Damian's POV

I stayed in the living room, sitting in a dark leather armchair, my eyes fixed on the front door. I was determined. Tonight, Sophie wasn't slipping away from me, no matter what time she came home. The clock crawled forward, the hours dragging on as if they were conspiring against my patience.

When it finally hit 2:03 a.m., the key turned in the lock and Sophie walked in. She looked exhausted, shoulders slumped, hair slightly disheveled.

"You're late." I stood and crossed my arms, blocking her path to the stairs. "We need to talk."

She looked at me, drained, and let out a resigned sigh.

"Damian, I'm tired. Can we talk tomorrow?" she said, already turning to go around me.

Before she could move away, I grabbed her arm.

"Tomorrow you'll run again. So tonight, you're staying right here and talking to me."

She stopped, her gaze shifting away.

"Okay. What do you want to talk about?"

I studied her closely, taking in how messy she looked. Too messy for someone w