Three dots indicate she’s typing more, so I pat Carl on the head, pushing him down to rest in my lap. I’m all for kisses from him, but enough is enough.
Me: and… ??
Chloe: you forgot to mention it was for SALE. how did that not come up tonight?
My stomach drops at the words. What? It didn’t come up because I didn’t KNOW. It takes me a few minutes to process my shock, although even that doesn’t calm down the rapid beating of my heart.
Me: ha, must have slipped my mind
Chloe: yeah yeah. call me tomorrow?
Me: of course
I feel a heavy weight settle in my chest as I let my phone slip to the floor. Maybe there’s an obvious explanation for this. Maybe Dom is waiting for me to ask him to move in, officially? But that doesn’t seem like something he’d do, pressure me into that step. I know how difficult it is for him, being in the house where he lived with his aunt, where he visited her almost everysummer growing up. But he hasn’t mentioned a single thought about selling it.
A terrible thought occurs to me. What if being in Prairie Ridge is too much for him now? What if… what if Dom has decided to sell the store? What if he leaves? I swallow a knot of emotion in my throat and take a few deep, shaky breaths. Dominic never intended to stay. Isn’t that what he told me months ago? Prairie Ridge was a place for him to take a break, recuperate after the loss of his business and his fiance.
What if his time with me had only ever been a pitstop– not a destination?
That’s how Dominic finds me, a few minutes later, frozen in fear and anxiety on the floor in my living room.
“Hey,” he says with a smile as he reaches a hand toward me. “How was drinks with Chloe?” I stare up at him and I know my eyes are glassy enough that he can tell something is wrong. “Babe, are you okay?”
With a disbelieving huff, I ignore his hand and force myself off the floor on my own. “It was fine. It was great, actually. Taking a mental break from the store and business side of things. An emotional break from… well.” Sniffing, I cross my hands over my chest. I almost feel bad for the glint of guilt in his eyes— but he knows damn well what I need an emotional break from.
“I understand?—”
“Until she told me Gloria’s house is up for sale.” Dominic’s eyes flash, somehow guilt now painted over his entire face. “Is that true?”
He runs a hand through his hair, a telltale sign of discomfort. “I was going to tell you tonight.”
“How convenient.” I can’t help the anger I feel, coursing through me like poison. I hate the way it’s making me feel,but I can’t help myself— is this how Dominic spent the weeks following Gloria’s death? It’s miserable, but I can’t stop.
We’ve never had a fight as a couple, not like this. I don’t think I’m ready for this.
Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I drop my defensive stance and take a step toward him. If extending an olive branch can bypass a fight, I’m willing to do it. Because I love him. Placing a hand on his chest, I can feel his heart pounding the same as mine.
“I just wish you had told me.” My fingers slide along the fabric of his soft shirt. “If you want to move in with me, we could have talked about it.”
Dominic’s brows furrow and he takes a step back from me. My hand falls to my side as I stare at him, confused. “I’m not moving in with you, Pen.”
“Oh.” A beat of silence hangs tense and heavy between us. “Did you find another place?—”
“I’m going back to Kentucky.” My heart cracks at his words. Dominic shoves his hands in his pockets, his entire body tense. Carl sits up from where he’s been lying on the floor, nudging his nose against my hand, as if he can sense me falling apart inside.
“Fuck,” Dom sighs. “I was going to talk to you tonight, I swear, Pen.”
I open my mouth to reply but no words come out. All I can do is shake my head. My vision loses all focus as tears fill my eyes.
“There are some more things I need to take care of there,” Dom continues, as if I’m not crumbling before his eyes. Am I, though? Or does it just feel that way? Can he see what’s happening to me with every word he speaks? “Christ, say something. Please.”
Clearing my throat, I pray my voice is steady as I say, “What about the bookstore?”
“I have… plans for the store.”
“Are you closing it?”
“No.”
