"I suppose so."
"Why should I trust you?"
"Have I given you a reason to distrust me?"
"I can think of one."
"That goes both ways."
My lips are twitching with the desire to unload on him. I want to know how he could've said those things about me, been so duplicitous. I won't, because the last thing I want is for my family to overhear us. Also, I'm embarrassed to say the words out loud. Mortified it ever happened, and even more mortified at how deeply it wounded me. What I overheard Dom saying in that hallway at Obstinate Daughter should have lost its power over me as the days grew into weeks and months, but it didn't. I was too fragile, too tender.
If Dominic had behaved in some objectionable way, I could've walked away with my ego intact. But, no. It was Dominic who objected to me.
And isn't that my worst fear? That I will be myself, let down my guard, and get rejected.You make it difficult to love you.
"All right, lovebirds," my grandma calls from around the corner, tactfully announcing herself before entering the kitchen. "I think you've taken long enough to retrieve that wine."
She rounds the corner and takes us in. Our lack of flushed cheeks, our clothing in place and our hair smooth. She thought she'd be interrupting a steamy makeout session between can't-keep-their-hands-off-each-other newlyweds.
"Cecily," she starts, pointing at a cabinet. "Grab the glasses and take the wine out. None for me."
"Or me," Dom adds.
The memory of placing my face over a toilet is fresh in my mind, recent enough that I'll be declining the wine as well.
As directed, I retrieve four glasses, snag the bottle, and pause expectantly at the open doorway leading out of the kitchen.
"Go on, hon." Grandma waves me away. "I want to chat with your husband for a moment."
My gaze slides to Dom, who looks nonplussed. Does nothing bother him?
"See you out there," I say, taking one last look at my grandmother before turning away. Her expression plainly saysget out of here so I can talk to him alone.
If my expression reflects how I'm feeling on the inside, it saysPlease don't leave this world, I don't know how to be in it without you.
CHAPTER 13
Dominic
"I should issuean apology for my family, but I don't know if there is an apology big enough." Ophelia settles on a stool on the far side of the island, smiling at me kindly. An elegant bun at the nape of her neck holds her gray and white hair.
I wave off her words. "No need. Cecily and I were..." My mind trips, parsing through my vocabulary for the best fitting word that doesn't give away the truth. "...hasty.I expected nothing less than what I walked into."
This is only partially true. I'd anticipated a protective father, thundering at me for marrying his daughter. He delivered on that, but only in part. His blustering was more on his own behalf, or that of his image. He certainly wasn't taking up any swords for Cecily.
It makes me angry, but I'm trying not to show it. It would embarrass Cecily, to know I am disgruntled on her behalf.
"Still," Ophelia insists, "my son made a very poor showing. Not surprising, honestly. He hasn't been himself in years. Not since he became successful. All that pressure, I guess. Sometimes, pressure makes diamonds." She shrugs. "Other times, it crushes you. It doesn't help that his father died when hewas nineteen. He could have used his dad to help guide him in his own parenthood. I don't know that my son will ever go back to the person he used to be. And now that I'm preparing to take a dirt nap, I'll never know."
I stare at her, wide-eyed.
She points back at herself. "Savage."
A smile pulls at my lips, but I'm not sure if I should let it break out fully. It's a morbid topic, there is no place for a grin, right?
"Will you be able to join us on the road trip I've planned?"
I'm not sure I have a choice, even though I suppose I do. I could say no. I could choose not to care.
