The ride back to the new and unfamiliar house was long and painful. As I held the steering tightly, my knuckles turned white because of the pressure.

I had cried so much until my tears had become nothing but a crusty mask. But one thing I knew was that I should never feel shattered again. I had to contain my emotions and face my life squarely.

Damien meant business. He wanted to ruin me, and he had done excellently well so far. Now, he had chipped into my professional life, but I had to face it and protect whatever professional status I had left.

My so-called secondary duties started the following day. My dressing changed from the usual designer clothes I wore to work to regular nurse's clothes. Not even a high-profile nurse, but a mere and ordinary nurse outfit.

By 7 AM sharp, I arrived at the mansion. I had deliberately under-dressed so that I will buttress my position in that house as medical professional, and not any form of socialite nor a humiliated heiress by Damien.

For the first couple of days, I merely followed routine. All I had to do was check Mr. Davis' vitals, give him medications and assist him with physiotherapy. Also, I needed to keep account of everything.

Even if Mr. Davis had a stroke, there was one part of him that ws not affected by the stroke, and that was his ego. He was difficult and unrealistically demanding.

He was always dismissive with me; he often referred to me as ''the quick hire,'' or ''the Landon girl.'' He complained that the original furniture in the mansion was too stiff. He complained that there was no fresh champagne around, and that I didn't pour his morning tea correctly.

Mr. Davis carefully complained about everything my family was related to in the past, concentrating on their failure. Every time I had to smile at Mr. Davis, it cemented Damien's torment which he had carefully planned for long.

Damien's fiancee, Lisa, was not to be left out in the issue of tormenting me. She was as consistent as Mr. Davis, her father. It's not as if Lisa was always in her father's wing of the house, but whenever she came, it was at exactly a time that I was the least patient.

I was trying to adjust the cuff of Mr. Davis' blood pressure one afternoon as it was malfunctioning.

''Dr. Landon, are you having any trouble?'' Lisa asked as she leaned against the door frame. I noticed from the way she held her phone, that she was filming me.

''Maybe you need a manual, or you should get a better degree since this looks complicated for you,'' Lisa said, and then she added, ''did your father not donate so much to the university so that you will pass?''

I took a slow and deep breath as I raised my eyes to look at Lisa. My eyes met hers for the first time since she came in and started talking. My eyes were sturdy, I made sure not to flinch.

''Miss Davis, this particular cuff has an error,'' I stated clamly as I removed the device. ''I want to get another one to replace it from the supply closet. If you don't mind, please excuse me, as my patient needs continuous monitoring.''

After I said that, with my head held high, I walked passed her. The fact that I was able to respond professionally to Lisa, without engaging her cruel conversation, made me feel like I had a small win. If I wanted to retain my sanity, I had better not engage her. I had to shield myself by being undeniably competent.

However, I was always thoroughly exhausted. I shuttled between the hospital, where I maintained my professional aura curated intentionally, and the mansion where I carried out my duties filled with humiliation and dismissal. In the whole day, I only slept for four hours.

Whenever I returned home, I was not spared at all. My parents watched me with eagle eyes, hoping that I put their plans into action since they/we, all now lived in an apartment, smaller than the smallest room in our former mansion where Damien's father-in-law received treatment from me.

Every evening when I returned home, my mother was was busy re-arranging the house angrily, would ask me; ''did you talk to him today?''

''What of the new dress I bought you, did you wear it? Mira, you need to remind him of how both of you were and what he is losing by not being with you. Seduce him! That's the only way we have out of living on your meager salary, and that miserable retirement fund that was given to your father.

Ask for my father, he was now a shadow of himself. He was always pacing the room. A man who used to be a powerful CEO, head of a prestigious company, now had a look of defeat on his face. He was always angry.

One night, he said to me without looking at me; ''your mother is correct. Use the tools we gave you to get the company back. We did not raise you to be a nurse. We did not!''

They were hypocrites. These same people had destroyed my relationship with Damien seven years ago; they said he was not good enough for me, but now they wanted me to do magic. They wanted me to use the bond they broke to save them.

''Mother, I am not a whore. I am a doctor,'' I spat back at her. My voice was a low growl, dangerous and determined. ''I am there to take care of a patient with stroke, and not to start a dating service. You can earn your company back via other means if you want it back. Don't use me.''

There was silence between us. My mother resented me at that moment, and the feeling was usual. I resented her as well. I knew that I had to escape everyone. My parents and this new and small house, as well as the mansion. I had to free myself.

From the safety box where I kept my most prized belongings, I took out my diary. Inside that diary, there was a picture of Damien and I standing outside the gate of my old house. We were laughing together, carefree and in love, and we were just teenagers.

Impulsively, I used my forefinger to follow the outline of Damien's jaw. Everything came floating back. The loyalty his gaze always assured me of was unwavering, right before I crushed him; I crushed us.

I felt so guilty as I compared that young and innocent boy to the cold man who was threatening my existence at this point.