Whispers of a forgetten love

Damian's grip tightened around the whiskey glass as he sat alone in the dimly lit bar. His heart was heavy, his mind clouded. It had been weeks since he and Evelyn broke up, and every day without her felt like a slow punishment. He missed her—missed everything about her. The way she looked at him, the way she challenged him, the way she made him feel alive. But now, all he had was the cold emptiness of his office and the regret that gnawed at his soul.

Before he knew it, he was outside her apartment. A new one. He had made sure she moved somewhere safer after the stalker incident, but she never told him the exact location. Yet, finding her wasn't hard—he always knew where to look when it came to her.

When Evelyn opened her door and saw Damian standing there, reeking of alcohol, her heart clenched. His tie was loosened, the top buttons of his shirt undone, and his dark eyes—those eyes she could never forget—were filled with something she hadn't seen in a long time.

Longing.

"I miss you," he muttered, his voice hoarse.

She inhaled sharply, her grip on the doorknob tightening. "Damian, you're drunk. You should go home."

"No," he shook his head stubbornly, stepping closer. "Home doesn't feel like home without you."

Evelyn hesitated. She had promised herself she would keep her distance, but seeing him like this, vulnerable and aching for her, broke down the walls she had built.

"Come in," she whispered.

—

Damian sat on her couch, eyes lazily watching her as she brought him water. He took the glass but didn't drink. Instead, he reached for her hand, pulling her to sit beside him.

"I don't like this," he murmured, running his thumb over her knuckles.

"Like what?" she asked softly.

"Being apart. You're all I think about, Evelyn."

Her breath hitched. She had tried to move on, to bury the feelings, but now, with him sitting beside her, looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered, she realized she had failed miserably.

"I miss you too," she admitted.

That was all it took. Damian pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair. She smelled like vanilla and warmth—like home. He held her tightly, as if afraid she'd disappear.

"I'm staying here tonight," he said, not asking, just stating.

Evelyn sighed but didn't argue. Maybe… just this once, she could let herself have this moment.

—

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows, bathing the room in golden hues. Evelyn stirred, her body pressed against a hard, warm chest. Her eyes fluttered open to find Damian lying beside her, his arm draped over her waist, his face nestled in her hair.

Memories of last night flooded her—his kisses, his whispered words, his hands that never wandered too far, even when temptation burned in his eyes.

As if sensing her awake, Damian groaned softly and pulled her closer.

"Evelyn…" he murmured against her neck.

A shiver ran through her.

She turned in his arms, meeting his gaze. His dark eyes were hazy with sleep, but there was something else in them too. Desire.

"You didn't go to work," she teased.

"Neither did you," he smirked, fingers tracing the bare skin of her arm. "Guess we should call in sick."

Before she could reply, he leaned in and captured her lips in a slow, deep kiss. Her hands instinctively went to his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands. He groaned, pulling her flush against him.

His lips trailed down to her jaw, then her neck. "I could get used to this," he murmured against her skin.

Evelyn sighed in pleasure, but when his hand skimmed her thigh, she placed her palm over it, stopping him.

"Damian… we have to wait," she whispered.

His jaw clenched, eyes dark with frustration, but also understanding. He nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I know. And I will." His voice was thick with restraint. "Because I love you."

Evelyn smiled, cupping his face. "I love you too."

He kissed her again, slower this time, savoring every second. But it wasn't easy—especially when she was in those tiny shorts that barely covered her, her full curves pressing against him, her breasts teasingly close to spilling from her loose top.

Damian closed his eyes and exhaled. Patience.

Instead of going further, he focused on what he could do. His lips found her shoulder, then her collarbone. He kissed her skin—soft, warm, perfect.

Evelyn giggled, sensing his struggle. "You're really trying, huh?"

He groaned, burying his face in her neck. "You have no idea."

And for the first time in weeks, Damian felt at peace.

A New Plan, A New Beginning

The sun was already setting by the time Evelyn and Damian finally pulled themselves away from each other. They had spent the entire day wrapped in each other's presence—talking, laughing, and, most importantly, healing.

"I'm sorry," Damian said softly, his fingers brushing through her hair as they lay tangled on the couch. "For the things I said that day… I didn't mean them."

Evelyn sighed, resting her head against his chest. "I know. I said hurtful things too. I was just scared, Damian. Scared that we would lose to the stalker again. That history would repeat itself."

Damian tightened his grip around her. "It won't. I won't let it."

She looked up at him, searching his face. "We need to catch him, but we can't use the same plan. He already knows what we tried last time."

Damian nodded, his expression hardening. "Yeah, we need something new. Something he won't see coming."

Evelyn thought for a moment, then sat up, determination flashing in her eyes. "We've been playing defense this whole time—waiting for him to come to me. But what if, this time, we make him think he has the upper hand?"

Damian's brows furrowed. "Go on."

She took a deep breath. "Instead of luring him out by acting vulnerable like last time, we need to make him believe that I'm alone and defenseless—but in a way that feels real to him. He needs to think I've dropped my guard."

Damian clenched his jaw. "You're suggesting we give him an opportunity to attack."

