Where Darkness Learned Breath by Rylor Dusk 138

138 Chapter 138: The Confrontation 

Damien pov 1 

“We do,” I agreed. “And Aria? I know you don’t have to say it back and that’s okay. I don’t 

say it until you’re ready” 

need you to say 

“Damien.” She cut me off. “In that warehouse, when Marcus had the gun to my head, you know what I thought?” 

“What?” 

“That I couldn’t die without telling you the truth.” Her eyes were wet. “That I love you. I’m in love with you. Completely, terrifyingly, all–in love with you and I have been for months now, infact i never stopped loving you even after you hurt me I just used my anger to mask it all.” 

My breath caught. “You” 

“I love you,” she repeated, smiling through tears. “I love the man you’ve become, the father you are. The partner you’ve proven yourself to be. I love your terrible sense of humor and your obsessive spreadsheets and the way you make pancakes shaped like dinosaurs even though they always turn out looking like blobs. I love.” 

I kissed her again, deeper this time, pouring years of longing and loss and love into it.”Ow,” she gasped when we broke apart. “Ribs.” 

“Sorry.” But I was grinning like an idiot. “You love me.” 

“I love you,” she confirmed. “Don’t let it go to your head.” 

“Too late.” I kissed her forehead, her cheeks, anywhere I could reach. “Way too late.” 

“You two are disgusting,” Olivia said from the front, but she was smiling. “Also, we’re at the hospital. Try to keep the making out to a minimum while I check your girlfriend’s possibly fractured ribs.” 

“Fiancée,” I corrected. “She’s my fiancée.” 

“Right.” Olivia rolled her eyes. “Your fiancée who just took a bullet and needs medical attention. Can you be madly in love after I make sure she’s not internally bleeding?” 

“Fine.” I helped Aria out of the ambulance, keeping my arm around her waist. “But for the record, I’m not stopping being madly in love. That’s permanent now.” 

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138 Chapter 138: The Confrontation 

“Good,” Aria said, leaning against me. “Because I’m not stopping either.” 

As we walked into the hospital–battered, exhausted, but together–I felt something I hadn’t felt in years: Hope. Real, genuine hope that we could build something lasting. That the Blackwood curse could be broken. That love could actually win. 

Behind us, another ambulance arrived carrying Vivian. Ahead of us, Noah was safe at the lake house, waiting for his parents to come home. 

And beside me, Aria–brave, brilliant, beautiful Aria–who’d chosen mercy over revenge and saved us all in the process. “Damien?” she said quietly as we waited for the doctor. 

“Yeah?” 

“Thank you.” 

“For what?” 

“For coming after me. For not listening when I said to stay away. For” Her voice cracked. “For loving me enough to fight for us.” 

“Always,” I promised. “I’ll always fight for us. For you. For our family.” 

“Our family,” she echoed, smiling. “I like the sound of that.” 

“Me too.” I kissed her hand. “Me too.” 

Aria’s POV 

The hospital room was quiet except for the steady beep of monitors and the sound of Damien’s breathing as he dozed in the chair beside my bed. It was 4 AM. My ribs were taped, painkillers flowing through my IV, and I should have been sleeping. 

Instead, I was staring at the ceiling, replaying Marcus’s words in the warehouse. 

“I was seven years old when Father broke my arm because I cried. Seven. And where was Damien? Standing beside Father, learning to be just like him.” 

I’d known Richard Blackwood was cruel. Damien had told me bits and pieces about his childhood. But hearing Marcus describe it–the beatings, the starvation, being locked in basements–it painted a picture I hadn’t fully understood. 

Damien hadn’t just been emotionally neglected. He’d been systematically broken. Taught that love was weakness, that compassion was failure, that survival meant becoming a monster. 

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138 Chapter 138: The Confrontation 

“You’re thinking too loud.” Damien’s voice was rough with sleep. “I can hear your brain working from here.” 

“Sorry.” I turned my head to look at him. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“I wasn’t really sleeping.” He sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Every time I close my eyes, I see Marcus pointing that gun at you.” 

“I’m fine.” I reached for his hand. “The vest worked. Just some bruised ribs.” 

“You threw yourself in front of a bullet, Aria.” His voice was strained. “For Vivian. After everything she did to you.” 

“She’s still my sister.” 

“I know.” He brought my hand to his lips. “It’s one of the things I love about you. Your capacity for forgiveness. For mercy. Even when people don’t deserve it.” 

“Marcus didn’t deserve what happened to him either,” I said quietly. “What your father did–Damien, that was torture. Child abuse of the worst kind.” 

