Endless Love by Bianca Borell
Chapter Seventeen
BRIA
The doors to the elevator slide shut, and his lips crash on mine while I grip his shirt, losing myself in him. Will I ever get enough of him, like this, mine, in love with me? No, never.
In his Aston Martin, he interlaces our fingers while he drives until we reach our destination, with Damien constantly shaking his head at London’s traffic.
Hand in hand, we stroll through Covent Garden, lost in the crowd, fascinated by the street performances. I inhale the scents of diverse food at every corner, my stomach dipping with anticipation at every turn. Until we reach the Ivy.
The Ivy was our place. It holds so many memories, and now it will witness that we found each other again
“I would come here alone from time to time, keeping us alive in my heart. Bria,” He pauses, and through a gulp he adds, “I have spent seven years without you, but there wasn’t a day that I didn’t think of you, where you didn’t own every part of me.”
“It was the same for me.”
A warmth settles in my chest. Maybe other London areas have a part of Damien, of his life, but this place is a sanctuary of stained-glass windows. Stepping inside, I let the image sink in—the opulent central bar, the masterpiece of this place, and the décor speak of glamor and good taste in a classic ambiance—in one word, exquisite.
My attention shifts the moment a waitress approaches. She greets us and leads us to the same table we always occupied. I battle with some emotions when I sit on the plush, green couch. He must have requested this table specifically. I lean into him and whisper, “Thank you, baby.”
“Everything and more for you, always.”
We order the chef’s choice. The atmosphere is light, like time flows slower and life is on hold. We let the moment sink in.
“Good?”
“Yes, more than good.”
“London has its perks,” he admits.
“Do you miss it?”
“London?” he asks, his eyes focused on me.
I nod, and he interlaces our fingers on the table, his eyes focused on mine.
“I have missed only one thing or better said, one person, and it was you. Places are insignificant when your heart is empty. Today I got to see London through your eyes, and it got its appeal back for me.” His mouth curves into a half-smile as if he can’t decide if he’s nostalgic or happy.
“Was it so bad? I mean, don’t get me wrong, but it is the city you chose.” He drags a hand down his face, and his eyelids sink.
“Zürich was killing me without you there. I chose London because there was only a faint trace you left behind, a trace that both thrilled and scared the hell out of me.”
“That’s all?”
“Also, my study, my work, and Chloe . . . she was my safety net.” At his admission, I suck in a breath.
“I will always be honest with you, Damien. I hold a certain animosity for her for the way she found a place in your life when I wasn’t there, only to realize I’m being hypocritical. I had Alex.”
“Bria, baby, there’s a tremendous difference between my relationship with Chloe and yours with Alex. I don’t need her in my life. I like that she is there. But you love him and need him in your life. I put my jealousy aside because you chose me. You’re in love with me. It’s my bed you share and my ring you wear.”
I close my eyes for a second, raising a palm in front of me.
“Let me finish. But I’m thankful you found her. She loves you for you, and I believe she’s a beautiful person not only on the outside but on the inside too. She told me about the two of you and how no woman could replace me, not even herself. Instead, she settled to be the one person you needed, a confidante and friend. Still, if she took the risk . . .”
His face twists. I hit a soft spot. I don’t want to betray her trust, and I hope I didn’t, but I have to end this twisted jealousy I have for her.
“I don’t know what to say, but Chloe and I . . . Fuck, okay. I’ll tell you to end this.” I freeze, even my breath halts, and he adds, “Forgive me.”
“Damien.”
“No, you need to know. I hit on her when I came back from the States after seeing you and thought you moved on for good. She almost went with it, but I whispered your name when I closed my eyes to kiss her. After your birthday, it happened again, this time it was her, but I couldn’t after hearing the truth about your illness. Inside, I was torn apart, not knowing where you were or if you’d come back. I wanted no woman, not even her, no one except you. The first time I numbed myself, the second I needed to work through it.”
His confession rattles me. I battle to keep the tears at bay. He tips my chin up and urges me to look at him.
“No woman could ever replace you, and you always have had all of my heart. What I feel for you, no one could have had even half of.” As if he’s not done with confessing, he adds, “Even if I married, perhaps even had kids. Whenever I would have found out the truth, I would have rushed to you and fucking begged for you to take me back.”
Silence falls over us as his confessions tend to do that. I’m glad it never came to be because I would have taken him back and not cared, not cared at all—selfish woman in love.
