Do You Still Love Me When We Meet Again? (Aubrey and Damon) novel Chapter 43

Chapter 43

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Damon entered his room, opened the closet door, and took out a change of clothes.

Aubrey followed him in, walking to his side. Her unsettled fingers picked at the edge of his shirt as she looked up at his somber expression, her voice soft. “Sierra, Ethan, and 1… we’re childhood friends. Our parents are all from the same town, and they’ve known each other for decades.”

Damon closed the closet door.“You don’t need to explain anything to me.”

“If I brought you, my relatives would definitely misunderstand our relationship.”

Damon turned, a resigned sigh escaping him. “Fine, I won’t go. Let’s just go eat breakfast.”

Aubrey blinked, pleading softly, “Then… you won’t be mad, right?”

Damon’s smile was a bitter twist.“Aubrey, does it even matter to you if I’m mad?”

Aubrey nodded.

Damon froze, his dark eyes deepening, a flicker of confusion in their depths.“Why?”

“I don’t want to lose you-” Her voice trailed off for a few seconds, her cheeks flushing. She quickly tacked on,“–as a friend.”

An almost imperceptible shadow of disappointment flickered in Damon’s eyes. He tossed the clothes onto the bed.“I’m not mad. Can you go eat breakfast now?”

“You haven’t finished yours either. Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I’ll eat after I change. And I’ll drive you to work after.”

“Okay.” Aubrey smiled, remaining rooted to the spot.“I’ll wait for you, and we can go out together.”

Damon’s brow furrowed slightly.“You planning on watching me change?”

Aubrey only then realized he was wearing pajamas; he’d have to change completely, not just throw on a jacket.

Aubrey’s heart quickened. Despite the shyness and reserve she felt, she couldn’t resist a playful tease aimed at Damon.“Just a peek at the muscles, is that so bad?”

Damon hadn’t expected such a thought from her. A faint, controlled smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Fine.”

His deep, heated gaze locked onto her bright eyes as his long, attractive fingers slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

Button by button, his shirt came undone, revealing glimpses of his solid chest muscles, about to be fully exposed.

Heat rushed from Aubrey’s cheeks to her earlobes, her breathing hitched. Ultimately, her shyness won out. She whirled around and headed for the door, tossing over her shoulder, “I–I’ll just wait for you outside.”

“Not going to watch?” Damon called after her.

“I’m hungry, I need breakfast,” she called back.“Another time, maybe.”

“When’s another time?”

“We’ll see about that.”

Damon watched her flustered back, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

After breakfast, Damon applied her medicine, then drove her back to the office.

Thanksgiving Break was a flurry of activity.

The wedding was quite traditional, and as the eldest daughter of the Hayes family, Aubrey was expected to lend her mother a hand, bustling around with countless tasks.

Before the reception, many relatives and friends took photos with the bride and groom.

Ethan took Aubrey’s hand and led her over to the newlyweds.“Let’s get a picture together.”

Brendan interjected, clearly displeased,“Ethan, just the two of us for a picture is fine. Why did you drag her over?”

Ethan looked confused. “She’s your sister. Is that any way to talk about her?”

23:42

< Chapter 43

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Brendan scoffed under his breath. She doesn’t even treat me like a brother.”

Aubrey’s face fell, and she was about to turn and walk away.

Ethan quickly grabbed her arm.

Chloe tugged at Brendan’s arm, whispering reproachfully, “It’s our wedding day. Don’t cause a scene.”

“Fine,” Brendan finally conceded, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding

Aubrey’s stomach churned. She didn’t want to take the picture anyway, and with a cold expression, she was about to walk away when Ethan wrapped an arm around her shoulders, hauling her to stand beside the newlyweds.

The photographer immediately snapped the picture.

Frustrated, Aubrey shoved Ethan’s hand away.“What are you doing? I’m not taking it.”

“I grew up with you and your brother,” Ethan said. “Now that Brendan’s married, I want something to remember it by,”

Aubrey shoved his hand away again. “What’s there to remember?”

Suddenly, Ethan cupped her face, pulling her forcefully in front of him. Lowering his head, he spoke with intense earnestness, “Bree, I need this picture for posterity. And we’re getting Sierra in on it too.”

Aubrey pushed his hands away again, impatiently.“I said I don’t want to.”

