The twenty-third week, Damien went looking for Marcus.
Not to talk.
To end things.
And Christabel was afraid of what he would become when he found him.
---
She woke to an empty bed.
The sheets were cold. Damien's side hadn't been slept in.
She found him in the study. Sitting in the dark. Staring at a photograph of Marcus.
"Damien."
He didn't turn.
"Damien, look at me."
He turned.
His eyes were different. Colder. Harder. The eyes of the man he used to be.
"I'm going to find him," he said.
"I know."
"I'm going to make him tell me why."
"I know."
"I'm going to make him pay."
She walked to him.
Knelt in front of his chair.
"Promise me something."
"What?"
"Promise me you won't become someone I don't recognize."
He touched her face.
"I don't know who I'm going to be when I find him."
"Then let me come with you."
"No."
"Damien—"
"No." His voice was firm. "This is something I have to do alone."
---
She watched him leave.
The door closed behind him.
The penthouse was silent.
Lena was still asleep.
Christabel stood in the living room, alone, wondering if her husband would come back the same man who had left.
---
The search took Damien across the city.
Marcus had gone underground. Disappeared into the shadows where people went when they didn't want to be found.
But Damien knew those shadows.
He had lived in them.
He had built his empire in them.
He would find Marcus.
It was only a matter of time.
---
Christabel spent the day at the office.
Not working. Waiting.
Sarah found her in the corner office. Staring out the window.
"He's gone," Christabel said.
"Who?"
"Damien. He went to find Marcus."
Sarah sat beside her.
"Are you afraid?"
"Yes."
"Of what?"
"Of what he'll do. Of what he'll become. Of what will happen to us when he comes back."
"He'll come back."
"How do you know?"
"Because he loves you. Because he loves Lena. Because he has something to come back to."
---
That afternoon, Christabel called Dr. Reid.
"I need to see you."
"Today?"
"As soon as possible."
---
The drive to the therapist's office was quiet.
The city was gray. The rain was falling.
Dr. Reid was waiting.
"You look scared," Dr. Reid said.
"I am scared."
"Of what?"
"Of my husband. Of what he's capable of. Of what he might do."
"Do you think he'll hurt you?"
"No."
"Do you think he'll hurt someone else?"
"Yes."
"Who?"
"The man who's been threatening our family."
---
Dr. Reid leaned forward.
"Tell me about this man."
"His name is Marcus. He was my boyfriend. Before Damien."
"He was threatening you?"
"He was threatening our family. Sending letters. Photographs. Things from Damien's past."
"And now Damien has gone to find him?"
"Yes."
"What do you think will happen when he does?"
Christabel was quiet for a moment.
"I don't know."
---
The session lasted an hour.
Christabel talked about Marcus. About Damien. About the fear that had been living in her chest since the first letter arrived.
"I love him," she said. "I love him so much. But I'm afraid of who he becomes when he's protecting us."
"That's not love," Dr. Reid said. "That's fear."
"They feel the same."
"No." Dr. Reid shook her head. "Love is wanting someone to be happy. Fear is wanting someone to be safe. They're not the same thing."
"I want both."
"Then you have to trust him."
"What if I can't?"
"Then you have to tell him."
---
That night, Christabel put Lena to bed.
Alone.
She read her daughter a story. Not a baby book. A real story. One of her favorites.
"There was a woman who was afraid of the dark," she read. "Until she realized that the dark wasn't something to be afraid of. It was just the absence of light."
Lena stared at her.
"Bah," she said.
"That's right," Christabel said. "Bah."
---
She closed the book.
Set it on the nightstand.
"Your father is out there. Looking for someone who wants to hurt us."
Lena cooed.
"I'm afraid of what he'll do when he finds him."
Lena grabbed her finger.
Held on tight.
"But I'm more afraid of what will happen if he doesn't."
---
Damien came home at midnight.
Christabel was waiting in the living room.
His hands were clean. His clothes were clean. His face was calm.
But she could see it in his eyes.
He had found Marcus.
"Did you find him?" she asked.
"Yes."
"What happened?"
He sat beside her.
Took her hands.
"I found him. I talked to him. I let him go."
"You let him go?"
"He's not the one sending the letters."
"Who is?"
"He doesn't know. Someone hired him. Someone who knew about his connection to you. Someone who wanted to use him to get to us."
"Who?"
He was quiet for a moment.
"I don't know yet. But I'm going to find out."
---
She looked at him.
His eyes were still cold. Still hard.
But there was something else there too.
Something that looked like relief.
"You didn't hurt him?"
"I wanted to."
"But you didn't."
"I didn't."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't want to become someone you wouldn't recognize."
She pulled him into her arms.
Held him tight.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For coming home. For staying yourself. For choosing me over revenge."
"I will always choose you."
---
That night, they didn't sleep.
They held each other.
Talked about Marcus. About the letters. About the person who was trying to tear them apart.
"Whoever it is," Damien said, "they know us. They know our past. They know our weaknesses."
"Then we find them."
"Together?"
"Together."
---
The next morning, another envelope.
This one was different.
Not addressed to Christabel. Not addressed to Damien.
To Lena.
Christabel opened it with shaking hands.
Inside was a photograph of their daughter.
Taken from outside the penthouse.
On the back: She's beautiful. It would be a shame if something happened to her.