Do You Still Love Me When We Meet Again? (Aubrey and Damon) novel Chapter 8

They rode up, arriving at the door.

Aubrey froze.

At that moment, Damon was pressing his thumb to the fingerprint scanner on the door opposite Skylar’s apartment.

So, they weren’t living together after all.

A soft beep, and the lock disengaged.

From Skylar’s apartment, there was a flurry of hurried footsteps, and then her door was yanked open.

“Damon, you…” Skylar practically skipped out, her words dying on her lips as her eyes landed on Aubrey. Her cheerful expression instantly soured.

She saw them, both drenched to the bone.

A flicker of realization crossed Skylar’s face, and she managed a tight, awkward smile.“Aubrey, you’re still here?”

“There’s a hurricane raging outside, heavy rain,” Aubrey replied, her tone deliberately casual.

Inside Skylar’s apartment, with the windows sealed shut and the curtains drawn, Aubrey hadn’t paid any attention to the weather outside.

Damon ignored Skylar, pulling his door open.

Skylar, frantic, quickly spoke up.“Damon, Aubrey should stay with me. I’m a girl, and I have clothes that would fit her. It’s more appropriate.”

Aubrey thought Skylar had a point.

“Thank you,” Aubrey said, her tone polite, and turned to take a step towards Skylar’s apartment.

She’d barely moved when Damon’s hand clamped around her arm.

“No need,” Damon said, his voice flat with refusal.

He yanked her inside, slamming the door shut behind them.

Caught off guard, Aubrey stumbled inside as the lights flickered on, instantly followed by Skylar’s furious pounding on the door from the hallway.

“Damon, what are you doing? Open this door! It’s Aubrey! Have you forgotten how she treated you? Why are you letting her into your apartment?”

“Damon, you said you wouldn’t stoop so low. Send Aubrey over to my place.”

“Open the door…”

Skylar’s words plunged into Aubrey’s heart like daggers, leaving a throbbing ache.

She stood motionless by the door, watching Damon stride into the living room.

If these words caused her such agony, would Damon still feel the pain?

But seeing his face, calm as still water, the pain must have faded for him.

After all, Damon loathed her to his very core.

Damon, sensing no movement behind him, turned. He frowned, looking at her.“What are you just standing there for?”

A heavy feeling settled in Aubrey’s chest, making it hard to breathe. She spoke softly, “I think Skylar is right. It would be more appropriate for me to stay at her place.”

Damon scoffed.“You’re that eager to be bullied by her?”

“When it comes to being bullied, she’d just play petty games, maybe run her mouth. You’re different. You…” Aubrey trailed off, the realization of her mistake hitting her the moment the words left her lips.

Damon’s face was exceptionally grim at that moment. His eyes were dark and unreadable as he met her gaze, seemingly calm, but beneath the surface, an unyielding hatred seethed.

She’d hurt him so badly back then. And now she couldn’t even handle a little bullying?

“I’m sorry,” Aubrey mumbled, lowering her gaze, and slowly walked inside.

The knocking and shouting from outside gradually faded into silence,

11:38

< Chapter 8

Claim 15 Coins By Check in

Menu

Inside, an oppressive silence fell, broken only by the heavy rhythm of their breaths. An invisible tension slowly began to spread.

His house was massive. The living room, incredibly spacious.

Modern, minimalist, and grand.

Damon watched her enter, then pointed to a room. “You’ll stay in Tracy’s room. Her clothes should still be in the closet.”

Tracy was his sister.

Is Tracy in Crestview City too?” Aubrey asked, a flicker of curiosity in her voice.

“No, she’s not here. She stayed over for a few days last time she was in town on business.”

“Oh.”

Aubrey acknowledged with a soft “oh,” then, hugging her briefcase, she slipped into the room and closed the door behind her.

She flicked on the light.

It was a standard guest room, decorated with simple, elegant taste. The large bed was neatly made with fresh linens, and the dresser top was completely

bare.

She set down her briefcase and pulled out her laptop and phone. Thanks to their waterproof design, the contents were perfectly dry.

