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Chapter 61 – Damon's POV
"The Night I Promised Everything"
The room was quiet — the kind of quiet that only comes in the hours between midnight and dawn.
Arya lay beside me, fast asleep, her hair fanned out across my bare chest, her breath warm against my skin. I didn't move. I didn't want to. I just stared up at the ceiling, one arm wrapped gently around her waist, the other under my head as a makeshift pillow.
Another night.
Another moment I never thought I'd get again.
She was here.
In my arms.
In my bed.
In my life.
And still, I felt the ache of fear in my chest. A fear I tried to bury but couldn't.
Because the last time she gave herself to me like this, I broke her. I shattered the trust she once had in me, like it was nothing.
But it was everything.
And now, I couldn't stop thinking about the day she walked away.
That day still lived in my mind like a scar. She didn't yell. She didn't scream. She just looked at me like I was a stranger — and walked out the door, taking every ounce of warmth with her.
I didn't chase her.
Not because I didn't want to — but because I didn't think I deserved to.
I let her down.
Over and over.
But somehow, life gave me another chance. She gave me another chance.
And tonight… she chose me again.
We hadn't meant to end up like this. It wasn't some grand plan. We'd stayed up late talking in the living room, wrapped in a blanket, sharing things we'd once been too scared to say. She smiled more tonight. Laughed at something stupid I said. And then, her hand brushed mine, and everything changed.
The kiss had been slow. Careful.
The way her lips moved against mine told me she still felt something. And when I whispered "stay", she didn't hesitate.
Now here we were.
Together.
Again.
But I didn't feel triumphant. I felt... terrified.
Because I knew how easily things could break. How easily I could break things.
I looked down at her, watching her chest rise and fall softly. She looked peaceful — like the storm inside her had finally calmed.
And maybe it had.
Maybe tonight wasn't about forgetting the past.
Maybe it was about forgiving it.
But I'd never forget. Not what I did. Not how I made her question herself. Not how I treated her like she wasn't enough — when she was everything.
I lifted a hand and gently moved a strand of hair away from her face. She stirred a little but didn't wake. Her skin was so soft, her features relaxed in a way I hadn't seen in years.
God, I missed her.
Not just her body — but her presence. Her laughter. Her temper. Her quiet strength.
I missed the way she saw the world, the way she saw me, even when I didn't deserve to be seen.
I never told her just how much it killed me to watch her grow distant. To feel her slipping away. And when she finally left… I didn't sleep for days.
I still remember waking up to cold sheets. A silent apartment. The echo of her name on my lips.
And now she was here again.
By some miracle, she trusted me with her body… maybe even a piece of her heart.
I couldn't screw this up again.
I wouldn't.
I leaned down and kissed the top of her head gently. She shifted, letting out a soft sigh, but didn't stir.
"I won't mess this up again," I whispered into the dark.
It wasn't just a promise. It was a vow.
No more lies. No more pride. No more pushing her away when things got hard. I'd spent so long trying to control everything — and in doing that, I lost the only thing that ever really mattered.
Her.
But now I saw it clearly.
Trust wasn't something you earned once and kept forever. It was something you rebuilt every day — with actions, not words.
And from this moment on, I'd prove to her that I'd changed. That I could be the man she believed in before everything fell apart.
Because losing Arya again?
That wasn't an option.
I held her tighter and closed my eyes, letting her warmth ground me.
Maybe tomorrow she'd wake up unsure.
Maybe she'd doubt me again — and I'd deserve that.
But I'd keep showing up.
Keep loving her.
Keep choosing her.
Every day.
Until she believed I never stopped.