112 Chapter 115
Chapter 115 – Tender Wounds, Daring Questions
I bit my lip to muffle a whimper as the doctor removed the final needle from my knee. Despite Damien’s comforting presence behind me, the pain was excruciating. The treatment had gone on for what felt like hours, and by the end, I couldn’t hold back anymore. A tear slipped down my cheek, followed by another.
“Almost done,” the doctor said gently.
Damien’s arms tightened around me. “Breathe, Hazel, he whispered, his lips brushing my ear. “Just a little longer.”
When the last needle was finally out, I let out a strangled sob and turned my face into Damien’s chest. His hand came up to cradle my head as I cried quietly against him.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, stroking my hair. “You did so well.”
The doctor applied a cooling gel to my knee and wrapped it in a compression bandage. “The area will be tender for a day or two. Keep it elevated, apply ice, and take the medication as prescribed,” he instructed before excusing himself from the room.
I stayed nestled against Damien, embarrassed by my tears but too drained to move. His shirt was damp beneath my cheek, but he didn’t seem to mind.
After a few minutes, he tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Better?”
I nodded, wiping at my face. “Sorry about your shirt.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “I own others.” He brushed a tear from my cheek with his thumb. “Who would have guessed the fierce Hazel Ashworth would cry over a few tiny needles?”
“They weren’t tiny,” I protested weakly.
“No? They looked microscopic to me.” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Perhaps this is retribution.”
I frowned. “For what?”
“For all the times you’ve pricked your fingers with sewing needles, of course.” He kept a
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straight face, but I could see the laughter in his eyes. “The universe demands balance:
Despite myself, I let out a watery laugh. “That’s absurd.”
hair.
“Is it? I’m quite certain it’s karmic justice. His fingers combed through my soothing me. “Though I must say, you’re much prettier when you cry than most. people.”
“Now you’re just lying”
“I never lie to you, Hazel.” His tone shifted, becoming serious. “Ready to go?”
Before I could answer, he’d slid out from behind me and stood. In one fluid motion, he lifted me into his arms again.
“I can use crutches, I said half–heartedly.
“And risk you falling again? I don’t think so.” He carried me out to the waiting car as if I weighed nothing.
The ride to my apartment building was quiet. I leaned against Damien’s shoulder, too exhausted to maintain proper distance. When we arrived, he carried me through the lobby, ignoring the wide–eyed stares of the security guard and a couple waiting for the
elevator.
Inside my apartment, he headed straight for my bedroom and gently set me down on the bed.
do you keen
“Where your pajamas?” he asked, looking around.
“Second drawer,” I pointed to my dresser. “But I can manage-
He was already pulling out a silky pajama set. “Arms up, he commanded, setting the bottoms aside.
“Damien, you don’t have to-
“Arms. Up. His tone left no room for argument.
Face burning, I raised my arms and let him pull my blouse over my head, leaving me in my bra. He kept his eyes carefully trained on my face as he helped me into the pajama top, buttoning it with deft fingers.
“Now the bottoms,” he said, hands moving to the waistband of my pants.
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“I’ll do it.” I insisted, grabbing his wrists. “Please.”
He studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Call when you’re ready.”
He stepped out, closing the door behind him. I changed as quickly as my injury. allowed, then called him back. He returned with a glass of water and my prescription
medication.
“Take these,” he said, handing me the pills. Tve put ice in a bag and set up pillows on your sofa to elevate your knee. I thought you might prefer to rest there rather than in bed all evening
His thoughtfulness made my chest tighten. “Thank you.”
Once again, he lifted me without warning and carried me to the living room, arranging me carefully on the sofa with my knee propped up on pillows. The ice pack went on top, the cold immediately numbing the throbbing pain.
“Better?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the coffee table.
I nodded. “Much.”
He watched me for a long moment. “You should consider staying at my place while you
recover.”
“What?” The suggestion caught me off guard.
“My home has staff who could help you, medical equipment if needed, and I could ensure you’re properly cared for.”
I shook my head. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” I struggled to articulate my jumbled thoughts. “Im still technically married, for one thing.”
His jaw tightened infinitesimally. “A technicality that will be resolved soon.”
“And because it wouldn’t be appropriate,” I continued. “I won’t ue another source of gossip in your life.”
“I don’t care about gossip.”
C
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“Well, I do,” I insisted. “And I have principles, Damien. I won’t be the woman who moves in with a man while still married to another.”
His expression softened. “Even if your marriage exists only on paper?”
“Even then.” I sighed. “Plus, I can manage here. I’ve survived worse than a knee injury alone.”
