Me: Thought we'd grab a dinner together but it seems like you're not at home. Bummer :(  

This is the text I sent to Damien the previous day and I did not receive any answer. And this morning, when preparing for the work, the doubts start to creep in. Is it really a coincidence that Damien would suddenly stop texting me back after we slept together? 

He's like that with every other woman. What would make me different than them? He got what he wanted, anyway. Maybe I'm not interesting anymore ...

My stomach has been in a cramp since yesterday and this morning, I can't even think about the food. And me not thinking about food is something that has never happened before. Also, me not being hungry is a new feeling, too. 

And when I walk down the stairs and come to the main entrance, I spot Damien, stretching after his morning run. He's sweaty, his clothes are clinging to his body and my mouth waters. I stop in my tracks and he doesn't notice me at first. 

"Damien," I say. I notice how he stops what he's doing and he freezes, his muscles tightening.

He slowly turns to look at me and gives me a crooked, awkward smile. "Brooke. Hi," he says back with a neutral tone.

I cock my head to the side.  "You didn't get my text?" I say flatly, not beating around the bush. 

Damien clears his throat and avoids my gaze. "Uh, yeah. I forgot to answer."

I narrow my eyes. "You forgot to answer ..." I repeat with slight disbelief noticeable in my tone of voice. 

Damien nods, still not looking at me. 

The realisation suddenly hits me. He's brushing me off. Like all of his other one night stands. I huff to myself and shake my head. Pathetic. I'm so pathetic for even thinking it meant anything more to him.

That's who he is. That's what he does. I'm nothing special, not enough to change his opinion, at least. I'm mad at myself for being stupid enough to make myself believe we actually had some deeper connection. Yes, maybe I felt it. But he, apparently, didn't. 

"You're obviously busy so I'll just let you be," I tell him, hiding my emotions from him. I will not give him the satisfaction to see me hurt or, worse, to beg for his attention. 

I hold my head up high and fake my confidence. "See you around," I casually throw at him as I go past him.

I see his confused look and I'm satisfied. No, Damien Knox, maybe you have other women begging for you, but I am not going to. You're not going to see me kneel in front of you.

He already did, dumbass.

Did I mention how much I hate my common sense sometimes? 

I sit in my car and drive away, not giving Damien another glance. Only when I'm out of his sight, I let a few tears wet my face. Because I can not hold it in much longer. 

    ◊      

Me: Did I do something that you avoid me or something? I'm really confused. Please answer me.  

It was my moment of weakness that made me send him another text after a few days. He was obviously avoiding me, and if he did see me, our conversation didn't move past 'hey' and 'nice to see you, I have to run'. 

Fuck you, too. 

I think him ignoring me hurts more than a flat out rejection from him would. He could tell me that it didn't mean anything to him and that I shouldn't expect anything from our night together. That it was just another one night stand for him. I would understand. I would.

It would hurt. But at least he didn't have to feed me lies about how this might be more than just one night with him. He made me think that, I did not imagine it. And I hate him even for that. 

Tonight, I'm pathetically sitting at home. I didn't go out with my girls because I pretended I'm sick. Yes, that's how low I've fallen. But, truthfully, I was not in a mood to go out and pretend how happy and joyful I am when I just want to lie on my couch and cry to myself.

I don't cry. I don't let myself cry over something like this. He's just another man out of many, after all. 

As much as I believe in coincidences, I also believe in fate. And if fate didn't bring Damien in my life with the reason for him to be the man of my life, it definitely brought him to teach me an important lesson. Never trust men who are known seducers. They tend to lie to get their way.

I scoff, mindlessly going through the TV channels. There's a knock at my door. I just sigh and continue shifting through the TV channels.

The knocking comes yet again. I'm not in the mood for any company. And I know it's no one I want to see. Because those who I'd want to see, know me well enough to know not to knock anymore by now.

"Brooke!" I freeze at that voice. I eye the door sceptically as if the man outside is going to burst in any second. Which he could. If he wanted.

I huff. I'm not in the mood to deal with him, especially after a few days of him giving me the cold shoulder. Two can play this game, honey. 

I'm not chasing him. If he thought I'd fall that low, he's sadly mistaken. I want him. But I treasure myself a bit more than that. I'm not letting him get his way and manipulate me. He's got enough of other women to do that with. 

"Brooke! I know you're at home!" he shouts. "I saw your car!" 

I roll my eyes and keep browsing through the uninteresting TV channels, not really looking at what's happening on that screen anymore. I'm too distracted by knowing Damien Knox is standing outside my door. I may be mad at him, but I'm still curious what he wants.

"Come on now, moro!"

My eyebrow twitches at hearing that familiar word come from his mouth again. I sigh to myself as I stand up and take my time to go to the door. I slowly open it and put on my mask of disinterest. "Hello. You decided to stop ignoring me?" I ask him nonchalantly.

Damien looks straight into my eyes. As he leans into me, I smell the alcohol on him and I scrunch my nose up, leaning my head back. "Ignoring went in both ways, agapi." 

