ELLE'S POV
My phone buzzes before I open my eyes. Dozens of missed calls; my staff, the foundation. My stomach drops. Damian is already gone. Of course he is. Last night was a disaster.
I throw off the covers, shove my hair into a clip and pull on the first clothes I can find. I cram my bag with anything I might need and nearly run into Ms. Vivian in the hallway.
"Was about to come get you. Breakfast is ready, ma'am."
"No." I move past her, eyes on the front door. "I'm in a hurry. Thank you." Today's gala will not be derailed. Nothing will touch it.
The house is too quiet when I get back a little after sunrise. Her normal morning noise is gone.
"Where are you?" I mutter, fishing my phone out to dial my mother's number. Straight to voicemail.
Camila answers on the second ring. "Where's Mom? Did she leave a note?"
"I don't know. She was still at home when I left for work. But… she's been sneering about going to the foundation. I told her not to, but well... you know your mother."
I grit my teeth. "I know exactly what that woman is capable of."
"Girl, breathe," Camila teases. "Besides... you should be relaxed after last night. Got some sugar, right?"
I scoff. "Sugar? Don't flatter me. Last night was a mess. And now I'm supposed to handle all this with…" I clench my fist until they ache, "...this hot, brutal, horny feeling still in me."
A tiny, embarrassed pause from Camila. "What could possibly have..."
"Camila," my voice drops, no jokes. "I don't have time. I need to finalise the vendors, confirm the volunteers. We'll talk about last night tonight. Right now, I need to go to the foundation before Mom wrecks everything."
"Okay, okay. Good luck, oh. You're gonna need a lot of that," she breathes out a laugh.
I hesitate, then add, "But you're still coming, right?" forcing the plea into the last line.
Camila hesitates. "I… I don't know. Work's heavier than I expected."
"Oh no... please Cam " I plead, urgently. "You're literally the only backup I have today. I can't do this without you."
A long pause. Then Camila sighs. "Fine. I'll be there. Don't do anything stupid. And be careful with your mom."
I hang up, phone slipping from my hand. Determination settles over me like armor. G
This gala won't wait for anyone; not last night, not Damian, not mother.
DAMIAN'S POV
The hospital smells like antiseptic. Clean and sterilised. I hate it. The walls, the light, the hum of machines; everything feels like a reminder. I sit stiffly in the chair, hands clasped so tightly. I don't trust them not to shake.
Dr. Gilbert walks in with a sigh that sounds like it's been waiting all night.
"Mr. Blackwell," he says, settling into his seat. "I've been calling you for almost a week. You didn't come for your refill."
I exhale, rubbing the back of my neck. "I've been busy. A lot has been going on."
Last night flashes across my mind; her voice, the edge in it, I push them away. "I totally forgot."
"You can't forget." His tone stays calm, but it screams 'strictness'. "You know what this thing does. The degeneration doesn't pause because your life gets complicated."
My jaw tightens. I know this speech. I hate this speech.
He continues, "the medication slows the nerve deterioration, that's your lifeline. Without it, the progression speeds up. You told me yourself you're not ready for things to worsen."
"Yeah, I know. It wasn't on purpose."
"I'm aware." Gilbert softens a little. "I saw the news, the interviews, the company announcement, the engagement, the baby. Congratulations. But none of that matters if you're not healthy enough to be around for it. Prioritize yourself, Damian."
I don't respond. I stare at the floor until he hands me the refill.
The rest is routine: checks, measurements, adjustments. I nod where I need to and pretend I'm fine.
When it's done, I stand and head for the door. My hand closes around the handle.
Then something snags inside me. Embarrassment? Anxiety? Both.
I turn back.
"Gilbert."
He glances up from his computer. "Yes?"
I step back into the room, tense. "I need to ask you something." My voice dips, reluctant. "The nerves dying… the degeneration… does it affect everything?"
He pauses, then understands. "You mean..."
"Yeah." My arms fold across my chest like that can shield me. "That."
It's ridiculous how hot my face feels. I negotiate billion-dollar deals without blinking, but this? This makes my throat lock.
Gilbert clears his throat. "Damian, when you miss your medication, symptoms can flare in unexpected ways. Weakness, numbness… and yes, in some cases, sexual function can be affected."
I stare at a spot on the wall like it offended me. It's easier than looking at him.
He adds, "It doesn't mean it's permanent. It just means your body is telling you something. This is exactly why you can't skip."
"So it's because I missed doese?" I ask keeping my voice flat.
"Most likely." He offers a reassuring smile. "Get back on schedule. If it persists, we'll run tests. But right now, consistency is what matters."
I nod once. "Fine."
"Damian," he says gently as I turn again, "you're allowed to live your life. You just have to keep yourself healthy enough to live it."
I don't answer.
I just shove the medication into my pocket and walk out, the echo of his words following me down the hall.