Chapter 58 – Damon's POV
"The Man Behind the Mask"
The scent of garlic and roasted vegetables filled the kitchen as I leaned over the counter, checking the sauce Arya had been stirring for the past hour. She moved around the space like she belonged there — like this wasn't just a kitchen but a part of her canvas.
"You're fussing," she said gently, without even looking up.
I smirked. "Not fussing. Just making sure you're not burning your masterpiece."
She gave me a sideways glance. "You've been hovering since I told you Ethan was coming."
I shrugged, playing it cool, but she wasn't wrong. "I didn't know you and Ethan got that close in Westbrook."
"We did," she said simply. "He was there for me when I needed someone. No questions, no judgment."
That part made me pause. I wasn't used to hearing about other men being Arya's emotional support. I knew Ethan was her friend — and sure, he helped her with the gallery and other things last year — but I hadn't thought too deeply about it. Maybe I should have.
I turned as the doorbell rang, and Arya wiped her hands before heading over.
When Ethan walked in, I noticed it immediately — the tension in his shoulders, the tired look in his eyes, and the way his smile didn't quite reach.
"Hey, man," I said, giving him a firm handshake. "Good to see you."
"You too," he replied, polite but distant.
Arya ushered us into the dining area while she set the food. The whole vibe felt strange. Ethan was trying — he asked about work, cracked a few jokes — but I could tell something was eating at him.
The moment Arya stepped away to grab the wine glasses, I leaned back in my chair and looked at him.
"You alright?"
He blinked. "What?"
"You've been quiet," I said. "You're here but… not really here. What's going on?"
Ethan exhaled heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's nothing."
I raised a brow. "Come on. I know that look. I've worn that look."
He chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah, I'm sure you have."
There was a pause.
"I did something," he said finally. "Something I'm not proud of."
I leaned in slightly, dropping my voice. "You hurt someone?"
He didn't answer at first. He just stared into his untouched glass of water, jaw clenched.
"I didn't mean to," he said. "But yeah. I hurt her. And the worst part? I realized I did exactly what I've spent years hating in other men."
There was weight in that statement — a heaviness I couldn't ignore.
"Who is she?" I asked softly.
He shook his head. "That part… I can't tell you."
I narrowed my eyes slightly, caught off guard by the deflection. "You know I'm not the judgmental type. I just want to help."
"I know," he said quickly. "But if I say her name, it'll make everything worse."
I leaned back, watching him carefully. Something about the way he said that triggered something in my gut. Ethan was many things, but evasive wasn't usually one of them.
He didn't want to name her. That meant it was someone close.
Someone connected.
"Is she married?" I asked, testing a theory.
He shook his head.
"Engaged?"
"No."
"Then what's the big deal?"
He looked up, meeting my eyes finally. "It's complicated. I didn't know how much she mattered to me until I pushed her away. And when I did… I saw her look at me the same way Arya once looked at you."
That stopped me cold.
For a second, I couldn't speak.
He continued quietly. "She looked hurt. Betrayed. Like I'd just proven every fear she ever had about men was true. And the worst part? I realized I was no better than the man Arya told me about — the one who shut her down, made decisions for her, and called it love."
I swallowed hard. Hearing my past laid out like that — especially from Ethan — wasn't easy.
"I hated that version of you," Ethan admitted. "The Damon from four years ago. The one Arya cried over. I promised myself I'd never become him. But last night, I did."
I looked away, jaw tight.
It hurt. But it was the truth. And maybe… he needed to say it out loud just as much as I needed to hear it.
"I don't know how to fix it," he said. "She's probably done with me."
I met his eyes again, and for once, I wasn't the man being judged. I was the man who had already walked through the fire and come out the other side.
"You can't erase what happened," I said. "But you can choose not to be that man again. Arya gave me a second chance because I worked for it. Not because I asked, but because I showed her I changed."
Ethan nodded slowly. "I'm just afraid I ruined it completely."
"If she mattered that much," I said, "you won't stop at fear."
We sat in silence for a moment. Two men who had both failed women they cared about.
Maybe in different ways, maybe in different times — but the regret felt the same.
Arya walked back in, smiling as if she hadn't just missed one of the most honest conversations between two men trying not to repeat their worst mistakes.
Dinner went on.
But the air was heavier.
And the girl Ethan couldn't name?
I had a strange feeling she was closer than I realized.