The Ashes of Vows (Elara and Damon) novel Chapter 11

11

Marij

His barely hidden disgust made Sloane totally lose it.

“Why would you even say that?

Damon, you know I love you.”

She burst into tears.

“Your name is still tattooed right over my heart. I’ve confessed my love to you a million times. I jumped off a building for you, attempted suicide. I even let rebar pierce my heart just to protect you in that car crash!

Look at this scar, it’s so ugly. But I never regretted it…”

She got off the bed and wrapped her arms around Damon’s waist from behind.“Last night was my first,” she choked out.“I gave it to you. So don’t do this to me, I can’t take it. I’d rather have died saving you in that car crash!”

Her tears soaked Damon’s back.

But it shattered his agonizing resolve. He caved again. His Adam’s apple bobbed, but he couldn’t actually walk away.“…

Don’t ever do that again! This is my absolute limit!”

“Go on, get some more sleep. I’ll with

stay

for you

a

few more days.”

Eventually, he carried her back to bed.

Once Sloane was finally lulled to sleep, Damon went to the balcony and lit a cigarette.

Through the rising smoke, my tearful eyes kept flashing in his mind.

He dialed that number again. It went straight to voicemail. All the guilt that had been piling up lately suddenly slammed into him.

He seemed to finally make up his mind. He opened his messaging app and started typing:“Elle, I’m sorry.

Once you’ve cooled off and your phone’s back on, call me back.

I know I’ve screwed up big time lately, but I’ve only ever loved you.

Three days from now, we’ll go to Finland to see the Northern Lights. You’ve always wanted to go.

“By then, I’ll have all this mess sorted out. We’ll get our old life back, just us again.”

Right after hitting send, he hit up his personal assistant. Flights to Finland. Booked.

“Oh, and there’s an auction in Port City in a couple of days. I need you to bring back that ruby necklace for me. No matter what.”

He stressed to his assistant that rubies were her absolute favorite. No matter what, he’d make it up to her. He’d spend every moment making amends.

But over the next three days, she never called him back.

Damon’s anxiety swelled with each passing hour. He spent those last three days with Sloane, but his mind was miles away. He took her on lavish shopping sprees, swiping his card without a thought. He even booked out an entire amusement park for her to snap a bunch

of Polaroids.

Three days later, they were finishing up dinner at a fancy revolving restaurant when Damon suddenly pulled out a test report.

“Sloane, three days ago, I got a doctor to check out your condition. Your full physical results are in, too. Good news: you’re totally fine now, completely recovered.”

He paused, picking his words. “Look, I’m married, you know? I’ve got a wife, a family. I can’t just keep doing this with you forever. You’ll definitely find someone who really loves you, for real, someday.”

He tried to sugarcoat it, but the message was loud and clear.

Sloane was completely floored. Before she could even make a move, Damon had already shot up and practically sprinted out of the

restaurant.

He drove like a bat out of hell, his car practically flying and definitely flirting with a serious speeding ticket.

On the passenger seat lay a ruby gift box and two tickets to Finland.

Damon felt a knot in his stomach. The whole Sloane situation? Done. Over. He was already picturing how he’d apologize to her, knowing he’d do anything. He’d even drop to his knees if that’s what she wanted.

Soon, the car pulled into the mansion’s driveway. He grabbed the gift and practically sprinted out.

The downstairs villa was lit up. I was nowhere in sight. Just two maids were tidying up the kitchen.

“Where’s the missus?”

He snapped.

He didn’t wait for an answer, striding up the stairs two at a time. He totally missed the housekeeper’s reply.

“Mrs. Blackwood, she left that day and never came back…”

The second floor was dark. Damon checked the guest room first, but she wasn’t there. Then he rushed to the master bedroom.

“Elle, I…”

As the door burst open, the master bedroom was exactly as he’d left it days ago.

The air was thick with an overly sweet scent, Sloane’s favorite essential oil, completely overpowering the fresh lime scent I loved.

He froze for a second, then flicked on the light. He was about to turn and search elsewhere, but his gaze snagged on a splash of red by

the bedside table.

In that instant, a suffocating feeling gripped his chest.

He rushed over, and the gift box in his hand clattered straight to the floor.

It was the divorce papers.

Damon’s and my divorce papers…