One -Minute CH 22

Damon’s POV

I stood at Miranda’s doorstep, my fingers drumming impatiently on the cold metal of the handle. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this anxious about seeing her.

I had been a jerk, and I knew it. The way I’d acted over the phone, harsh, cold, and downright insensitive, wasn’t how I should’ve treated her. Not after everything. But even as I stood there, I didn’t know how to apologize, or even if she’d let me.

I knew she was home. I could see the faint glow from inside through the curtains, a dim light suggesting she was probably waiting, or at least listening.

When the maid opened the door, I offered her a polite smile, but it was clear my nervous energy was betraying me.

“Miss Miranda isn’t seeing anyone today,” the maid said flatly, as if it was the most mundane piece of news to deliver.

I didn’t let the disappointment show on my face, though inside I was already cursing myself. I should’ve expected it. She was angry with me, and why wouldn’t she be? I had been a total ass.

“Tell her I have something for her,” I said, my voice steady despite the nerves making my palms sweat. “It’s something she left at my place.”

The maid raised an eyebrow but said nothing as she turned to go inside. I let out a deep breath, watching her retreating form, before I added, almost as an afterthought, “Tell her it’s her underwear.”

There was a long pause before the maid finally nodded and disappeared into the house.

I leaned against the doorframe, trying to hide the grin that was threatening to break through. I knew Miranda. That mention would make her come out.

I didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later, the door swung open, and there she was, looking every bit as gorgeous and frustrating as she always did.

She glared at me, her eyes sharp, and I could practically feel the tension radiating from her. But I couldn’t stop myself from laughing when I saw her expression.

“You think this is funny?” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. Her posture was defensive, but I could see the way her eyes darted down to my hands, where I held the small bundle of fabric.

I nodded, not even bothering to hide my grin. “You forgot this at my place.”

Her cheeks flushed immediately, and I knew that I’d hit a nerve. She marched over to me, her steps quick and angry, her jaw tight. “Give it to me, Damon.”

I handed it to her, careful not to let it fall. When she grabbed it from my hands, she nearly yanked it out of my grip. I could feel her humiliation, but something else simmered underneath it. Something softer. Maybe I could make her see that I wasn’t just a jerk.

“You could’ve just called, you know,” she muttered, barely able to meet my eyes. “There was no need for this.”

“I know,” I said, my voice softening. “I’m sorry for how I acted on the phone. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

She tossed the underwear aside, her face now a mix of embarrassment and frustration. “You think an apology is going to fix everything?”

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like the floor beneath me might give way. “No,” I admitted, my voice low. “But I do want to make it right. Can we just talk?”

She shook her head, walking toward her room without another word. I stood there, caught between wanting to chase after her and knowing I’d already messed up enough. I didn’t follow her, though. Instead, I just waited, silently hoping she’d say something.

A few moments later, she returned with her arms crossed over her chest again. Her expression was unreadable, but I could see the fire still smoldering in her eyes.

“I’m not angry,” she said, but I knew that wasn’t entirely true. “But you still need to leave, Damon.”

“Miranda…” I began, stepping closer to her. I needed to say something, anything to make her understand how much I regretted everything. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“You’re sorry, Damon?” she interrupted, her voice thick with emotion. “Do you even know what you’ve done? You don’t just call someone, belittle them, and then expect everything to be fine because you said ‘sorry.’” Her words were like daggers, each one hitting a nerve I hadn’t even realized was there.

“I know,” I said, the words barely coming out. “I messed up. But I can’t fix this if you won’t let me.”

She was quiet for a moment, and I could see the battle going on inside her, whether to forgive me, whether to push me away completely.

I wanted to reach out, to hold her, but I knew better than to force her into anything. She was already pulling away, physically and emotionally, and I didn’t want to make things worse.

“I’m not angry,” she repeated, but this time her voice trembled, betraying the lie. “I just… I don’t know what you want from me anymore, Damon. You hurt me, and you don’t get to walk in here and pretend like it’s all fine just because you’re sorry.”

I nodded slowly, my heart sinking. “I don’t want to pretend, Kayla. I just want to fix this. If you can’t forgive me, then I’ll have to live with that, but I’m not going anywhere until you hear me out.”

“I can’t just forgive you,” she said quietly, “and I don’t think I can forget what you did.” She stepped back, placing distance between us. “You need to leave now, Damon.”

I opened my mouth, ready to apologize again, but something inside me snapped. I couldn’t leave her like this. Not after everything we’d been through.

Without thinking, I moved forward, closing the space between us, and kissed her. It wasn’t forceful or angry; it was gentle, almost tentative, as if I were trying to prove that I was truly sorry for everything.

My hands cupped her face, and she didn’t pull away. She kissed me back, soft and slow, and for a moment, I felt a flicker of hope that maybe things could go back to the way they were.

When I finally pulled away, I searched her face for any sign of how she was feeling.

Her eyes were closed, her breath shallow, but I could see the anger was gone, replaced with something else. Something I couldn’t quite name yet, but I was willing to fight for it.

“Can we go out for a drink?” I asked, my voice steady despite the nerves twisting in my stomach.

She didn’t hesitate. Not even for a second.

“Yes,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but it was enough.

That was all I needed to hear.