Rebirth: Love me Again

[DAMIEN]

Estelle crossed her arms. "Didn't get the chance?" Her eyebrow rose like it was preparing to fire a warning shot. "You got a whole year."

"I know . . . it's just that everything happened so fast. One moment, I find out she's my real sister—and then she's pregnant. And maybe . . . maybe I was scared to face you. Scared to meet you again because of what I'd done. Because I knew I hurt you."

Estelle didn't say anything. Not at first.

====

One day, Estelle watched Damien from across the garden bench where he was playing with Ely, her laughter ringing through the air as he twirled her like a little ballerina.

His shirt was half-untucked, his smile crooked, and his eyes—those damned, sincere eyes—never stopped glancing her way.

She still wasn't ready to forgive him. But he didn't stop trying.

Day after day, Damien was there. With quiet apologies, terrible jokes, and real effort. He showed up at Ely's school. He cooked breakfast even when he burned half of it. He endured her silence like a man determined to earn each second of her trust back.

And bit by bit, the cracks in Estelle's walls grew wider.

At least now, Ely knew who her father was—and loved him, unconditionally.

And when Estelle finally gathered the courage to whisper to herself, Maybe we can be a family, it felt like the first breath after years underwater.

So she took the first step. One evening, she looked him in the eye and said, "Damien . . . I think I'm ready to try again. If you are."

But before Damien could answer—before he could even smile—

A gunshot cracked the air like thunder.

Everyone froze.

From the shadows behind the gate, a woman stepped forward—disheveled, eyes wild, trembling hands clutching a small silver pistol. Stacey.

"You ruined everything!" she screamed. Her eyes darted between Damien and Estelle. "You were supposed to love me! Not her!"

Bodyguards scrambled to intercept—but she was too close.

Estelle's breath caught. Her legs locked. Time slowed to a crawl.

And then Damien moved.

Without hesitation, without thinking, he lunged forward—arms wrapping around Estelle, turning his body to shield hers.

The gun went off.

The sound was deafening.

He crumpled to the ground.

Estelle screamed his name, falling to her knees. Blood soaked his shirt. She pressed her hands against the wound, trembling, sobbing, yelling for help she wasn't sure would come in time.

But help did come. Michael rushed Damien into the hospital, Eve flying back to New York, barking orders.

"Michael, you have to save him. He's my brother," Eve ordered.

The emergency med kit they'd been testing—the one still in prototype—was slammed against Damien's chest. Lights flickered. A soft hum filled the air. The bleeding slowed.

Seconds felt like hours. But the tech worked.

The nanobots worked.

Damien lived.

When Damien eyes fluttered open in the hospital room two days later, the first thing he saw was Estelle—curled up beside him, red-eyed, makeup smeared, her hand in his.

"Don't you dare die on me ever again," she whispered.

"Wasn't planning on it," Damien croaked, his voice ragged and dry, but his smile still intact. "I still need to marry you . . . make you my wife . . . And Ely—she needs her father. She needs me and my name."

Estelle let out a soft laugh through her tears, half sobbing, half snorting. "Your ego really is bulletproof," she murmured, wiping her cheeks. "God, you almost died and the first thing you do is propose like it's a Tuesday chore."

But then her lips trembled, and her fingers tightened around his.

"I love you," she whispered. "And yes . . . yes, let's get married."

Damien blinked. "Wait—what?"

Estelle nodded, laughing and crying all at once. "Let's get married, you big idiot! You got shot for me! If that's not enough proof that you're stupidly in love, I don't know what is."

He opened his mouth to respond, but she shushed him with a finger to his lips.

"No, I'm talking now. You've had your moment. I've spent years pretending like I didn't love you. Years of pushing you away, convincing myself I was better off alone—because of pride, fear, ego . . . take your pick."

She stood up and began pacing like a madwoman, throwing her arms up in frustration at herself. "I told myself I didn't need you. That I'd moved on. But the truth?" She turned, pointing a finger at him like an accusation. "The truth is, I've been in love with you since the day I laid eyes on you on that picture."

Damien grinned weakly. "A picture."

"Yep. Lina's fault."

She stormed back to the bed, dramatically dropping to her knees beside him again.

"I was crazy for you then. And I'm even crazier for you now. But I've been hiding it, locking that version of me away—because it was easier to pretend I was fine than to risk getting hurt again. But watching you bleed out in my arms like some tragic telenovela prince? That broke me. I can't pretend anymore."

He stared at her, stunned into silence.

"I want the chaos," she whispered, softer now. "I want the late-night pizza arguments, the stupid jokes, the morning kisses, the laundry disasters, the Ely dance parties, the everything. You. I want you."

Damien chuckled, grimacing slightly from the wound. "So . . . is that a yes to marrying me or a yes to marrying me?"

"I'm saying yes to the two choices," she said, crawling onto the hospital bed beside him with zero care for hospital protocol. "To you. To Ely. To all of it. So heal up, daddy. We've got a wedding to plan."

Damien chuckled, though he immediately winced when a sharp throb from his gunshot wound reminded him he was still very much recovering.

"Damn that, Stacey," he muttered under his breath. "That woman was a certified psycho. Literally."

"I told you she wasn't good for you," Estelle said, arms crossed, one brow arched. "I saw right through her the first time I laid eyes on that woman."

Damien grinned despite the bandage on his side. "What? You recognized a crazy person because you're crazy?"

Estelle let out a laugh. "Exactly. I'm crazy and proud—free-range crazy. That woman? She was bottling hers up like a shaken soda. Sooner or later, she was bound to explode."

Damien winced in amusement. "Well, she definitely popped."

Estelle smirked. "And next time, maybe listen to the woman who's really crazy about you for years."

They laughed and Damien kissed her deeply.