HE OWNS ME

Yeah! Maybe! Just maybe. Maybe only he and I can settle this?


If he didn't throw huffs when I stood him up at the engagement party, then perhaps that hints he is not into this marriage too. Probably, right? If he loathes this idea just like I do, then we can come to an amicable agreement to repudiate it together. If we both decide we don't want this, then maybe, just maybe, our parents will reconsider their fucking absurd idea. A combined force is always better and more powerful than just one force, right? If not my father, maybe Mr. Riccaforte Senior would not want to subject his son to a marriage of absolute torture. That makes sense, right?

I should acquaint him with this wise plan of mine, but this is Damian Almeda we are talking about here—the sensitive, insecure, possessive, and protective Damian Almeda. What else did I leave about him? A lot, and I know. But I don't have time to describe everything about him. I cannot risk seeing him go crazy when I tell him I am considering the possibility of facing my best friend if and only when the need arises. That will freak the shit out of his arse. I will have to keep this a secret from him for his own sake.

"Listen, Damian. The only thing I know right now is that my father is sick, and that is the sole reason why I am going home. I think everyone in their right mind will respect that for now. When he feels better, we will see how things unfold. I promise to keep you informed of every single detail. And I promise that nothing will take away your place in my life and my heart." I assure him.


"What if..." he starts, but wanders off as soon as he starts. There is absolutely nothing that can put him at ease when it comes to this subject, is there? 'What if your father asks you to honor the agreement? Can you decline the plea of your father even on his sick bed?"

And he had complicated issues this much? You know, these are the kinds of questions I don't want to bang my head with right now.


Can I?

Why is he freaking me out, huh? And the truth is, I can't vouch that my father will not bring that topic up. What will I do then? Dismiss him? Defy him? Run away again. Until when? I slipped away from him once; can I make it out of his sight again? Do I even have the audacity and the guts to forsake my sick father? Do I have the heart to defy him on his sick bed?

I shake my head before my head bursts. "We will cross that bridge when we get there, Damian. Let us not exhaust ourselves with questions that we don't have answers to."

"Okay. But supposing those circumstances do actually force you to meet your betrothed, What becomes of me, then? What would you tell me then?" The words hang heavy in the air, a sharp knife impaling through my heart with their brutal honesty.

I swallow hard, trying to push down the lump that forms in my throat at the mere thought of facing such a scenario. The prospect of being torn between duty and desire is a daunting one, threatening to unravel the fragile thread that binds us together.

But even as my heart aches with the weight of his question, I know that I owe him the truth. "I don't know," I reply softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "I wish I had all the answers, but I don't. All I know is that I care about you more than words can express, and I will do everything in my power to protect what we have."

My words hang in the air, heavy with uncertainty and unspoken fears. He keeps quiet for a long time.

There are us. Forever will be us. Now and forever. He and I will forever be what we are—soulmates, better halves, the perfect couple. That is what I want, and what I want to hold on to for as long as eternity is involved. I am never letting go of this.

"There is more, Damain," I say, summoning his attention.

'What?" He implores, his voice low but deep with anticipation.

'I have loved you, Damian. I still do, and I forever will love only you, come whatever may. You have my heart and soul, Damian. I have nothing else whatsoever to offer to that so-called son of Riccaforte or any other person in this world! You have the entire, me!" I assure him.

"Even if he is all that I am?" He queries, his orbs darkening with the urge for my oath and honesty.

This is the second time he has repeated this statement. And again, I am left wondering inwardly: How can anyone else in this whole world be everything that Damian is? That is impossible, right? Unless he has a twin, which is also impossible, as far as I know.

"Even if he is all that you are and much more, I will still send them to the woods to meet the wolves. He is not my Damian, so will you relax now, Mr. Almeda?" I tease because he seems like the one whose father is sick. My!

It feels so good to be loved like this, to have someone who frets over me with such genuine concern. As he pulls me into a hug out of the blue, I find solace in his arms, surrendering to the warmth and safety he offers. I drink in his rich aura, cherishing every moment as if it were my last. Oh, how I am going to miss this for those days I will be away. Oh, how I am going to miss you, my love. But it's only for a short while.

Reluctantly, we pull away from each other as a slight knock on the window interrupts our embrace.