The CEO's Rejected Wife And Secret Heir-Chapter 143: When we first met

Damien pov

"Yes." I looked down at our joined hands. "And Aria, I can’t take that back. Can’t undo the damage I did. But I need you to know—every cruel word I said, every horrible thing I accused you of—it was all a lie. A desperate, cowardly lie to protect myself from feeling something real."

She was quiet for so long I thought she might leave. Might tell me that knowing the truth made it worse, not better. Then she touched my face gently. "Thank you for telling me."

"That’s it?" I looked up at her. "Just thank you?"

"What else is there to say?" Her smile was sad. "You were broken, Damien. Your father broke you systematically, taught you that love was death. And yes, you hurt me terribly. But—" She paused. "But understanding why helps. It doesn’t erase the pain, but it helps me see that it wasn’t about me. It was about you being too damaged to accept love."

"I’m not that damaged anymore." I stood, pulling her up with me. "You healed me, Aria. You and Noah. You showed me that love isn’t weakness. That vulnerability isn’t death. That I could be human and survive it."

"We healed each other," she corrected. "Because Damien, I was broken too. By you, yes. But also by my family, by believing I wasn’t enough. And we—" Her voice cracked. "We fixed each other’s broken pieces and built something stronger."

"I don’t deserve you." The words came out anguished. "After what I did"

"Stop." She pressed her fingers to my lips. "Stop saying you don’t deserve things. You made mistakes. Terrible mistakes. But you’ve spent months proving you’ve changed. Showing up for Noah. Fighting for us. Choosing love over fear every single day. That’s who you are now, and that man?" She smiled through tears. "That man deserves everything."

"Aria" My voice broke.

"I forgave you," she said softly. "Months ago, really. But I needed to understand. Needed to know if you’d actually loved me then or if this was new. And now" She laughed wetly. "Now it somehow makes it better. Knowing you loved me then too, that I wasn’t crazy for hoping we could be real."

"We were real." I pulled her close. "We were always real. I was just too broken to see it."

"And now?" She looked up at me.

"Now I see you clearly." I cupped her face. "See how strong you are. How brave. How you took the terrified, emotionally dead man I was and loved him into being human again. How you chose mercy over revenge. How you’re teaching our son that love is worth fighting for. Aria—" I rested my forehead against hers. "You’re the bravest person I know. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life being worthy of you."

"You already are," she whispered.

"I’m not. But I’m trying." I kissed her gently. "Every day, I’m trying."

"That’s all I need." She kissed me back, deeper this time. "Just you trying. Showing up and choosing us."

"Always." I pulled her closer, the kiss turning desperate—years of longing, of loss, of learning to love again poured into it. When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathing hard. "There’s one more thing," I said. "One more truth I need to tell you."

"Okay." She was still in my arms, trusting.

"That night at the lodge." I stopped, gathering courage. "When we made love—it was real. Everything I felt for you in that moment was real."

"I remember." Her voice was soft.

"But then I left you there. Woke up before dawn and ran like a coward." The shame burned. "And when Vivian showed me that recording after" I stopped, the memory was still bitter. "I let my anger consume me. Let myself believe her lies instead of trusting what we’d shared. Instead of trusting you."

"Damien"

"Let me finish." I needed to get this out. "That night at the lodge should have been the beginning of us. Instead, I let Vivian poison it. I spent the weeks before the wedding convincing myself you’d manipulated me, that what happened between us was part of some scheme. And then on our wedding day—" My voice cracked. "I destroyed everything, we never even got a wedding night. Never got to be husband and wife. Because I believed lies over the truth I’d felt in your arms."

"You did," she said quietly.

"I had you once. Held you, loved you, felt what we could be together. And I still threw it all away." Tears fell freely now. "I’ve spent years hating myself for it, for running from the lodge, for believing Vivian, for what I did on our wedding day. For not being brave enough to fight for you when I had the chance."

"You’re brave now," she said softly. "You’re being so brave right now by telling me these things. Being vulnerable. That’s love, Damien, real love. The kind that lasts."

"I love you." I said it fiercely, desperately. "I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything, more than success or money or my own life. You’re—" I struggled for words. "You’re everything. My partner, my home. My reason for being better. And I" Tears fell freely now. "I’m so grateful you gave me another chance. That you saw past the monster I was to the man I could be, that you" I couldn’t continue.

"I love you too." She was crying now too. "I love the man you’ve become, the father you are. The partner you’ve proven yourself to be and Damien?" She smiled through tears. "I forgive you. Completely. For all of it, the past is the past. All that matters is who we are now. Who we choose to be. Together."

"Together," I echoed.

I kissed her again, and this time it was different. Not desperate or frantic, but deep. When I swept her into my arms, carrying her toward the rooftop door, she laughed. "Where are we going?"

"To continue this conversation somewhere more private." I kissed her neck. "Somewhere I can show you exactly how much I love you. How much I’ve always loved you."

"Olivia has Noah for the night," she said, her voice breathless.

"Good." I carried her into the elevator, pressing the button for our floor with my elbow. "Because Aria, I’ve been waiting to make love to my wife properly. And I’m not rushing it."

"Your fiancée," she corrected with a smile.

"My future wife." I kissed her again as the elevator descended. "Again for real this time."

"For real this time," she agreed.

The elevator doors parted with that familiar soft chime, and I carried her—my wife, my everything—down the shadowed hallway like she was something fragile and priceless I’d finally been allowed to hold again.

Her thighs gripped my hips, arms tight around my neck, and every step made her breasts brush against my chest through the thin silk of her blouse. I could feel her heartbeat hammering against mine. I kicked the bedroom door shut behind us, the sound too loud in the quiet.

I laid her down on the bed slowly, reverently, watching the way her dark hair fanned across the white sheets. My voice came out rougher than I meant. "I love you." I said it again because once wasn’t enough—would never be enough. "I love you and I’m never going to stop."

Her lips curved, soft and dangerous at the same time. "Good." She reached up, fingers curling into my hair, pulling me down until our mouths met. "Because I love you too and I’m never letting you go."

That was all it took. I kissed her like a man who’d been starving for years—deep, desperate, tasting every corner of her mouth while my hands shoved her blouse up and over her head. The bra came next; black lace, delicate straps. I tore the clasp open with one hand and threw it somewhere behind me. Then there she was—bare from the waist up, nipples already dark and tight, begging for my mouth.

I didn’t make her wait. I lowered my head and took one peak between my lips, tongue circling slow before I sucked hard. She gasped, back arching off the mattress. I scraped my teeth over the sensitive bud just enough to make her whimper my name, then switched to the other one, giving it the same ruthless attention while my hand slid down her body.

Her trousers were gone in seconds—buttons popping, zipper dragged down, fabric and panties yanked off her legs together. She kicked them away and lay there naked, thighs parted just enough for me to see how wet she already was, glistening in the low light.

I reached into the nightstand drawer without looking away from her face. The black vibrator felt cool against my palm. I thumbed it on; the low buzz filled the room like a promise. "High time we spiced some things up," I told her, voice dark.

Her eyes went wide—genuinely wide—with shock. For a heartbeat she just stared at the sleek toy in my hand, lips parted, cheeks flushing deeper than they already were from everything we’d done so far.

"Damien..." She blinked, then let out a soft, surprised laugh that turned into something breathier. "Seems you planned ahead."