Page 60 of My Ruthless Husband

“Grab some food, not much as I already have beverages and snacks. And come over.”

“I’m not coming up to your apartment, angel.”

There’s that nickname that takes my breath away. Smiling like a fool, I say, “I know. I have a perfect spot for a little picnic.”

When he doesn’t say anything, I choose another tactic. “Oh, no, don’t even try sulking,” I say. “You stood me up, after all. And it wasn’t exactly the most considerate move, was it?”

He grunts. “You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

“Never.”

He grunts again, muttering something about me blackmailing him before hanging up.

I bolt to my feet and run to my bedroom to get ready. Thank God, I had another shower in the evening, I just have to tame my curls in record speed.

???

While searching for the perfect spot for our stargazing outing, I discovered a hidden gem, tucked away amidst rolling hills and towering ancient oak trees.

We just polished off the finger sandwiches Damian brought. It was clear they’d been freshly made by a chef, not picked up from a store. The bread was perfectly soft, and the presentation was immaculate, nothing about it resembled anything you’d buy off the shelf.

He even brought chocolates, my absolute favorite, the kind I could eat until I’m sick. It’s crazy how he always picks out exactly what I want, without me saying a word. There’s no way it’s just a coincidence. It’s fate. Me and him. That’s why he always knows exactly what I love—because we’re meant to be. I just know it.

I unwrap the foil, and the rich scent of cocoa and hazelnut drifts up, inviting me in. I pop it in my mouth, close my eyes, and sigh as the chocolate melts, filling every corner with its flavor.

I open my eyes and find him staring at me. My cheeks redden. “It’s my favorite.” I give him a small smile then lie down on the blanket.

When he keeps sitting, I motion for him to lie with me. When he still doesn’t, I gather my nerve and reach for him. My fingers wrap around his forearm—warm and solid beneath my touch. I’ve wanted to feel it ever since he rolled his sleeves up.

“I don’t bite.” I tease and tug him. He huffs softly, the closest thing to a chuckle I’ve ever heard from him.

He lets me tug him down. And he lies beside me.

We remain quiet, gazing upward at the magnificent night sky. The stars, like radiant jewels, twinkle above us, a breathtaking sight that leaves me in awe.

Then, it hits me—the facts I memorized about the stars and constellations, all for this exact moment. But when I turn to look at Damian, my mind goes completely blank. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I’m just staring at him, completely caught up in him.

It suddenly hits me that nothing—not even all the glittering stars—matters more than him. In this moment, under the night sky, I feel something between us. A connection so strong, even if he doesn’t feel it too.

And I realize now, with every beat of my heart, that the love I have for him isn’t something that will ever disappear. It’s not a passing crush. Not the kind of love you can move on from. I know I can never fall out of love with Damian Montgomery. No matter what happens. And I don’t know if it’s a good thing or the beginning of my downfall.

But as I lay here beside him, gazing at him, I wish that I get to see this view every day for the rest of my life.

As if sensing my gaze, Damian slowly turns his head to meet my eyes. This time, I say nothing to ease my awkwardness at being caught staring at him. I don’t smile sheepishly either. I don’t do anything and let my eyes do the talking.

I’m trying hard to breathe normally but how can I when I’m baring my heart, my soul to him? I feel so vulnerable, so scared yet I keep staring at him.

And then something changes in him. It’s small but I’ve watched him enough to note the difference. And that fills me with determination. It gives me courage to brush my fingers against his on the blanket.

I notice his eyes going darker and my heart feels like it’s going to explode. Every single part of me blushes as seconds tick by. My body hums with awareness all because of that small contact.

I can’t help but want for more. More of that touch. But Damian abruptly pulls his hand away and sits up.

He pulls something out from his pocket. A cigarette. Before he can light it, I sit up and snatch it from his lips, my fingers brushing against his mouth.

“Smoking is bad for your health.”

He stares at me for a long time, his face grim. Then he simply retrieves another one.

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