Evelyn nodded. "Yes, but on our terms. This time, we control the setting, the timing, everything. If he believes I'm alone, he won't be able to resist."

Damian was quiet for a moment, deep in thought. Then, a slow, dark smirk spread across his lips. "You're right. He won't be able to resist. And when he comes for you… he won't be walking away this time."

Evelyn met his gaze, her heart pounding. "We end this, Damian. For good."

He reached for her, pulling her into his arms. "Together."

Their love had survived the past, the pain, and the distance between them. Now, it was time to fight—not just for each other, but for their future. And this time, they wouldn't fail.

The Final Hunt

Evelyn sat alone in her dimly lit apartment, her hands trembling slightly as she waited. The plan was in motion, and soon, the man who had tormented her for so long would walk through that door.

And right on cue, the lock clicked.

The door swung open, and there he was—the stalker, standing in the doorway with a twisted grin. He held up a pack of condoms and smirked.

"This is what we're using tonight."

Evelyn's stomach twisted in disgust, but she forced herself to act. Her eyes widened in fear, and she stumbled back as if she hadn't seen it coming. "No… please…" she whispered, her voice shaking.

The stalker laughed darkly, stepping inside and locking the door behind him. "Oh, Evelyn, you should've known you can't run from me. You were always meant to be mine."

Outside, officers disguised as beggars, civilians, and cleaners stood ready. Inside, Damian was hiding in the wardrobe, fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. He had to wait—wait for the right moment. He wouldn't fumble like last time.

The stalker lunged, grabbing Evelyn's wrist and yanking her toward him. She struggled, using every ounce of her strength to push him away. His grip was bruising, but she fought, kicking, shoving, twisting out of his hold.

"Stop fighting it, Evelyn," he growled, shoving her onto the couch. He forced her legs apart, his hands pinning her down.

She screamed, struggling desperately. "Damian!"

In an instant, the wardrobe door burst open, and Damian lunged. He tackled the stalker, punching him with all his strength. "You sick bastard!"

The stalker groaned but managed to push Damian off before scrambling to his feet and bolting for the door.

"Go after him!" Damian shouted, and the officers outside sprang into action, chasing him as he ran into the streets.

But the stalker was fast—too fast. He weaved through alleys, jumping over fences, dodging the officers and disappearing into the woods.

Damian and Evelyn pursued him, determination burning in their veins. They wouldn't let him escape. Not this time.

As they ran deeper into the forest, Evelyn suddenly stopped, panting. "Damian… I need to ease myself," she lied.

Damian hesitated, eyes narrowing. "Are you sure?"

She nodded quickly. "Just go. I'll catch up."

Reluctantly, he left her behind and continued after the stalker. But as soon as he was out of sight, Evelyn sprinted in a different direction, following the stalker's footprints.

She found him waiting in a clearing, his chest heaving. He turned, his eyes dark with something unreadable.

"I knew you'd come alone," he whispered.

Evelyn clenched her fists. "It ends tonight."

The stalker smiled. "You still don't understand, do you? We were destined to be together. Damian was never supposed to have you."

She scoffed. "Destiny? You're insane."

"If you marry him, one of you will die," the stalker said, tilting his head. "Or maybe even both of you. You can't win against fate, Evelyn. You belong to me."

Evelyn's eyes burned with fury. "I don't belong to anyone."

She lunged at him, but before she could land a blow, he pulled out a knife and slashed at her. The blade sliced into her hand, and pain shot through her arm, but she didn't stop. Blood dripped from her fingers as she kept going, her eyes locked onto his.

The stalker cursed and ran, but Evelyn chased him. Even with her injury, even with exhaustion creeping into her bones, she refused to stop.

They ran until they reached a strange house—one made of mud, standing eerily alone in the middle of the woods.

The stalker darted inside, and Evelyn followed without hesitation. But the moment she stepped in, she froze.

The walls were covered in pictures of her. Some were old, from her past life, while others were recent. Across every photo, he had written the word MINE in bold, black ink.

Her breath hitched when she saw a different set of photos—ones of Damian. But unlike hers, these had the words REST IN PEACE scrawled over them.

Her stomach dropped.

"Do you see now?" the stalker whispered from the shadows. "Damian was never meant to live. He was meant to die, and you were meant to love me."

Evelyn clenched her jaw, her entire body trembling with rage. "You'll never have me."

The stalker lunged at her again, but before he could strike, a gunshot echoed through the house.

The door burst open, and Damian stormed in, his gun aimed directly at the stalker's head. "Step away from her."

For the first time, the stalker looked afraid.

Evelyn swayed on her feet, the blood loss catching up to her. Her vision blurred as she staggered toward Damian.

"Evelyn—"

Her legs gave out, and before she could hit the ground, Damian caught her in his arms.

"No, no, no," he muttered, shaking her gently. "Stay with me, baby. Please."

But she was too exhausted. Her eyelids fluttered shut as she passed out in his embrace.

Damian lifted her, his heart pounding in his chest. "Get the medics! Now!" he shouted at the officers outside.

As he carried her away from that cursed house, he made a silent vow.

This nightmare would end. And no matter what it took, he would make sure Evelyn was safe. Forever.