Chapter 9 Wanna see my room

Chapter 9: Wanna see my room?

Damien said he wouldn't work during this getaway.

That they'd spend every second wrapped in each other's arms, away from the rest of the world.

But here he was-on a call again. The man who once said her smile was enough to shut out the noise of everything else.

Naomi sat by the large glass window of their cabin, knees pulled to her chest. The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of trees outside and the occasional gust of wind brushing against the windowpane.

Her eyes weren't on the view.

They were on everything she couldn't stop thinking about.

The photo Rachel found in the kitchen-how had it even gotten there? Naomi had been in that kitchen earlier. That picture wasn't there before.

Then the letter she found in Damien's drawer. The one he brushed off like it meant nothing, even though she could feel the fear under his calm words.

And now... Caroline. A woman who seemed to know her mother and also knew Damien. A woman Naomi had never seen before but felt oddly familiar. Who had shown up at the cemetery uninvited, said "See you soon" to Damien, and walked away like they shared secrets Naomi would never understand.

Her chest tightened.

Everything felt like a puzzle with missing pieces.

Naomi rubbed her arms, suddenly cold despite the warm light spilling into the room. Her gaze dropped to the floor, and without meaning to, her mind traveled back... to the beginning.

A few months after they met at the art gallery-after she'd called that ridiculous piece "a goat"-they started dating. Late night calls turned to dinner dates. Then weekend brunches. Then weekdays felt incomplete without hearing from him.

Naomi had been hesitant at first-just a little uncertain about letting Damien into her life. But now, here they were, two months into dating, and she had invited him over for dinner. It felt strange, yet exciting.

That evening had felt like a big deal. She had invited him to her apartment for the first time.

Naomi remembered how quickly she'd cleaned the place, stuffing pillows back into place, wiping surfaces that didn't need wiping. And after spending thirty minutes arguing with herself in the mirror, she finally settled on a soft pink gloss and a touch of eyeliner.

She was fluffing the couch cushions again when the doorbell rang.

When she opened the door, Damien stood there-casual in a black t-shirt and jeans, but looking like he'd stepped out of a magazine.

"Hi," she'd said, trying to sound calm, even though her heart was pounding.

"Hey," he grinned. "You look... wow."

"Thanks," Naomi said, a bit shy, but she couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. She was nervous, but it felt good having him there.

They sat down to eat, and Naomi found herself laughing more easily than she'd ever imagined. Damien's natural charm made the evening feel light and effortless. They talked about everything-work, family, life. Naomi felt like she was finally letting him see a side of her that wasn't just the woman who had recently lost her mother, the woman who carried so many unspoken emotions.

After they had eaten, Damien leaned back on the couch, his hand meeting hers.

"So, what's next?" he asked, his tone light and easy.

Naomi hesitated for a second before nodding. "You wanna see my room?" she asked, a little unsure, though she already knew the answer.

Damien grinned. "Sure," he said, standing up and following her down the hallway.

Naomi led him into her bedroom, which was simple, yet cozy. As soon as they stepped in, Damien's eyes immediately landed on the small photo frame on her bedside table. It was a picture of Naomi and her mother, both smiling brightly in the sun, their arms around each other. Naomi had always kept it on her nightstand, a constant reminder of the woman who had shaped her.

Naomi's heart ached slightly as she saw him look at it. The photo had been there for as long as she could remember.

"Is this your mom?" Damien asked softly, moving closer to the picture.

"Yeah," Naomi replied, her voice a little tight. "It's... it's been just a year and five months since she passed. It still feels strange, sometimes. Like I can't believe she's really gone."

Damien's expression softened, and he took a step closer to her, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand. "I'm really sorry," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

Naomi smiled at him, appreciating the gesture more than he would ever know. "Thank you," she whispered. "It's still hard. It was actually Rachel who made me go to the art gallery. She basically dragged me out, and then-well-she ditched me there, all alone." Naomi chuckled a little at the memory.

Damien raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a playful grin. "Oh, so she abandoned you at the art gallery? And then what? I came to your rescue, huh?" he teased, making her laugh.

"You could say that," Naomi replied with a smile. "If she hadn't made me go, I never would've met you."

Damien leaned in, his teasing smile turning into something more tender as he gently cupped her face. "Glad she did then," he said quietly before his lips brushed hers in a soft, comforting kiss.

Damien stretched beside her, the sound of his movement pulling Naomi back to the present.

She could clearly remember Damien's reaction that night-his expression, like he was seeing her mother for the very first time. Maybe Damien doesn't know my mum, but his parents do. But why had they acted so strange when she mentioned her mother's name? As if they had never met her.

And then there was Caroline. Naomi shivered at the thought of the woman's unsettling calmness. She had claimed to be a "business partner" with her mother, yet she knew Damien too. What the hell was going on?

Too many things didn't add up.