Chapter 62

Damon

Fuck.

Fuck.

What the hell have I done?

Why did I lie to her?

I kept pacing the bathroom like a fucking maniac, trying to get my breath back, trying to ground myself in something that wasn’t the memory of her cunt squeezing me like it was sculpted to break men apart.

The air in the room was thick with steam and the smell of sweat and sex. My skin was still burning from the way her nails raked down my chest, from the way her mouth trembled when she asked me the question I never wanted to hear—why did you keep her photo?

And I lied.

Not because I’m a coward. Not because I’m cold.

But because I didn’t want what we have to end.

That was the fucking truth.

That’s the part I didn’t say.

I didn’t tell her my wife was still alive that Camilla lost her mind because of her drinking and drug habit.

I didn’t tell Lyra that I sent Camilla to rehab not because I loved her, but because she was a menace and ne