Outside the window, darkness pressed in, and the wind howled furiously.

Aubrey walked over and drew the curtains shut.

She returned to the wardrobe, pulling open its doors to peer inside.

Indeed, there were clothes inside, but barely any–just two expensive formal dresses and a creamy white slip nightgown.

There were no other garments, certainly no fresh underwear.

She took down the nightgown and went into the bathroom.

The bathroom vanity cabinet held guest toiletries and bath towels.

Once she’d showered and blow–dried her hair, she stepped out of the room. It was already eight–thirty.

Her irregular eating habits had led to chronic stomach issues; her stomach would ache whenever she let herself get too hungry.

Tonight, she’d skipped dinner entirely, and now her stomach acid was beginning to burn, a faint, insistent ache starting deep within.

Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door.

Aubrey’s heart seized. She wasn’t wearing any underwear, dressed only in a thin, sensual slip.

“Is something wrong?” she called out, not daring to open the door, standing just inches from it.

I made too much dinner. I can’t finish it all. Would you like some?”

Damon’s voice was devoid of warmth, chilling and detached.

Aubrey was stunned.

But she’d distinctly heard him tell Skylar that he’d already eaten, even turning down Skylar’s Premium Gourmet Steak

Had ‘having eaten dinner‘ just been an excuse to politely refuse Skylar?

“Could you.. could you hand me one of your jackets, or a shirt?”

Silence stretched for several seconds from the other side of the door, then a low, almost imperceptible, “Hmm,” reached her

A few moments later, a knock echoed through the room again

Aubrey pulled open the door a crack, and Damon’s hand reached in, holding a white long sleeved shirt,

“Thank you,” Aubrey murmured, taking the shirt and closing the door.

Holding Damon’s shirt, her fingertips trembled as she compulsively lowered her head, pressing the fabric to her nose and inhaling softly.

It was Damon’s distinctive scent, a clean blend of him and laundry detergent.

A sharp ache bloomed in her nose, and her eyes burned, blurring with unshed tears.

511:28

< Chapter 8

Claim 15 Coins By Check in

Mersi

A dull, tearing ache blossomed deep in her chest.

Over the years, she hadn’t been able to recall his scent even in her dreams, and his image had grown blurrier with each passing day.

She desperately wanted to completely forget Damon, yet she was terrified of forgetting his face, and even more, she couldn’t bear to forget the smallest details of their time together.

Five years had passed like this–a blur of confusion, a repetitive cycle of agonizing contradiction.

And now, here he was, right in front of her.

Yet she couldn’t be near him.

Aubrey slipped on his loose, long–sleeved shirt, gently rolling the cuffs up twice before buttoning them. She wiped away the fresh tears beneath her eyes, then opened the door and stepped out.

Damon had already freshened up, changed into comfortable loungewear, and was lounging on the living room sofa, engrossed in his phone.

He didn’t even glance up when he heard the door open.

“Mind if I use your washer and dryer?” Aubrey asked.

Damon gave a curt nod.“Yeah.”

Aubrey went back into the room, retrieved her dirty clothes, and tossed them into the washer.

Once she was done, she headed toward the dining table.

Passing through the living room, she asked,“Are you finished eating?”

“Yeah, there’s some left,” he said, his voice laced with a cool, almost dismissive generosity, an indifferent nonchalance. His eyes never left his phone.

Aubrey walked into the dining room. A bowl of white rice, two dishes, and a soup were laid out on the table.

Steamed pork ribs, blanched greens, and tomato–egg soup.

The portions were indeed small, just enough for one.

But the dishes, the meat–they showed no signs of being touched. Were they truly his leftovers?

Aubrey sat down, picked up her fork, and glanced back at Damon, who was still on the sofa.

Given his cooking skills, three dishes in an hour would have been easy.

Had he genuinely cooked too much and simply couldn’t finish it, or had he specifically made dinner for her?

Either way, being able to eat his cooking again now sent a warmth blooming in her chest.

< Chapter 9

Claim 15 Coins By Check in