were my mess to clean up...my family. I thought if I just handled it, if I signed and stayed quiet, you wouldn’t have to know how ugly it got."
I let out a bitter laugh, though it was devoid of humor. "Your family’s issues?"
"Yes."
"Damien, your family showed up at my job with a checkbook."
His expression darkened. "What did they say to you?"
"Just a bunch load of crap, but they pretty much told me everything."
"Right." His jaw tightened.
I watched him for another moment before shaking my head. "And you thought keeping all of this from me was in any way helpful?"
"I thought it was protecting you, that I was looking after you." He admitted as he deflated, "I’m so sorry, Oliver. I knew I should’ve told you regardless."
That hit harder than I expected. I glanced down at the contract in my hand, the signatures staring back at me like evidence from a crime scene, the ink somehow heavier than it had any right to be. "You gave up your inheritance."
"I don’t need it."
"You gave up your family."
Damien’s expression shifted slightly. "They gave up on me first, a long time ago."
Something twisted inside my chest. I hated how easily he said that.
Not because I thought he was wrong, I his family was fucking horrible but because he said it like he’d repeated that line so many times that it no longer hurt, like it had been worn smooth over years of quiet repetition.
"You...really don’t care?" I asked.
"About the inheritance?"
"About any of it."
He paused for a moment, then he shook his head. "No."
I frowned. "You’re telling me you’d willingly give up everything your family had planned for you?"
"Yes."
"Just like that?"
"It wasn’t just like that." He moved closer, stopping just a few feet away. "It took me a long time to realize that none of it was worth what they wanted me to be."
I swallowed hard. He looked at me then, really looked, and whatever he saw softened his expression.
"I chose you."
My heart did a painful little flip. He dragged a hand through his hair, the motion rough, and I noticed for the first time that his fingers were trembling the slightest bit.
"Choosing you over the inheritance wasn’t hard, Oliver. It was the easiest decision I’ve ever made in my life. I don’t regret it. I don’t feel bad about it."
Damien went on, "I would do it again tomorrow and the day after that and every day for the rest of my life if it meant keeping you by my side. The money, the estate, the name...none of it was ever going to be worth more than this. Than you."
He said softly as he stepped even closer. "I didn’t choose you out of anger at them, I didn’t choose you to prove something, I didn’t choose you to rebel against my family. You mean more to me than my own family ever did."
His thumb brushed beneath my eye, wiping my tears. "You keep talking about what I’ve lost."
I stared at him, confused.
"Do you know what I gained?" Damien asked.
I couldn’t answer.
"You."
My throat tightened. "Damien..."
"You really think I care about an inheritance when I have you?"
I laughed through my tears. "That’s a completely insane financial choice."
I wanted to believe the calm certainty in his voice, wanted to let the words settle the hot, restless thing still twisting under my ribs, but they only made the ache sharper.
"You still default to carrying everything alone," I said, and the anger and disbelief that had driven me across campus had already begun to thin into something softer and more dangerous.
"You hide bruises, you flinch when your phone lights up with their names. You tense every time your sister’s around. I saw all of it and I still didn’t push hard enough, and now I find out you signed away your entire future and turned your back on your family because of me and you didn’t even let me stand beside you while you did it."
The careful stillness he wore like armor whenever anyone mentioned the Lockwood name.
Conditional love dressed up as discipline.
Control disguised as parental concern.
I felt the anger drain out of me in a slow, painful rush, replaced by a sadness that sat heavy in my chest for him.
He had stood my side all this time, showing up to support me, care for me and comfort me when I was going through it.
But I never even realized he going through some shit of his own in silence.
"I’m sorry," I whispered as I struggled to hold back more tears, and I meant it for every moment he’d had to endure alone. "I’m so fucking sorry they did that to you...your own family who’s supposed to love you, no matter what."
Damien’s eyes softened, but he didn’t move closer yet. "Don’t, you didn’t do anything wrong."
But the spiral had already started, the Lockwoods’ words crawling back in and joining hands with every old fear I’d ever carried about not being enough.
He gave up everything. The inheritance. The security, the wealthy life they planned for him.
And for what? For a broke ass barista who used to live in a shitty dorm before his dumb best friend and former roommate set it on fire and whose dad is in the hospital and who can’t even keep a straight face when you tease him too hard.
Who also had huge trouble letting people in not matter how much he wanted to.
What if I was not even worth it?
Was I even deserving of this kind of love?
What if him being with me was the worst thing that’s ever happened to him?
What if I was the reason he’s losing everything that was supposed to be his?