Something flashed in his eyes at that–a mixture of concern and something darker. But he didn’t push further.
“At least let me arrange for a nurse to check on you.”
I started to refuse, then saw the determination in his eyes. “Fine. But only for a few days.
He stood, apparently satisfied with this concession. “I should let you rest.”
“Wait.” I caught his hand. “I need to apologize.”
He raised an eyebrow. “For?”
“For not telling you about the team retreat. For sneaking away. I should have been upfront with you.”
Damien sat down again, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of my hand. “Why weren’t you?”
I swallowed hard. “You’ve been so… present lately. I thought a weekend apart might be good for both of us.”
“Good how?” His voice was dangerously quiet.
“You’ve been giving so much of yourself to me. Your time, your attention, your resources. I thought you might need space.”
His eyes narrowed. “That’s not the real reason.”
I looked away. “It’s part of it.”
“What’s the rest?” When I didn’t answer immediately, he added, “You’ve been different these past few days. Distant. Someone said something to you, didn’t they?”
My head snapped up. “How did you-*
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“Who was it?”
I hesitated, then sighed. “Your grandfather.
Damien’s expression hardened. “What exactly did he say?”
“Nothing I hadn’t already thought myself,” I admitted. “That I’m not from your world. That being with me could harm your reputation and business.”
“And you believed him.”
“I believe he was concerned for you,” I said carefully. “And honestly, Damien, he’s not wrong. You’re Sterling Heights royalty. I’m the daughter of a criminal who’s currently designing clothes in a makeshift studio.”
“Is that how you see yourself?”
“It’s what I am,” I whispered, my throat tight. “And I’m terrified of dragging you down or becoming a burden. Everything was so much simpler when this was just about repaying a debt.”
“But it’s not anymore, is it?” His voice was softer now.
I met his eyes, finding I couldn’t lie to him. “No. It’s not. And that scares me even more.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m falling for you,” I confessed, the words escaping before I could stop them. “And I’m not sure I can handle having my heart broken again. Especially not by you.”
Damien was silent for a long moment. Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to my forehead, lingering there. “Do you really think I would let anything come between
us now?”
The intensity in his eyes made my breath catch. “Damien-”
“Rest,” he said, cutting me off. “We’ll talk more tomorrow when you’re feeling better. I’ll pick you up for your follow–up appointment at ten.”
“I can get myself there,” I profested weakly. “Or Victoria can help me.”
He simply gave me a look that said the matter was closed. “Ten o’clock, Hazel:
After he left, I stared at the ceiling, wondering how I’d ended up here–injured,
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confused, and hopelessly falling for a man so far above my station that the idea of us together seemed like fantasy. My knee throbbed beneath the ice pack, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.
The next morning, Victoria arrived early with coffee and breakfast. “Spill it, she demanded, settling beside me. “Cherry texted me everything–well, everything she saw. Namely, the illustrious Damien Sterling carrying you off like a romantic hero.”
I groaned. “It wasn’t like that.”
“No? Because that’s exactly what it looked like to everyone at the lodge.” She sipped her coffee, studying me over the rim. “He kissed your forehead in front of everyone”
“Don’t remind me.” I covered my face with my hands.
“And then whisked you away to some fancy private hospital. She nudged my good leg “I want details. All of them.”
I reluctantly filled her in on the treatment and Damien’s care afterward, omitting our more intimate conversation. She listened with a wicked grin growing on her face.
“He undressed you?” she squealed.
“Partially. And it was completely clinical,” I insisted, though my cheeks heated at the memory.
“Sure it was.” Her eyes sparkled. “He’s coming to get you this morning?”
Before I could answer, there was a knock at the door.
“That’s him,” I said, checking the time. “He’s early.”
Victoria jumped up. “I’ll get it! You stay put.”
“Vicki, wait-
k again by how But she was already opening the door. I heard her cheerful greeting and Damien’s deeper response. When they entered the living room, I was s impossibly handsome he was, dressed in a casual navy sweater and dark jeans that somehow looked runway–ready.
“Good morning,” he said, setting a bag on my coffee table. “I brought you proper breakfast. No offense,” he added to Victoria.
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She waved it off. “None taken. I brought gossip, which is much more important them
nutrition.”
Damien’s lips twitched in what might have been a smile. He turned to me. How are you feeling?”
“Better,” I said, which wasn’t entirely a lie. The pain had dulled to a persistent ache
He nodded, seeming to assess me with those penetrating eyes. “Good We should get going soon.”
Victoria tilted her head, studying him with unabashed curiosity. Then, without warning, she asked, “Mr. Sterling, when did you first fall for Hazel!?
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