The words tumbled out of me before I could stop them and Dominic just stood there, in front of me, calmer than I was used to, like he had carefully rehearsed this moment. I was not sure what I expected him to say after the meeting, but it wasn’t an invitation to dinner.
“I know it’s unexpected,” he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. “But there are things we need to talk about, Samantha.”
I stared at him, feeling my irritation bubble beneath the surface. “We’ve talked enough, haven’t we?”
He exhaled through his nose, something faintly like frustration crossing his face, but he reined it in quickly. “Just one dinner. No arguments. I’ll take you back as soon as you want. I promise.”
It was not his words that swayed me, but the way he looked, like he had thought about this long and hard. Like whatever he wanted to say could not wait. And curiosity, my constant enemy, nudged at the back of my mind. “Fine,” I muttered before I could change my mind. I could always leave if it became unbearable.
The restaurant Dominic chose was just in a nearby street, but far enough from familiar faces to avoid curious stares. When I stepped inside, the muted lighting and soft hum of conversation told me he had picked it for privacy.
The host led us to a private dining room in the back. The moment the door clicked shut behind us, I tensed. It felt isolated like I could not escape if I wanted to.
Dominic moved ahead, pulling out a chair for me. “Go on.”
I stared at him for a beat longer than I needed to, my thoughts a mess. “This place is... quiet.”
“That’s why I picked it,” he replied evenly.
I sat down, watching him round the table to his own seat. The space between us was not much, but it was still enough to feel pressured. I frowned at the arrangement but nevertheless, I brushed it off.
The server appeared moments later with the menus, his professional smile lingering a little too long on Dominic. I noticed but did not comment.
“This feels excessive for one dinner,” I muttered.
Dominic shrugged, his focus on me instead of the food. “I wanted somewhere quiet. Somewhere we could actually talk.”
Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist and I could already feel the questions coming, but I forced myself to act indifferent, picking up the menu and read.
The food came unbelievably quick and was plated too perfectly for my liking, and the moment the servers left the room, the silence returned. I could feel his eyes on me as I picked at my plate, yet my appetite nowhere to be found.
“Why did you agree to this?” Dominic asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
I did not look up as I replied. “You asked.”
“No, Dominic, nothing is simple with you.” I set my fork down, meeting his gaze. “So why don’t you stop dancing around whatever this is and get to the point?”
He did not look away, and for a second, I thought I had struck a nerve. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, studying me the way he always used to, like he was trying to solve a puzzle I refused to let him see.
“How have you been?” he asked, genuinely.
The question startled me. It was not the interrogation I expected, but the sincerity of it still caught me off guard.
“Fine,” I replied curtly.
“What else do you want me to say?”
He shook his head faintly. “I don’t know. I am trying to understand what happened to you, Samantha.”
The words lingered between us, soft yet accusing.
“I don’t owe you my story,” I answered sharply, taking a sip of the wine.
“I’m not asking for the parts you’re not ready to give.” He paused. “But I can see how much you’ve changed. I need to know why.”
His words pulled at something deep inside me, a bitterness I had not tasted in years. “You don’t get to ask that. Not after—”
His quiet admission made me freeze. He was not before. He was stubborn, insistent, and would not easily admit his mistakes. Yet right now, as if he had changed, and it left me momentarily speechless.
“I know,” he repeated, eyes locked on mine. “I made mistakes, Samantha. And I am not asking you to forgive them. I just need to know... what I missed.”
I forced out a laugh, though it did not feel like one. “You missed everything, Dominic. That’s the point.”
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Then tell me.”
I stared at him, pulse quickening. Tell him? What, exactly? That I left because he had pushed me to the edge? That I had spent years trying to erase him from my life, only to have my past come crashing back into it? That there were two children with his blood?
My chest felt tight as if the air in the room became suffocating.
“You don’t want the truth,” I muttered finally. “Not really.”
Dominic’s gaze did not waver, and for a moment, I thought he might push again. But instead, he said something that made me go still.
“I am trying, Samantha. That has to count for something.”
The sincerity in his voice was almost enough to make me believe him. Almost.
Then the sound of his phone vibrating on the table broke the moment, jarring us both. Dominic glanced at the screen briefly before silencing it, his jaw tightening.
“Important?” I asked.
I did not ask why. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
We sat there for a few minutes longer with the silence stretching and twisting between us. I hated how uneasy it made me. I hated that I did not know what to do with this Dominic, the one who was not shouting orders, wasn’t dismissing me like I was nothing.
“Why now?” I asked suddenly, surprising even myself.
Dominic’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Why are you trying now? After everything that’s happened?”
He did not answer right away, and for a moment, I thought he would not at all. “Because I can’t lose you again.”
The honesty in his words hit me like a punch to the gut. I opened my mouth to respond, maybe to tell him he had lost me, that it was too late, but the sound of my phone buzzing in my bag stopped me cold.
I frowned, reaching for it automatically. Annie’s name lit up the screen.
And I knew Annie never called unless it was important.
“Excuse me,” I muttered, standing and stepping away from the table. “Annie?”
“Samantha.” Annie’s voice was tight, trembling. “The twins—”