Elle's Pov
My phone buzzes before I even open my eyes. Dozens of missed calls from my staff, the foundation, vendors. I roll over, but the bed is cold. Damian is already gone.
I throw off the covers, shove my hair into a clip and and scramble for my clothes. I'm out of the room in minutes, nearly colliding with Ms. Vivian in the hall.
"Was on my way to you. Breakfast is ready, ma'am."
"I don't have the time." I bolt past her, eyes on the door. "Thank you."
The gala is today. Nothing can go wrong.
I make it back to my apartment just after sunrise. It's too quiet. My mother's usual morning chaos is missing.
"Where are you?" already fishing my phone out to dial her number. Straight to voicemail.
Then I call Camila. "Where's Mom? Did she leave a note?"
"I don't know. She was there when I left for work. but she's been muttering about visiting the foundation. I told her to stay away, but you know her."
I grit my teeth. "I know exactly what that woman is capable of."
"Breathe, girl," Camila teases. "You should be glowing after last night. Did you get some sugar or what?"
"Sugar?" I scoff, as my face heats up. "Last night was a mess. And now I have to handle a ballroom full of donors while this… this feeling is still huming in my blood. I can't think straight."
Camila laughs, but I cut her off. "I don't have time to joke. I need to finalize vendors and volunteers before Mom wrecks the place."
"Okay, okay. Good luck, because you're going to be needing it."
"You're still coming, right?"
She hesitates. "Work is heavy, Elle. I don't know if..."
"Oh no... please Cam," the plea slips out before I can stop it. "You're the only backup I have. I can't do this alone."
A long pause. Then a sigh. "Fine. I'll be there. Just be careful with your mother."
I hang up and pull my shoulders back. Armor on.
This gala is actually happening.
Damian's Pov
The hospital smells like antiseptic, always hated it. A scent that reminds me of everything I've lost. I sit in the plastic chair, hands clasped so tight my knuckles are white. 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 a week now. You missed your refill."
I rub the back of my neck. "I've been busy. My life has been… complicated." Last night flashes through my head; the heat, the energy and the way she looked at me. I shove the memory away. "I forgot."
"You can't forget." His tone stays calm, but it screams 'strictness'. "The degeneration doesn't pause because you're busy."
My stare at the floor. I know this lecture by heart and I hate it.
"The medication slows the nerve damage, that's your lifeline. Without it, the clock ticks faster. You aren't ready for things to get worse, Damian."
"Yeah, I know. It wasn't on purpose."
"I'm aware." Gilbert softens a little. "I see the news. Congratulations, boy. 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 as he measures, checks, and scribbles notes. I nod in the right places and pretend I'm fine.
He hands me the bottle. I stand to leave, my hand on the door handle. Then, a cold knot of anxiety ties itself in my gut. I turn back.
"Gilbert."
He glances up from his computer. "Yes?"
I step back into the room, my arms crossed tight over my chest. I can negotiate billion-dollar mergers without a flinch, but my throat is locking up now. "The nerves dying… does it affect… everything?"
He pauses, then understands. "You mean sexually?"
My face feels like it's on fire. It's ridiculous. I stare at a spot on the wall. "Yeah. That."
Gilbert clears his throat. "When you skip doses, symptoms flare. Weakness, numbness. Yes, function can be affected. It isn't necessarily permanent, but your body is sending you a warning. You can't skip."
"So it's just the missed doses?" I ask, my voice flat, desperate for that to be the only answer.
"Most likely. Get back on schedule. If it persists, we'll run tests." He offers a small smile. "You're allowed to live your life, Damian. You just have to be healthy enough to stay in it."
I nod once. "Thank you, Doctor."
I shove the pills into my pocket and walk out. His words following me down the hall like a ghost, reminding me that even with all my money, I'm still a man running out of time.