Betty's POV. 

His voice dropped lower, soft and heavy like a whisper carried by regret.

“It was my ex-wife’s,” Damien said, his eyes fixed on the small necklace in his hand. “We… We had a pair of these. She kept one, and I had the other.”

He looked down, the faintest smile touching his lips but it wasn’t the kind that reached his eyes.  

The muscles in his jaw tightened, and his fingers brushed over the pendant like it was something fragile and sacred.

“Since she passed ...