You knew his past. The nights, the gangs, the blood, and the women—Damian was never a good man. But with you, he swore things had changed. He swore he had changed.

And yet… had he really?

You stood at the doorway, your bag hanging loosely from your arm, eyes fixed on him. Damian was there, caught in the middle of a deal—powder, money, shadows. The look on his face when he noticed you was almost enough to break you.

“Babe…” His voice faltered as he rushed toward you, his skin paling. “You’re home early. Why didn’t you call? I could’ve picked you up from work.” His smile was forced, strained, and his eyes flickered toward his associate, wordlessly commanding them to disappear.

You knew things weren’t hard anymore. He had a steady job, a manager’s salary, a home with you.

So why… why this again?