I cross my arms on my chest and I see his drunk eyes falling on my breasts. I want to roll my eyes. "Is there anything you need? I'm kind of busy, so if you don't mind ..." Busy wallowing in my self-pity. And there's no room for one more, this is a party of one only. 

Damien straightens up from his slumped posture against the doorframe. He tries to look over my head, but I hold the door in his way. "Do you have ... company?" he asks with a guttural sound following.

I scowl. "That's literally none of your business?" I shake my head. I can not believe how far he's letting himself go now. How he's acting right now. 

Damien scowls right back at me. "The hell it isn't," he says and he catches me by surprise when he comes into the flat, pushing me aside. He looks around and I see his shoulders visibly relax. "You're alone," he comments. He turns his gaze on me, his eyes flaming with fire. "Completely alone." 

He starts coming for me and I widen my eyes. "Yeah, and I'd like it to stay that way. It was nice to have this chat with you." I wave at him, trying to get him out of my flat. 

Damien doesn't stop walking forward. He set his eye on me and he's not leaving until he gets what he wants. 

I gulp and plant my feet down, refusing to show him any discomfort. I'm not letting him get to me. Once was enough, thank you. "Come show me your bedroom," he says with a slight grin on his face.

I look at him as if he's lost his mind. "Are you crazy? You're drunk. And I thought you already got your fill of me?" I ask sarcastically, trying to hide the bitter in my voice, but failing miserably. 

Damien's face gets all serious. "I'll never get my fill of you," he tells me darkly.

"Aren't you all about use 'em and leave 'em type of a man?" I want to know.

Damien shakes his head. "I think I'll try that use them and keep them with you. I heard it works for others."

My traitorous heart flutters at hearing these words come out of his mouth. Another promise you won't keep, Knox? 

But then he's on me. Literally. Kissing me, taking me off guard. I groan into his mouth. I'm lost. Completely. I can't fight against him, especially not when he's got his mouth on me. 

I taste gin on his tongue and even though the taste of it has always been disgusting to me; on him, it's the best thing I've tasted in my whole life. 

Damien starts pushing me backwards into my bedroom, not breaking our kiss. When he throws me on the bed and wants to undress his dress shirt that's carelessly tucked into his trousers, I stop him with my hand. "Oh, no. Don't even bother. I'm not having sex with you."

Damien stops what he's doing and looks at me like a small child. "Why the hell not?" He whines. 

I arch my eyebrow at him. Do I really need to say it out loud or are you're going to figure it out on your own?

Damien sits down on the edge of the bed and goes through his hair with his hands in despair. He then turns to me with a mischievous grin on his face, pulling me onto his lap. "There might be no sex for me tonight, but I sure as hell plan to make out with you. All. Night. Long," he says against my throat. "Kissing every inch of your skin." 

I don't know how I succeed, but tonight, we're just making out a lot before Damien fell asleep in my bed.

I finally got to know how it feels to be held by Damien Knox. 

   ◊   

After a few days of our fateful night together, I'm knocking on his door again. Pissed yet again because he left with no answers and ignored me yet again. And I demand answers now. I want to lay our cards on the table and finally say what's happening with us.

I won't let him get my hopes up, only to crush them the next day again. It's exhausting. No matter how much I crave his presence, I'm not willing to play this game with him. 

There's no answer and with one last loud angry thud on the door, I turn around, ready to walk back down in my flat.

An old woman walks upstairs and I give her the space to go past me. "Are you looking for that young man?" she asks me.

I nod my head, a bit surprised she decided to speak to me.

"I think he moved today," she tells me nonchalantly.

"Moved?" I ask her and then chuckle. "No, no, maybe he just went somewhere and he's still not back." When I try to go down the stairs, the old woman stops me again.

"I am pretty sure I've seen the trucks taking his things away. He was also making a lot of noise with his luggage and I had to check, you know," she tells me, leaning on the fence.

I give the woman a tight smile. "I'm sure that wasn't it. I've seen him a few days ago and he didn't mention anything about leaving." My heart is starting to beat faster in my chest. Leaving? Where would he go?

Maybe this woman mistook someone else for Damien and someone else might move away. "Thank you for telling me. I'm Brooke, by the way," I give her a smile small.

"Josephine." The woman nods and I tell her goodbye before I go back down to my flat. I type Damien a text on my way.

Me: I want your ass to either pick your phone up or answer the door the next time I knock. We need to talk.

The next day, my text goes unanswered and Damien still doesn't open the door, even though I've searched for him for three times already.

Me: Avoiding me yet again? Really mature.

A few days pass and it's still silence on his part.

Me: WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU

But when a month passes and I don't get a response for him, nor do I get to see him anymore or his car anywhere, I realise that that woman might be right.

And it's only now that my confusion turns into pain and I finally let myself cry like a baby on the bedroom floor until Sam comes home in the late hours to comfort me. 

Hey, hey! I realised I love to write about men being assholes ... Because, well, they are (some). 

I hope you like this story so far. I just posted chapter 31 on radish today if you're interested in reading more of it.

x

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