Faking it with Damian Black by Louise Jane

Chapter 60

-MILLIE-

Would it be strange if I said that I was not as affected by this kidnapping fiasco

as I should be?

Everyone kept askinghow I was doing and how I was dealing with the

trauma of being taken.

I said, ‘I’m fine,’ ‘I’m okay,’ but the look on their faces toldthey believed

otherwise when, in fact, I was being honest.

What were they expecting? I’d be hiding in my room, and I’d stop working, dig a

hole underground, and hide there, dreading I’d be taken again?

I was shaken, yes, but mostly, I was just grateful I made it out of there alive.

Scared? Maybe a little. These couple of days, I get easily spooked. One time, I

was reading a book on Kindle inside my room, and Mom knocked on my door; I

dropped my phone on my lap. In my defense, the female lead in the book was

being haunted by ghosts. There was another instance where a squirrel appeared

out of nowhere, jumping over my feet as I was getting into my car. I squealed at

the top of my lungs. I might have woken up the entire neighborhood.

But these were simple, mundane things. A part of my everyday life even before I

was kidnapped.

What concernedthe most was how my family and friends were treating me

like a fragile porcelain doll.

It had been two weeks since I’d been discharged from the hospital. I wanted to

get back to work the next working day, but Candice and Andrea toldI should

take the month off.

How could I even do that when we’re already behind schedule because of me?

My mom, oh, don’t even getstarted with her. She stayed in Roslin City just to

take care of me. She insisted I stay at their place for now. Damian didn’t argue

with her on the matter, not that I was expecting him to. I just thought he’d want

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to take care of me, just like before. Then, he went on a business trip the same

day I was discharged without tellingwhen he’d get back.

I was a little disappointed because of that. Well, maybe more than a little, but I

knew better. That’s the downside of spending a lot of twith someone. You

get accustomed to their tells, and I knew he was lying.

Now that Natalie confessed, I know Damian won’t rest until he finds Aidan.

Natalie’s

Chapter 60

sworn statement reinforced my case against Rome. Yet even with this

development, Rome’s l*ps were still sealed on who paid him to threaten me. He

stood by his statement that we knew each other.

Silvemoved Sonja to France, and she’d been rasilent since. Rumor has it

that they’re now processing their divorce.

Three weeks. That’s how long Damian had been out of town. I miss him. He

hasn’t messaged or called, and I’m drowning myself in work just to stop myself

from reaching out to him. I kept convincing myself he needed space and he’d

cback when he missed me, but as the days rolled into weeks, those

thoughts becrepetitive and meaningless.

A dizzying merry–go–round of why Damian would cback toand why he

shouldn’t keep circling in my head.

His secret was out. The public learned about his relationship with Sonja. That

was the sole reason he had been within the first place. Then our

conversation in the beach house would cforth, a reminder that Damian had

ended the contract and started a new one. He said I was his to protect and take

care of, but then, aren’t promises meant to be broken?

These conclusions were on my mind when I was not busy, hence the overloading

myself with work. It keptsane.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Mom, sporting her purple fiuffy robe, stepped out on

the deck with two cups of coffee at hand. Her hair was lazily pulled up in a bun,

and her face had no trace of makeup. She was beautiful with or without

makeup, but this had been an unusual sight for me.

“Would you believeif I say I’m not thinking of anything?” I said, accepting

the cup she offered with both hands. I sighed in relief as it warmed my palms.

She regardedwith her motherly eyes, smiling willfully. “I’m your mom. I can

tell when you’re being dishonest.”

I looked back at the street I’d been staring at since I went out earlier. About an

hour or so, I’m not sure. I’ve counted red cars that passed by, a gDad and I

used to play while eating ice cream until I was eight. I totaled five.

“Mothers,” I sighed, then sipped my coffee.

Mom sat besideon the wooden swing chair. The chains groaned as they

swung gently. This house had becour vacation house as soon as I left for

college. This swing has rarely been used since then. I was worried it would give

out with our combined weight.

Chapter 60

It was a gloomy Friday afternoon. The temperature was starting to drop a few

degrees as fall drew nearer.

Silence swelled between us. Mom sat beside me, throwing no questions at all.

Mom’s company was comforting. I don’t know how she does that. It must be a

motherly thing.

I was brought back to the times she sat here withand waited forto stop

crying. The reasons for my tears becinconsequential as I grew older, but I

would never forget Mom sitting here with me, accompanyingin my sorrows.

Mom was patient. Sometimes, it would take hours for my tears to run dry, but

she’d sat there the whole tuntil I was ready to say my piece.

My gaze dropped to the dark liquid inside my mug, and I sighed. “I’m really okay,

Mom, don’t worry about me.”

She replied without missing a beat. “Sure.”

I narrowed my eyes on her. She kept her focus on the street. “Really, mom. You

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need to stop worrying.”

“Alright, honey,” she murmured, sipping her drink.

Her tone madefrown. My brows knitted together. “I’m fine.”

Her expression softened as she gazed at me, reaching for my hand. “I know,

sweetheart.”

Her thumb, rough with all the hard work she’d done when she was younger,

skimmed over my knuckles. Something in her stare made my l*ps tremble, and

my eyes sting. I blinked away the water gathering on my eyelids and focused on

the cedar tree on the corner of our lawn. Mom’s thumb, skimming over my skin,

shot warming electricity straight through my heart. She dragged my defenses

down with her touch until it crumbled beneath my feet.

I didn’t realize I was crying until Mom swiped her thumb over my eyes.

“I’m fine, Mom,” I sobbed, “why won’t you believe me?”

She smiled atand said nothing, cupping the side of my head and guiding my

cheek against her shoulder.

Her motherly touch was magic. How could anyone explain what Mom did to

me?

We stayed on the swing until darkness overthrew the daylight. She didn’t ask me

anything. I didn’t say a word, but something changed in me. My ch*st felt lighter.

My

mind wasn’t as jaded as it had been since the hospital.

“I’m going to see your father tomorrow,” Mom said when I detached myself from

her embrace. “Why don’t you cwith me?”