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The weight of us

Summary:

They almost lost each other.
Now they’re fighting for a future they never thought they’d have.
When Lilly learns she’s pregnant, she and Damien must face their past, their fears, and the fierce, messy love that refuses to let go.

Notes:

This is my first try at writing hope to have your feedbacks . I'll post one to two chapters every day
English is not my first language not even the second ..... So bear with me please .

Chapter Text

Chapter 1

It’s midnight, and I’m waiting for my boyfriend who went out with his friends.

A few minutes later, the door opens, and he walks in with a big smile. He comes up to me and hugs me—drunkenly.

“Chloe !”
That’s not my name, I say, narrowing my eyes at him. I notice a few kiss stains on his collar, and he smells like a girl’s perfume… but he doesn’t like sweet perfumes.

I blink at him, the drunken haze flickering for a second as my words sink in. A pause. Then that familiar arrogance slithers back into his voice.

“Hm ? Oh… right.” He doesn’t even bother to look at me properly, shrugging off his jacket with careless grace. “You just feel like her when I’m not thinking.”

He walks past me toward the bedroom, voice trailing behind me like cold smoke.

“You’ve got her hair… her shape… but she’s back now.” A beat. The door creaks open. “So don’t take it personally when I erase you.”

I clench my fists. Lol, erase me ! Get it straight—you are the erased one. No, get your drunken ass out of my house ! I shove him out and slam the door.

The bang of the door echoes like a gunshot, jarring him fully sober. For a moment, he just stands there, stunned into silence.

…Then he snaps out of it with a scoff, eyes flashing with anger.

He strides forward and bangs his fist on the door.

“What the hell do you think you’re—open this door, goddamnit !”

I shout from behind the door, not even taking the effort of opening. “I’m calling the police on you ! If you don’t leave !” He’s not worth it.

A cold, quiet laugh echoes through the door.

“Call them.”

“Go ahead. Tell them what ? That you let a man into your bed who called another woman’s name ?” His voice drops—sharp, venomous. “They’ll ask why you stayed this long… love.”

Silence follows.

Then slow footsteps retreating. One last whisper lingers like smoke under the door :

“…You’re right. You’re not Chloe.
You’re just the one who let me leave.”