The discussion might have had some tension in it, but we diffused it. We have lost years between us, but we gained two friends for life. They are important to us. It’s them who stood at our sides when we were anything but pleasant companions.
We leave the restaurant, and on our way back to the car, both our phones ring. I pick up and answer, “Soph.”
“We’re bored, lovebirds. Let’s go out.”
“Do you have something in mind?”
“You agree?” Her incredulity surprises me.
“I never was a wallflower.”
“Yes, it was more said with my brother in mind. If he could put you in a gilded cage and keep you only for himself, he’d do it in a heartbeat.”
I laugh because she’s right.
“Let me check. He’s on the phone. One second.”
Chloe’s name falls from his lips, but her name lost its heavy weight on my heart. Maybe because of his confession or I’m confident enough in our love, but there’s no need to be afraid anymore. He chose me as I chose him, and it’s all that matters. Trust, as a wiser mediator, won. I tap him on the shoulder.
“Baby.”
“Chloe, just a second.” The fact he casts her aside the second I call him adds to my confidence.
“What is it, love?”
“Sophia is bored. We thought it would be fun if we just went out two nights in a row.” His eyebrows draw together, and his eyes narrow at me.
“You need your sleep. I don’t know.” I halt in the middle of the street and seek his eyes.
“Let me clarify something. I’m simply being nice by informing you, and it’s only two nights. I kind of need this, and it would be great to spend more time with them. Everything is changing so fast. I just . . .”
I have him the moment his face softens, and he nods in approval.
“Please invite Chloe too. Have her meet us in two hours at our place.” I hold the phone up to speak to Sophia again and say, “Meet at our place in two hours and call Filip too.”
After we hang up, I text Sarah and she replies she’ll meet us at the club. I mentally put my outfit together before he ends his call. I link my arm through his and tip my chin up. His lips curve into a bright smile, his eyes shine with love.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For inviting Chloe. I might just have fallen even more for you. You’re amazing.”
“It would be great to get to know her better before the wedding.”
“She loves a good night out.”
“You sound rather scared.”
“Chloe can party until she drops.”
“My poor baby too overwhelmed to party.” He pecks the tip of my nose and chuckles.
“Every day, you become more brazen.”
“Hmm, don’t think you can do much about my bad girl inclination,” I banter, my pulse spiking up as his eyes sparkle with mischief.
If I knew what was coming, I wouldn’t have nodded expectantly because he tickles me. I gasp and through bursts of laughter, I say, “Damien . . . please . . . stop.”
“Will you behave?”
“Never.”
I escape from his grasp during the few seconds when he shakes his head at me, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. I rush away as Damien says, “Where do you think you can go? You know what happens when I catch you because I always do.”
His threats succeed with only one thing—heat to course through my veins. He knows damn well what he’s doing. I blink at him in fake outrage, and a sexy chuckle sound flies out of his mouth. He’s slightly behind me, displaying a confident stance at how I have no chance to overrun him. I’m not running. It is more like a rapid walk. But it’s funny, and I smile with the acknowledgment. We have a lot of fun together—we laugh as loud as we love, and we give and give some more.
I lose focus for a second, or better said, let myself be caught, when strong arms envelop me from behind. The heat of his body cocoons me. I close my eyes and let the vivid passion radiate from our bodies consume me. I lock everything in the depths of my heart. Damien turns me toward him as he dips his head and kisses my temple. He closes his eyes briefly and lets an imperceptible breath out. His gesture reveals so much. It shows me all his love, along with his needs, hopes, and fears. Every one of these feelings lay on me like a soft breeze on a scorching summer day.
I lock my hands around his neck, forgetting about the honks and the surrounding buzz. I lose track of time, space, and life as we share a kiss on the stone pavement around some corner, stealing these moments, hiding them from the outside. They are just ours.
If perfection exists, it’s in these moments when two souls bind as lips seek, and warmth unfolds like a thousand sun rays after hundreds of rainy days.
Back in the car, love ballads croon through the stereo system while I sink into the comfortable leather seat, my hands wrapped around his arm. I lay my head on his shoulder. His tender kisses on my hair lull me in until I battle with sleep. Until my heart fully recovers, some tiredness remains. Damien sings along in a velvet-smooth voice, making it harder to resist.
“I’ll wake you when we’re home. Just rest for a while.”
“But . . .”
I try to rebel, but tiredness wins this argument.