Ethan hadn’t let her leave, instead calling Sierra over.

The three of them stood beside the newlyweds, snapping several photos.

As the photos were being taken, Aubrey’s mind seethed with annoyance, yet she completely missed the subtle moves Ethan was making on her.

Like when he hooked his arm around her shoulders, or leaned down, using the back of his head to block the lens, staring closely at her face as he murmured, “Your makeup is caked.”

Once the photos were done.

Ethan immediately snatched the camera from the photographer, pleased with the dozens of candid shots he saw. He pressed a generous tip into the photographer’s hand.

Aubrey was enjoying the banquet, while Ethan Sterling next to her was choosing photos to post on social media. He raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips, glancing at Aubrey. Suddenly, he picked up his phone again and leaned closer. The moment Aubrey turned her head to look at him, he immediately snapped a selfie of the two of them.

He secretly uploaded a nine–photo grid to his social media, configuring the privacy settings so it would be visible only to Damon.

In the dead of night, Cloudbreak Heights was exceptionally quiet.

The Thanksgiving Break special played on the TV.

Damon sat on the sofa, his gaze glacial, phone in hand, staring at Ethan Sterling’s feed.

A nine–photo grid. No caption.

Nine photos in total, and five of them were intimate shots of Ethan Sterling and Aubrey.

There was a photo of him cupping her face, another with his arm around her shoulder, a shot that looked like a kiss, a selfie of them eating together, and

a group photo of the four of them–Aubrey and Ethan, the bride and groom–all paired up.

He lowered his phone. His shoulders sagged, as if crushed by a mountain. He leaned back weakly, his head resting against the back of the sofa, and closed his eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

His chest heaved violently. A wave of dull pain washed over him, tearing his heart to shreds, leaving his very soul bleeding.

The hatred he had painstakingly tried to let go of over these past weeks–it all came rushing back, every last drop.

He was such a fool, utterly captivated by Aubrey’s innocent, clear eyes. As nothing more than a friend, she had him completely wrapped around her finger.

A single unthinking word, a casual glance–they had ignited a spark of hope within him. But it was all just a cruel joke.

02342

< Chapter 43

Four years with an ex was ultimately no match for two decades of shared history with a childhood sweetheart.

What the hell was he hoping for?

What was there left to hope for from a woman who had already betrayed him?

And still deluding himself she’d have a change of heart, be loyal and true?

Ridiculous!

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He let out a long, shaky breath. When he opened his eyes again, they were rimmed with red. He picked up the remote, turned off the TV, then switched off the living room lights, and rose to retreat to his room.

The quiet living room plunged into a deathly silence, as if every last ember of warmth had died out.

Aubrey didn’t get home until eleven–thirty at night.

Unlike usual, the house was dark.

Since she’d moved in with Damon, he always left a light on when she came home late, often scrolling on his phone or watching a game in the living

room.

He wasn’t home tonight?

A knot of confusion tightened in Aubrey’s stomach. She flicked on the lights, and as she changed into her slippers, she noticed all of Damon’s outdoor shoes were neatly in the rack–but his house slippers were gone.

Aubrey locked the front door behind her, padding further into the silent apartment in her slippers.

Even though Damon had insisted he wasn’t angry, a whisper of worry still lingered.

She walked to the sofa and sank down, pulling out her phone to send him a message on her Whatsapp.

“Damon, are you asleep?”

After hitting send, she turned, her gaze fixed on Damon’s bedroom door.

No reply came on her Whatsapp.

No sound, no movement, emerged from Damon’s room either.

He was really asleep?

A knot of anxiety twisted in Aubrey’s gut. She turned off the lights and retreated to her own room to get ready for bed.

By the time she’d showered and dried her hair, it was already past midnight.

She picked up her phone, a quick glance at her Whatsapp confirming Damon still hadn’t replied, nor had he come to her room.

The fragile hope she hadn’t realized she was holding shattered.

That night, she fumbled for the wound, dabbed on some medicine without much thought, and climbed into bed.

The next morning.

The sky was a heavy, oppressive gray, completely devoid of any sunlight. A fierce northern wind howled, sweeping through with a biting chill.

Aubrey got up and got ready, then emerged from her room and raced into the kitchen, a joyful “Good morning…” already on her lips.

The words were barely out of her mouth when the sight of the figure stopped her cold.

