He Missed the Funeral... For Her - Chapter 11: Chapter 11
You are reading He Missed the Funeral... For Her, Chapter 11: Chapter 11. Read more chapters of He Missed the Funeral... For Her.
After grabbing breakfast at a café, I headed to the hospital. As I passed by Damon's department, he spotted me immediately and came rushing out.
"How was the breakfast I made?" he asked eagerly. "I spent hours watching cooking tutorials just to—"
I brushed past him without a word. His expression darkened when he realized I wasn't going to respond.
He caught up and grabbed my arm, but I spun around to face him. "Save it, Damon. It's pointless."
My voice stayed steady despite the storm inside me. "When I needed you? You were with Carol. When my father died? You were with Carol. When I was planning his funeral? Carol again. And even this morning, when you supposedly wanted to make things right, you still ran off to see her halfway through." I took a sharp breath. "If you couldn't be there when it mattered, just do us both a favor and stay out of my life now."
Before he could respond, I turned on my heel and walked away, leaving him rooted to the spot, mouth slightly open.
Damon looked completely thrown. In his mind, he'd done nothing wrong. Even with divorce papers coming, he still clung to the idea that he loved me—completely baffled why I'd want out.
What I saw as inappropriate closeness with Carol, he considered perfectly normal. I was too exhausted to explain anymore—some people choose willful blindness, and no amount of reasoning can change that.
Damon stumbled back to his office like a zombie. The moment he entered, the department chatter died down—then the whispers started.
"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?" a female colleague smirked, eyeing his disheveled appearance.
Damon shot her a venomous look.
"Don't give me that," she continued, unfazed. "I'm just saying what everyone's thinking. Any woman would lose it seeing her husband glued to another woman like you are with Carol."
"That's not—" Damon started, but she cut him off.
"Please. You two might as well share a desk and a last name. Honestly, Ashley's a saint for putting up with it this long. If my husband pulled that crap? Papers served, same day delivery." She crossed her arms. "If Carol's who you really want, do everyone a favor and let Ashley go. Stop stringing along an amazing woman while you play house with your 'work wife.'"
Damon's hands shook slightly. "I don't have feelings for Carol!"
The woman barked out a laugh. "Could've fooled the entire hospital. You skipped your own father-in-law's funeral to be with her, but sure—totally platonic."
Her words landed like a physical blow, each one driving deeper than the last.
"How was the breakfast I made?" he asked eagerly. "I spent hours watching cooking tutorials just to—"
I brushed past him without a word. His expression darkened when he realized I wasn't going to respond.
He caught up and grabbed my arm, but I spun around to face him. "Save it, Damon. It's pointless."
My voice stayed steady despite the storm inside me. "When I needed you? You were with Carol. When my father died? You were with Carol. When I was planning his funeral? Carol again. And even this morning, when you supposedly wanted to make things right, you still ran off to see her halfway through." I took a sharp breath. "If you couldn't be there when it mattered, just do us both a favor and stay out of my life now."
Before he could respond, I turned on my heel and walked away, leaving him rooted to the spot, mouth slightly open.
Damon looked completely thrown. In his mind, he'd done nothing wrong. Even with divorce papers coming, he still clung to the idea that he loved me—completely baffled why I'd want out.
What I saw as inappropriate closeness with Carol, he considered perfectly normal. I was too exhausted to explain anymore—some people choose willful blindness, and no amount of reasoning can change that.
Damon stumbled back to his office like a zombie. The moment he entered, the department chatter died down—then the whispers started.
"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?" a female colleague smirked, eyeing his disheveled appearance.
Damon shot her a venomous look.
"Don't give me that," she continued, unfazed. "I'm just saying what everyone's thinking. Any woman would lose it seeing her husband glued to another woman like you are with Carol."
"That's not—" Damon started, but she cut him off.
"Please. You two might as well share a desk and a last name. Honestly, Ashley's a saint for putting up with it this long. If my husband pulled that crap? Papers served, same day delivery." She crossed her arms. "If Carol's who you really want, do everyone a favor and let Ashley go. Stop stringing along an amazing woman while you play house with your 'work wife.'"
Damon's hands shook slightly. "I don't have feelings for Carol!"
The woman barked out a laugh. "Could've fooled the entire hospital. You skipped your own father-in-law's funeral to be with her, but sure—totally platonic."
Her words landed like a physical blow, each one driving deeper than the last.
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