DAMIEN POV
I'm watching her again.
It's become a habit over the past few weeks. A sick, self-destructive habit I can't seem to break.
Elena sits at the table with Adrien, going through another batch of files. She's laughing at something he said actually laughing. Her whole face lights up, the weight of trauma lifting for just a moment.
She never laughs like that with me.
I take another drink. The whiskey burns, but not enough to numb what I'm feeling.
This is what I took from her.
The thought hits me like a physical blow, and it's been hitting me repeatedly for weeks now. Every time I see them together. Every time she smiles at him. Every time she relaxes in his presence in a way she never does with me.
She's smiling with him. Laughing. Relaxed.
I never gave her that.
When Elena was with me really with me, in those first three months she was terrified. Trapped. Every smile forced. Every moment shadowed by the fact that I held all the power and she had none.
