“You have someone else, don’t you? That’s why you won’t look me in the eye?”
My head snapped up. I glared so hard he stepped back. “Get out.”
“Not until you tell me the truth.”
“You want the truth? Fine. I fucked someone hard, and he hit me during it. Happy now?”
Rage and disbelief flashed across Damian’s face. He clenched his fist and slammed it into the wall, so close I flinched. The bang reverberated through my bones.
Without another word, he turned and strode for the door.
A violent tremor shot through me. The room tilted. Darkness crept at the edges of my vision. I reached for the wall, but my knees failed. Cold tile bit through my shirt as I slid to the floor. My breath came shallow and fast. A low hum pulsed in my ears.
Ference appeared in the doorway. Our eyes met for a second—then everything went black.
Chapter 18 Damian
Iwas just about to leave the shop when Ference’s face went rigid, frozen in horror.
“Damian!” he shouted.
I turned and saw Daisy on the floor. I sprinted to her and dropped to my knees.
“Daisy!” I checked her pulse—shallow, but steady. “Daisy!”
Her eyelids fluttered. She opened her eyes—disoriented, pale. “What…?” she murmured, blinking. Her gaze drifted around the room, then locked on mine.
“You fainted.”
She tried to sit up. I slid an arm behind her back and eased her against the wall. Sweat stood on her forehead; her eyes were glassy.
“It just went black for a moment, but I’m fine now.”
“I saw it,” Ference said. “She didn’t fall—she sank. No hit to the head.”
I studied Daisy. Her face looked fragile, almost translucent.
“The dizziness is because I haven’t eaten or drunk enough. And I get lightheaded during my period.”
“Why didn’t you say something? Fuck, Daisy…”
“I’ll drink more from now on,” she said softly. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
Ference and I exchanged a look. He stepped forward, grabbed a water bottle from the desk, uncapped it, and handed it to her. Daisy took a sip, then another. Her hands trembled. I knelt again, my gaze drilling into hers.
“You look dangerously thin. Like you haven’t eaten in days.”
“I wasn’t hungry.”
Ference crouched with us. “Should we take her somewhere she can lie down?”
“To the library,” I said.
“I’m fine,” she murmured, pushing herself upright. “I can manage the stairs.”
She tried to pull away, but I didn’t release her. Her eyes met mine—not pleading, clear. Proud. Maybe too proud.
“I know what you’re thinking. And no—I’m not going to faint again,” she said before I could speak.
