Chapter Eight
The Ghost returns.
The air inside the room froze.
Gray Chapman stood just outside the glass doors, his silhouette barely visible against the moonlight. The cold glint in his eyes cut through the darkness. I did not need to see his face clearly to recognize him. His movements were unmistakable: graceful and calculated.
"Damian…" I whispered, my voice trembling.
He did not respond immediately. His eyes remained fixed on the figure outside. I noticed his hand twitch, almost imperceptible, but there. His mind was racing and calculating.
Then he turned sharply toward me.
"Stay in. "Do not leave this room," Damian said, his voice steely, but I could hear a hint of panic.
I did not want to listen. I did not want to be a bystander in this. But as I looked at him, I saw the weight of something ancient in his eyes—a fear I did not expect from a man like Damian.
He is not afraid of Gray. He is afraid of losing control.
I took a step back toward the window, my fingers brushing the cool glass. Gray's eyes met mine, sending a shiver down my spine. His gaze had a haunting quality to it, as if he had already decided who I was and what I meant to Damian.
"Damian," Gray's deep and cold voice echoed through the glass. "I see you have made your decision."
Damian stepped forward, his presence commanding, but something about his stance made me hesitant.
"I never stopped looking for you, Gray," he explained. The words were calm, but the tension in his voice could not be disguised.
Gray chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent shivers through me.
"I understand," he said. "And now you have involved her in this."
When I felt his gaze return to me, I instinctively took a step back. My heart raced like a wild drumbeat in my chest. What did Gray know? How much did he see?
"You have always been predictable, Damian," Gray said, amused. "You always take what you cannot have, until you break it."
Damian's jaws tightened. "This is not about you."
Gray raised his eyebrow. "Is it not?" He leaned closer to the window, his shadow blocking the light. "Tell me, Naomi, how long do you think you will last before you see through the illusion he is created for you?"
I flinched, as if his words had physically hit me. Damian moved to stand beside me, but his presence brought no comfort. If anything, his nervousness was contagious.
"I know you are not the same man I knew, Gray," Damian explained. "You have changed."
Gray's eyes flashed with something dangerous, colder than I had ever seen.
"So you haven't?" He shot back. "Do you think she will save you from what you have become? From what you have buried?
Gray's voice echoed in the silence, giving the room a suffocating feeling.
"Enough," Damian finally said. "I will handle it."
He approached the door, but Gray raised a hand, his voice smooth as oil.
"Damian, if you go out there, you will not be fighting me. "You are aware of this."
Damian came to a halt, his hand resting on the door handle, but his back was stiff and his stance frozen.
Gray's smile swept across the glass like a virus.
"You can never undo what you have done. "And Naomi..." He paused, enjoying the moment. "I advise you to keep your distance. Nobody survives the ghosts."
With that, the shadow disappeared into the darkness of the forest beyond the house.
---Even after Gray left, the tension in the room persisted. The walls seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for something to break.
Damian stood with his hands clenched at his sides, his back to me.
I could not stay silent any longer.
"Damian, what happened?" I inquired, my voice trembling. "What is this?" What is going on between you and him?
His shoulders slumped, and when he finally turned to face me, I could see the weight of years—a burden of secrets too heavy to bear.
"Gray…" He began, but his speech faltered. "He is not just a ghost. Naomi, he is part of me. I have kept that part locked away."
"I do not understand."
Damian ran his hand through his hair and closed his eyes, as if the memories were too much to bear. We were soldiers together. We are not at war with another country, but rather with ourselves. We did things that I can not take back."
"Is that what he meant by 'buried'?" I asked, moving closer.
"Yes," Damian whispered. And he is returned now. to serve as a reminder of all I have lost. To remind me of my former self."
There was a long, oppressive silence between us.
When he finally said, "I never wanted you involved in this," his voice was hardly audible. "But you are now. Gray will also come get you. He will come get us both."
His words made my chest tight, so I swallowed. "And what happens now?"
Torn between defending me and the warped reality he was caught in, Damian gazed at me with haunted eyes.
"We wait now," he said quietly. for him to initiate contact."
"We wait now," he said quietly. for him to initiate contact."