Wilted Love

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Chapter 9

‘Endamien’ I screeched jumping on to his arms instinctively, completely forgetting Night was by my side, until I heard a low almost growl like sound coming from behind me. Damien opened his arms wide embracing me tightly, my head resting on his chest listening to his rapid heartbeat. I quickly let go of Damien when Night’s jealous demeanour kept resurfacing in forms of distasteful utterances. As I preyed myself off of Damien, I couldn’t help but blush under his warm yet intense stare. Night’s arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to him, as if claiming to his brother that I was his.

’What a pleasant surprise.′ Night couldn’t even try to hide his annoyance. Damien shrugged his brother’s childish behaviour, shaking his head as he laughed.

‘Nice to see you too, little brother.’ Night brushed his brother’s comment off as if it was nothing, walking past his older brother, not uttering a single word. He kept me even closer whilst Damien kept smiling down at me.

‘Ah, welcome my handsome son!’ Mrs Anson walked inside the marbled foyer, her hands wide open as she embraced her son, kissing both his cheeks and admiring him. Once her eyes trailed to me, she couldn’t contain her disgust as she stared me down.

‘Huh, with all the money we spend on you, you’d think you’d know how to dress.’ She mutters under her breath, repulsed by my choice of outfit. Insecurity swept over me. Clearly my chunky tanned jumper and leather skirt not good enough for her. I gave her a sheepish smile - not knowing what else to do, I waited for Night’s commands.

‘Shall we get seated my dear son?’ Her question sounding more like a demand then a question, me and Night followed suite. I felt a hand wrap around my arm, gently tugging me backwards, making me stop in my tracks and turning around, already knowing who would be behind me. And there he stood - Endamien Anson - the eldest of the Anson sons, as well as the complete opposite of his family. He stood there with a cheeky grin plastered on his face, his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he slowly swayed back and forth. I raised an eyebrow at him, waiting patiently for him to speak. However we stood in an comfortable silence, just starring at each other and trying to not laugh. That was until the wretched sound of his mother resonated across the ground floor, causing both Damien and I to wince at her voice. We both let out a small breathless laughter, making it back into the living room.

‘I hope you don’t mind, I invited Alosia over, the poor girl is all alone.’ Mrs Anson spoke in a fretful tone, although her concern wasn’t towards me, the fiancé, but rather at her son, Damien. Their mother couldn’t care less about my feelings - everyone knew that Aloisa had strong feelings for Night, Mrs Anson knew this extremely well. Something about her makes everyone bow and kiss the floor she walks on, everyone except Francis, and now we shall see if Damien is bewitched by her wicked spell.

‘I- Doesn’t she have a thing for Night?’ Damien scoffed, as he sat down, looking at his brother. I took a seat between the brothers on the couch. Night gave us a side glare, shaking his head and sighing heavily.

‘She just appreciates me.’ Night spoke with admiration, with no regards to how that comment would make me feel, as his supposed fiancé. Mrs Anson happily chirped in agreeing with her son. He continued to gush about how amazing she was, how many redeeming qualities she had, qualities I allegedly lacked according to Mrs Anson. The continued without a care of how this made me feel, every words, every sentence they spoke, felt as if someone was drawing a dagger down my hurt, tearing a piece of me with each word. I silently sighed, starring at sweater, picking at the fayed strings. Damien’s tattooed hand grabbed mine, gently squeezing my hand. I looked up at him, shock plastered across my face. A weary smile across his face, he quickly let go of my hand and interrupted Night’s and Mrs Anson’s admiration talk.

‘You should be ashamed of yourself, brother.’ Damien hissed. Night’s head whipped towards us, glaring down. I quickly looked down, too afraid to meet his eyes.

‘And what have you done to this poor girl? She looks petrified of you!’ Damien stood up, gesturing towards me. I briefly looked up at Damien with pleading eyes, in hopes he wouldn’t continue. Although I appreciate the back up, at the end it is I who has to deal with Night in the end, and worse behind close doors.

He isn’t the sweet loving Night I had met 13 years ago, the timid boy who’d always hide behind his older brother. He was no longer the funny, caring Night who’d hold me during my darkest moments, who’d wipe the tears away and help me through everything. He had changed ever since that business trip, ever since then... Weirdly enough, there is where he met Aloisa, his ‘business partner’ who’d always make sure to be around Night - heck, if I were someone else I’d assume they’re dating. Alas, there’s no proof of any scandals, although plenty of red flags. Deep down, I’m torn into two parts. I don’t want to believe she’d be horrific enough to go for a man who’s already taken, and Night not-- well I guess I can expect that from Night with his recent actions.

’I’ve done nothing apart from show her endless love.′ I shivered at the word Night used. Endless love... There was no love between us, not anymore. Mrs Anson kept trying to intervene, trying to calm her boys down, whilst I stayed still on the couch, with Night’s words replaying in my head, completely blocking out the argument between the two men. I wanted to scream, to them to stop. Although Damien’s intentions are pure, he doesn’t understand the difficult position I am in, with a man who’s emotions are unstable, unpredictable.

‘What’s this commotion happening under my roof?’ A deep orotund voice echoed across the living room. We all whipped our heads towards the disembodied voice, although we knew very well who’s voice that was - Mr Anson. He slowly walked towards us, starring at all of us before stopping a few steps away.

‘What’s going on here?’ He rose his eyebrow, scanning the room and awaiting for an answer. That’s when Mrs Anson found it upon herself to answer him, and of course inaccurately.

‘It’s that wretched brat .’ She snarled, looking at me with disgust evident on her face. I looked at her, my mouth open in shock. Damien opened his mouth to speak, however, his father stopped him before he could utter a coherent word.

‘My daughter-in-law?’ Mr Anson looked at me in disbelief, before shaking his head, bursting out in a pleasant laughter. ‘What a funny joke, Auriella ...’ He trailed off, before taking a seat next his wife. She tried to protest, although Mr Anson was having none of her bitchy-fits.


After a while Aloisa had come, and once again, she was all over Night, and I couldn’t do anything about it, and whenever I tried, I was discarded to the side, with everyone drowning out my voice. I slowly got up, escaping the scene quietly and unnoticed. I toddled towards their balcony on the first floor, taking a deep breath.

‘Too loud in there?’ Damien’s voice startling me. I looked back and shock my head, facing forward once again. He settled next to me, as we silently watch the clouds move around in the sky. ‘Diora...’ his voice trailing off. I looked at him to see a concerned look washed on his faced.
‘What’s going on between you and him?’ I sighed deeply, not knowing how to answer his question. Truthfully, I have no idea either. He continued to probe around, trying to get an answer from me. ‘I was gone for a long time, Ora, and when I had left, you both were like teenagers with raging hormones.’ He scuffed, as his face scrunched up. I gave him a weary smile, confused by his choice of wordings, as if he was completely oblivion of what’s happened in the last 7 years.

‘We broke up, three years ago Damien.’ I turned to face the sky, not wanting him to see the pain upon my face, which I tried my best to cover behind a smile.

‘What- why are you with him then?’ He mirrored my actions, awaiting for a response. I titled my head towards him, once again with a ghost of a smile lingering on my face.

‘We’re bound to a contract, Damien.’

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