It was a woman’s back.

The middle–aged woman turned at the sound, nodding politely.“Good morning, Miss Hayes,” she said. “My name is Brenda Lewis, but please, call me Brenda.”

Aubrey, her nerves immediately on edge, scanned the living room before her gaze darted back to Brenda.“Hello,” she managed, her voice tight. “Who… who are you?”

“I was hired by Mr. Blackwood to look after you.”

Panic flared in Aubrey. “I don’t need anyone to look after me,” she blurted out, her voice rising. “There must be some mistake.”

Brenda:“No mistake. I’ll be in charge of your three meals a day, applying your medication three times a day–morning, noon, and night–and driving you

< Chapter 43

to and from work. For anything else, just let me know.”

Aubrey had never felt so rattled. She turned and walked toward Damon’s room, knocking on the door.

Brenda turned off the stove in the kitchen, walked out, and said politely, “Mr. Blackwood has already left.”

Aubrey took a deep breath and looked back at Brenda.

Around forty years old, she looked gentle and capable.

“Is he away on a business trip?”

“I don’t think so. He only took his car keys and phone when he left.”

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A bad feeling settled in Aubrey’s stomach. She apologized repeatedly. “I’m so sorry, Brenda, but I really don’t need anyone to look after me. You don’t need to come to work anymore. I’ll pay you for a week’s worth of wages. I really feel awful about this.”

Brenda looked a little hesitant.“But Mr. Blackwood has already paid me for the entire month. If you don’t let me come to work, I won’t be able to refund the money.”

Aubrey was stunned.

What was going on?

She woke up feeling like her life had completely veered off course.

The unsettling feeling of being out of control left her utterly bewildered.

Not wanting Damon’s money to be wasted, she told Brenda, “You can go ahead and make breakfast then.”

Brenda beamed.“Okay, Miss Hayes, just a moment. Breakfast will be ready in no time.”

With that, Brenda went into the kitchen.

Aubrey pulled out her phone and dialed Damon’s number.

It rang for a long time before he finally picked up.

From the other end of the line, Damon’s voice was faint, tinged with a weariness that made her heart clench.“What is it?”

Just from those two words, she could tell his spirits were incredibly low.

A pang of worry shot through her.“Damon, did you go to work?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t need anyone to look after me. If you’re too busy, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“When your injuries heal, if you want to let her go, that’s up to you.”

Aubrey gripped her phone tightly, feeling that even through the phone, his voice sounded completely wrong.

A heavy tightness settled in her chest, an ache she couldn’t quite pinpoint. Unsure what she had done to upset him, she murmured, “Have you been very busy lately?”

Damon didn’t answer. Instead, he shot back, “Is there anything else?”

Aubrey knew that was his cue to hang up.“No,” she murmured, defeat already settling in.

“Then I’m hanging up.” He didn’t wait for a response, cutting the call immediately.

Aubrey stared dejectedly at her phone, her Whatsapp icon glowing accusingly.

Damon’s chat thread still showed her message from last night, untouched, unread.

Even if he’d seen it this morning, he still hadn’t bothered to reply.

“Miss Hayes, breakfast is ready.” Brenda’s polite voice broke the silence.

Aubrey carried her phone with her to the table.

The breakfast tasted like ash in her mouth, every bite heavy with unspoken questions.

Brenda applied the ointment to Aubrey’s scrapes and then drove her to work.

* Chapter 43

Tll bring you hunch at noon and apply the ointment again,” Brenda added.

This lavish, paid for care, meant to be comforting, only made her feel more unsettled.

“How much does Mr. Blackwood pay you?” she asked Brenda.

“Twenty–five thousand.”

The amount, staggering to her, left her speechless.

She wanted to pay Damon back, but the sheer sum of it felt like a stab to her gut.

Later that afternoon.

Vincent Hall, the lawyer Damon had recommended, reached out to her.

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He arranged a private meeting to discuss her case against Caleb. They covered the charges; attempted rape, unlawful imprisonment, assault, and forced marriage.

Aubrey had expected Damon to be there, but he never showed.

Vincent Hall was professional, sharp, and undeniably formidable. After their meeting, Aubrey felt she’d learned a great deal from him.

In the evening, Brenda picked her up from work.

Damon wasn’t home.

Brenda made her dinner and applied her medication. Since she didn’t stay overnight, she left as soon as she was done with her duties.

