Chapter 4 I Don’t Need You

• Amanda
• The pounding in my skull intensified, a relentless throb that refused to let me focus. My body was weak and feverish; I trembled as I stood in the hallway. Maya’s cruel words echoed in my mind, over and over again, gnawing at my already fragile state. The world around me blurred, and just as I attempted to take a step forward, my vision went black.
• I collapsed.
• As the darkness swallowed me, I drifted into a dream—one that didn’t feel like a dream at all, but a painful memory forcing its way to the surface.
• I was eighteen again, my heart pounding wildly as I stood in front of Damian in the park near the river. The setting sun cast golden hues over us, but all I could focus on was him—the boy I had loved for as long as I could remember. My palms felt clammy, my stomach tied in anxious knots.
• “Damian,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
• He turned to me, his dark eyes unreadable. “What is it, Amanda?”
• I took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage. “I love you.”
• The words hung in the air between us, thick with emotions that made my chest tighten. But before I could gauge his reaction, Damian exhaled sharply and looked away.
• “Amanda,” he started, his tone careful. “You’re like a sister to me.”
• My heart plummeted. “What?”
• “I already have someone in my heart,” he continued. “I care about you, but not in the way you want me to.”
• Tears stung my eyes as I took a step back, the world spinning around me. I felt like a fool. How had I misread everything so terribly? Without another word, I turned and ran, my vision blurred by tears. I didn’t know where I was going; all I knew was that I had to get away.
• Then, suddenly, I misstepped. The slippery edge of the riverbank gave way beneath my feet, and before I could scream, I plunged into the cold water.
• Panic surged through me as I flailed, desperate to stay afloat, but the current was strong. The world turned dark as water filled my lungs, my vision fading.
• Just as I lost consciousness, I felt strong hands grab me, pulling me toward the surface. When I woke up, coughing and gasping for air, I was lying on the ground, Damian beside me, drenched and pale.
• But he hadn’t been the one who saved me.
• It was Maya. She stood over us, soaked to the bone, her expression frantic with worry. “Are you okay?” she asked.
• I nodded weakly, but something in my head felt… off. A dull ache pounded at the back of my skull, and in the days that followed, I realized I had lost pieces of my memory—important fragments that refused to resurface.
• And ever since that day, Damian had been more infatuated with Maya, the girl who had saved him when he had tried to save me. He had fallen for a hero, a savior—while I had been nothing but the foolish girl who had needed saving.
• The memory sent a jolt through me, and suddenly, I was awake.
• I gasped, my eyes snapping open to the dim interior of a car. The scent of leather filled my nostrils, and the low hum of an engine vibrated through my stiff body. Slowly, I turned my head, my blurry vision focusing on the man beside me.
• It was Damian.
• I stiffened. “Where—” I swallowed thickly. “Where are you taking me?”
• “You fainted,” Damian said without looking at me, his tone as unreadable as ever. “You have a fever. I’m taking you to the hospital.”
• Panic surged through me. No. I couldn’t go. If they examined me, if they ran any tests, they would find out about the baby. I couldn’t possibly let that happen—not yet.
• “No,” I croaked, my voice hoarse. “Take me home.”
• Damian’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “You’re sick, Amanda. You need medical attention.”
• I shook my head, my vision swimming. “I don’t need a hospital. Just take me home.”
• “Amanda,” he warned, his patience clearly waning. “Stop being stubborn.”
• Tears pricked at my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “Please, Damian,” I whispered. “Just take me home.”
• For a long moment, there was only silence. Then, without another word, Damian exhaled sharply and changed the direction of the car.
• The drive home was suffocating. The weight of unspoken words, the memories of the past, and the agony of the present pressed down on me until I could barely breathe. I kept my hands folded over my stomach, as if shielding the tiny life growing inside me from the cruel world around us.
• When we arrived, Damian parked the car and moved to open my door, but I stopped him. “I can manage,” I muttered before stepping out.
• I made it three steps before my legs buckled. Strong arms caught me before I could hit the pavement.
• “Dammit, Amanda,” Damian muttered, lifting me effortlessly into his arms. “You’re burning up.”
• I was too weak to fight him. As much as I hated relying on him, my body had reached its limit. I let my head fall against his shoulder, allowing exhaustion to consume me.
• He carried me inside the house and into my room, carefully laying me down on the bed. He left briefly, returning with a damp cloth. I flinched slightly when he pressed it against my burning forehead.
• “Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
• Damian hesitated before answering. “Because you’re my wife.”
• A bitter laugh escaped me. “That never stopped you before.”
• He didn’t respond. Instead, he continued tending to me, his movements surprisingly gentle. I wanted to push him away, to scream at him, but I was too tired.
• As sleep crept in, I murmured, “I don’t need you, Damian.”
• And for the first time, he didn’t argue.