His jaw tightened. “I know.” 

“Do you?” I squeezed his hand. “Because I don’t think you’ve ever really processed it. What was done to you. What you witnessed being done to Marcus.” 

“There’s nothing to process.” His voice was flat. “It happened. I survived. End of story.” 

“That’s not the end though.” I struggled to sit up, wincing at the pain in my ribs. “Damien, you were a victim too. A child who was taught that showing emotion meant punishment, that caring about people made you weak. You didn’t become cold because you wanted to–you became cold because it was the only way to survive your father.” 

“And Marcus didn’t survive.” Damien stood, pacing to the window. “He broke, Became something twisted and violent. So which of us is the victim, Aria? Me, who adapted and succeeded? Or him, who let the trauma destroy him?” 

“Both of you.” I kept my voice gentle. “You’re both victims. You just responded differently. You learned to suppress everything. He learned to weaponize his rage. Neither response is healthy, but both are understandable given what you endured.” 

Damien was quiet for a long moment, staring out at the city lights. 

“I know you were a child,” I said softly. “You were protecting yourself.” 

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138 Chapter 138: The Confrontation 

“I was a coward.” He turned to face me. “Marcus was right. I stepped over him. Ignored his pain. Chose my own survival over helping my brother. And now-” His voice cracked. “Now he’s so broken he tried to kill the woman I love to hurt me. That’s my legacy, Aria. The Blackwood curse.” 

“No.” I pushed through the pain to get out of bed, moving to him. “Your legacy is Noah. A happy, healthy child who knows he’s loved unconditionally. Who’s never been hit or starved or locked in a basement. You broke the curse, Damien. You chose to be different.” 

“Only because of you.” His hands cupped my face. “Before you, before Noah, I was becoming my father. Cold, calculating, using people. You saved me from that.” 

“We saved each other.” I leaned into his touch. “And maybe—maybe we can help save 

Marcus too.” 

“He kidnapped Vivian. Threatened to kill you. Terrorized our family for months.” Damien’s expression was conflicted. “How do we just forgive that?” 

“The same way I forgave you.” I met his eyes. “By understanding that hurt people hurt people. By recognizing that Marcus needs help, not just punishment. By choosing mercy even when revenge feels more satisfying.” 

“You’re too good for this world,” he murmured. 

“I’m not good. I’m just tired of the cycle.” I rested my forehead against his chest. “Your father hurt you and Marcus. Marcus tried to hurt us. If we destroy Marcus completely, what message does that send? That the Blackwoods solve problems through cruelty? Or that we’re finally breaking free?” 

Before Damien could respond, a knock interrupted us. Detective Barnes entered, looking exhausted.”Sorry to interrupt,” she said. “But I need to brief you on Marcus’s arrest and Vivian’s status.” 

“Of course.” I moved back to the bed carefully while Damien pulled up chairs. 

“Marcus is in custody, charged with kidnapping, attempted murder, assault with a deadly weapon, and conspiracy.” Barnes consulted her notes. “He’s refusing to 

cooperate with interrogation, but we have enough evidence to prosecute. He’s looking at twenty to thirty years.” 

“And Vivian?” I asked. 

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“Physically, she’s fine. Some bruising, dehydration, but nothing permanent. 

Psychologically” Barnes paused. “She’s pretty shaken. Keeps asking if you’re okay.” 

“Can I see her?” 

Barnes exchanged glances with Damien. “Are you sure that’s wise? Given your history.” 

“I’m sure.” I looked at Damien. 

“I’ll arrange it,” Barnes said. “But Ms. Monroe, regarding the plea deal you negotiated- given that Vivian was kidnapped before she could fulfill her end, we’re willing to honor the terms if she cooperates fully from here.” 

“Good.” Relief flooded through me. “She deserves that chance.” 

After Barnes left, Damien studied me carefully. “You really are going to forgive her, 

aren’t you? Completely.” 

“I’m going to try.” I reached for his hand. “Not for her sake. For mine. Because holding onto anger was poisoning me, Damien. Making me into someone I didn’t recognize. And I-” My voice cracked. “I want to be better than that. For Noah. For you. For myself.” 

“Then I’m with you.” He squeezed my hand. “Whatever you decide about Vivian, about Marcus, about all of it–I support you. Even when I think you’re being too merciful.” 

“Thank you.” I kissed him gently. “Now go check on Noah. Richards sent photos, but I know you need to see him with your own eyes to believe he’s safe.” 

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