After her shower, Aubrey applied her own medication and settled onto the living room sofa to wait for Damon.

Time crawled, and eventually, she drifted off to sleep right there on the sofa.

At one in the morning, Aubrey was startled awake by the soft click of the fingerprint lock, shooting up from the couch.

Ryan was half–carrying a dead–drunk Damon through the door.

Aubrey didn’t even have time to slip on her shoes before she rushed over, taking Damon’s other arm. “Why did he drink so much?” she asked, her voice ight with alarm.

Ryan, still bracing Damon’s dead weight, grunted out, “I have no idea what possessed him. He called me out for drinks, then proceeded to drink himself nto a stupor. He knows he can’t hold his liquor, but he just wouldn’t stop.”

Once they were in the bedroom, Aubrey quickly pulled back the duvet.

Ryan eased Damon onto the bed, then let out a long breath, shaking out his arms and back.“Could you take care of him? I’ve been drinking too, and my head’s spinning. My designated driver is still waiting downstairs.”

Okay. Thanks for everything, Ryan,” Aubrey said, walking him to the door. Just as he was about to step out, she couldn’t help but call out, “Ryan…”

Ryan stopped short, turning back to look at her.

Aubrey hesitated, chewing on her lip for a few seconds before she finally asked, her voice tight with nerves, “Do you know why Damon drank so much ast night?”

yan pondered for a few seconds, shaking his head. “I don’t know. He didn’t say.”

ust as Aubrey was about to close the door, Ryan suddenly remembered.“Oh, right! When he was drunk, he kept muttering one phrase.”

What did he say?”

“She’s not worth it.‘ He just kept repeating, ‘She’s not worth it.”

Aubrey understood.“Okay, take care on your way home.”

After saying goodbye to Ryan, she closed and locked the door.

Ryan hadn’t understood the phrase.

But she did.

It was Damon who felt that she, Aubrey, wasn’t worth it anymore.

Not worth his kindness; his efforts; his thoughtful care; his meticulous attention.

Chapter 43

Not even worth him having expectations for her.

Yet, their relationship had finally eased, and they’d been getting along so well lately.

She must have done something wrong to disappoint Damon so deeply.

A bitter ache twisted in her heart, her chest felt clogged with wet cotton, making it hard to breathe.

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She went into Damon’s room, took off his shoes and socks, and it took all her strength to roll him over and peel off his jacket.

She went into the bathroom, grabbed a warm, damp washcloth, and sat on the edge of the bed to wipe his face and neck.

The warm lamplight cast a glow on his chiseled, handsome face. His brows were deeply furrowed, as if even in his drunken sleep, he couldn’t escape the sorrow that clung to him.

Aubrey then wiped his hands clean, placed the washcloth on the nightstand, and pulled the blanket over him.

Damon was in a deep, drunken stupor.

Through the blanket, Aubrey leaned her head on his chest, a sense of loss heavy in her heart. She wrapped her arms around him, closing her eyes to feel his breath, his warmth, his embrace.

A sharp thorn seemed to pierce her heart, leaving a dull, throbbing ache. Tears welled uncontrollably, spilling from her eyes and tracing paths down her cheeks onto the duvet.

Her voice hitched, catching in her throat.“Damon,” she whispered, her words barely audible,“you’re not angry because I… I didn’t take you to my brother’s wedding, are you?”

“What is it, then? What’s the real reason?”

“We’d been together for four years. I know your temper, I know your personality.”

“You asked Brenda to take care of me. The truth is, you don’t want to deal with me anymore. You don’t even want to see me, do you?” Her tears came unbidden, flowing uncontrollably. Her heart ached, so frantic, she couldn’t help but cling to him and cry.

She had already lost him as her boyfriend.

She couldn’t bear to lose him as her roommate and friend too.

She treasured every single moment they spent together.

She’d known it from the moment she’d moved in with him: this was a mistake. A terrible, wrong beginning.

But now, she was too deeply entangled, unable to pull herself out. It was already too late to even think about getting away.

Aubrey lay on him, sobbing softly until she cried herself to sleep.

She woke up, vaguely aware of the cold, shivering, still half–asleep. Too groggy to discern whose room she was in, she instinctively climbed into bed, burrowing deep into the warm covers to fall back asleep.

< Chapter 44