EVA'S POV
I don't know how long I sat there. On the cold floor, with arms wrapped around myself like it would stop the way my body trembled.
But nothing could.
Not even the belief I kept holding onto like a lifeline — that he didn't mean it and that Damien wasn't himself, he was drunk and tired.
Because if he meant it… if those words were real…
I let out a shaky breath. My lips parted in a silent cry as I pressed my forehead to my knees, my tears falling harder now.
It didn't feel like heartbreak. It felt like destruction. Like something inside me had been clawed out and shattered into dust.
And yet… somewhere beneath all the pain, all the humiliation and hurt, a small fragile hope refused to die. Maybe he was protecting me. Maybe—
"Eva."
The soft voice came with the light touch, a hand rested on my shoulder. I flinched, quickly wiping my face as I looked up.
