Tears blurred my vision. I reached for a tranquilizer, swallowed it with water, and stared at the ceiling. I couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t move.
A hollow opened inside me.
And all I needed was Damian. I turned the phone face down. The night didn’t blink.
After a week, I forced myself back to work. If I stayed at home any longer, I would lose my mind. Work might distract me.
But my stomach clenched the moment I stepped into the shop. I felt weak and wrung out, as if the past days had drained every ounce of energy from me. My thoughts kept circling Damian, circling that night with Mason. The pictures of him with Silvia ate at me until the pain in my chest became unbearable.
Ference had asked several times if I was all right. I sat at my desk, trying to bury myself in routine, but my thoughts kept breaking free. Finally, I grabbed my bag and went into the kitchen. When had I last eaten? I couldn’t remember. I reached for a pack of headache pills and a tranquilizer, swallowing both.
“Miss Daisy. Who hurt you?” Ference’s voice cut through the silence.
I turned away. “It’s nothing.”
He came closer, tilted my chin up, and turned my face left and right. “Who did this to you? Who hit you?”
“It’s nothing. I walked into a shelf.”
“Daisy, I’m not leaving until you tell me what happened—and where the hell I was when I should’ve been protecting you. Who did this?”
I shook my head. “Nobody. I really walked into a shelf. I have a client coming soon, I need to prepare.” I pushed past him. Ference hesitated, then left.
After the customer, I took a safety knife and opened the delivery that had arrived earlier. Carefully, I unwrapped the three artifacts.
The door slammed open. Damian stormed in.
“Will you tell me what’s going on here?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was sick.”
“Daisy, what happened?”
“Nothing. And if something did, I’m sure you don’t care.”
“Of course I care.”
“Then why didn’t you write to me? Why didn’t you come see me?”
“At first I was angry. I had to explain why the guest of honor—the one responsible for the discovery—wasn’t there. Then I thought you were upset because of Silvia, so I gave you space.”
“Nonsense. I just don’t mean enough to you.”
He caught my chin and lifted it. “You’re terribly pale. When was the last time you ate?” His eyes narrowed; his face went hard as stone. “Where did you get that mark?”
“Are we really making drama over a bruise? I ran into a damn shelf. Satisfied? Did Ference call you?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“I bet he did. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”
“Daisy, tell me right now what happened,” he growled. “Why did you leave the gala and lock yourself away for a week?”
I stepped back, fighting tears. “Please, Damian, just go. Let me work in peace.”
“I can’t.”
“You must. Otherwise I’ll leave.”
