Do You Still Love Me When We Meet Again? (Aubrey and Damon) novel Chapter 10

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Mera

The hurricane had raged for a full day, the torrential rain never letting up.

Maple Hill Condos was a chaotic wreck; newly planted saplings and old, sprawling trees alike were blown askew, broken, and lying prone.

Many low–lying roads and underground parking garages were completely flooded.

Maple Hill Condos couldn’t escape the same fate.

Damon received a notification from property management early that morning: the underground parking lot was flooded.

He, however, remained unfazed.

By noon yesterday, he had already driven his car out and parked it in a high–rise parking garage a couple of miles away.

Though the wind had lessened, the heavy rain continued. It was dark and gloomy outside, and the floodwaters were rising higher and higher.

Damon’s internal clock was always consistent. He woke up early, got ready, and prepared to make breakfast.

He took eggs, noodles, greens, and scallions out of the refrigerator.

She didn’t eat scallions.

Damon hesitated for a few seconds, then put the scallions back in the refrigerator.

Inside the bedroom.

Aubrey stirred awake to the sound of her phone ringing.

Not quite fully awake, she drowsily fumbled for her phone, answered it, and held it to her ear.

From the other end of the phone, her managing partner’s voice came through, laden with stern anger and accusation:“Hayes, what in God’s name did you do? The client for the trademark infringement case just called to complain about you! She said you’re unprofessional, have a terrible temper, an utterly atrocious attitude, and that you were rude and completely out of line. What exactly did you do to her? She’s not planning to give the case to our firm anymore. Give me a reasonable explanation!”

Aubrey couldn’t be bothered to explain. “Mr. Miller,” she said unhurriedly, “she might not even own a company, and the trademark infringement probably doesn’t exist. She just has it out for me, purely trying to cause trouble.”

“So that’s it,” Mr. Miller said, understanding dawning on him. “No wonder she asked for you by name. She was just trying to stir up trouble.”

“Yeah,” Aubrey murmured, rubbing her eyes. “It’s fine, then. The hurricane just passed, so stay safe out there.”

“Alright, you too,” she replied.

Aubrey hung up the phone, got out of bed, and pulled open the curtains, her gaze falling out the window through the glass.

One look, and her heart plummeted.

The wind had died down, but the neighborhood streets were flooded. It didn’t look too deep, and below, maintenance workers in raincoata were dearing debris from dogged storm drains.

After Aubrey had showered and gotten ready, she changed into her own clothes, then hand washed her nightgown and Damon’s shirs Carrying the wet clothes, she went out to hang them to dry, just as Damon emerged from the kitchen, balancing breakfast in his hamste

Their eyes met, and the atmosphere instantly bristled with awkwardness.

“Morning” Aubrey greeted him, her voice tight. Without waiting for a reply, she headed straight for the bakony

After hanging both garments, Aubrey turned and went back inside

Damon was already seated at the dining table, two bowls of noodles sitting between them

Their gazes lacked again he stood stiffly in the living room, while he remained silently seated in the dining area. The air itself seemed to press down on them, heavy and lifeless

Damon was the one to break the heavy silence Come down

Aubrey walked slowly towards the table.

She pulled out a chair and sat opposite Damon, her gase dropping to the large bowl of noodles in front of her

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Two sunny–side–up eggs, cooked to a perfect medium–soft, topped the noodles, along with a few tender bok choy greens. It looked incredibly appetizing.

Aubrey looked up at him.

Damon picked up his fork and began eating his noodles in silence.

His bowl seemed to have only one egg, and it was fully cooked.

Five

years.

Did he still remember she liked runny yolks?

“Thank you,” Aubrey murmured softly.

Damon didn’t react, continuing to eat his breakfast as if nothing had happened.

Aubrey picked up some noodles with her fork and brought them to her mouth. It was an unforgettable taste from her memory, Damon’s delicious cooking. So good, so deeply missed.

Her eyes welled up. As she ate, she subtly raised her gaze to steal a glance at Damon.

He ate with the same effortless grace as always. Even while eating noodles, he made no sound, never gobbling his food.

They just sat there eating breakfast in silence.

It was like they were transported back five years, to the days when they shared a home.

Damon had handled all the cooking and dishwashing, the sweeping and mopping–any chore that was strenuous or rough on the hands, he took care of

1. it.

She’d been in charge of the lighter chores: tossing dirty clothes into the washing machine, hanging them to dry, folding them, and taking out the trash.

And if she’d ever been too lazy to move, a little pout from her, and Damon would do everything.

Now, things were irrevocably changed. People had changed, and even though they could still sit together for breakfast, their hearts and their relationship were irrevocably altered.

Damon finished first. He wiped his mouth, set down his fork, and waited for her in silence, his unreadable gaze fixed on her.

Aubrey felt his gaze, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. She quickly finished her meal, preparing to clear the dishes.

“Leave them.” Damon said, his voice flat.

Aubrey put the dishes down. “Thank you for letting me stay last night. The hurricane has passed, so I should head back now.”

The roads are flooded.”

“It’s not too deep. We can walk,” Damon’s voice cut through the silence.

“Walk back?” she echoed, disbelief coloring her tone.

“I checked,” he said. “The subway’s already back up and running.”

Damon scoffed, turning his head to stare out the window. He exhaled heavily, as if something was lodged in his throat.

Aubrey stood up, pushed her chair in, and went back to her room. She made the bed, then emerged with her briefcase and phone.

Damon was still seated at the dining table in the same position, his head turned, gazing out the window. An indescribable desolation clung to him.

A heavy pall seemed to hang over him.

Passing through the living room, Aubrey couldn’t help but pause, her gaze drawn to him.

A pang of bitterness twisted in her chest, a deep reluctance to leave, yet she still wished they’d never meet again,

Each encounter was a fresh cut, and it would never lead to anything.

“Can I borrow your umbrella?” Aubrey asked.

Damon didn’t look at her, his voice heavy as he replied, “By the shoe rack.”

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