The dreams. We both had them, and we both had our own ways of dealing with them. Dom needed to be reminded that none of them were real and that what we actually had was the reality he needed to sink his fingers into and pull close. Hence, the sex, as hurried and direct as it had been, was his way of confirming that, however I had died in his dreams hadn’t been real. He hadn’t watched me burn, or bleed out from a knife in my gut, or an explosion that splattered me across the horizon. What he was watching was me crying out his name and holding tight as he rinsed the horrid images from his mind.
I had dreams too. Sometimes it was watching Dom die in front of me, sometimes it was dying and seeing Dom mourn me, sometimes it was being hunted by my dead mother, by a furious Augustine, or a horrible version of Reg or Luis coming back for vengeance. Sometimes it was him and his whole family. When those happened, I would retreat and go for a couple of hours’ walk. Out there, I could let myself relive the dreams, but I could pick them apart, seeing the flaws in the stories my horrified brain had told me, and I could remember what had actuallyhappened. Then I would come back to the house and talk to Dom, either in person or by calling him while he was out being the professional trainer he had become, and I would be...normal. It was only after we’d talked that I would tell him about what happened in the dream and let him comfort me.
We were hurt, cracked, and fractured, but we weren’t broken, not anymore. We knew how to put the pieces back together.
“I’m okay,” he said.
I smiled. “I know.”
“Are you?”
“I am. Today is a good day for me.”
“Good. I think my day can get better, though.”
“You want to go again, don’t you?”
He was grinning when he raised his head. “Yeah, but this time I want to do it in the shower, and I’m going to take my time until you’re begging for me to finish you off.”
“Caveman.”
“You love it.”
I did.
“Stop fussing with it,”I said as we pulled up to the venue, and I reached over, smacking his hand from his tie. “You’re making it worse, not fixing it.”
“I don’t want it on in the first place,” he muttered, his nose wrinkling. “Fucking monkey suit.”
“Is that even a phrase anymore?”
“I’m clearly saying it, so it must be.”
“Childish,” I said with a sigh, but smiled to show I wasn’t seriously annoyed. “Now come on, I’d like to get the shenanigans out of the way before we find a seat.”
“You haven’t learned if you think the shenanigans are going to stop just because we find our seats,” Dom said, pushing open the car door and leaning out, pausing, then reaching out. I laughed when he purposefully used his left hand to grab my left hand, making our rings clink together when he pulled me close to kiss him. It had taken less than a month for him to insist on moving in with me, another two to propose, and another three for the wedding held at his family’s hotel.
Ourfamily’s hotel.
“Sappy,” I chided, knowing I was grinning anyway as I stepped out of the car and followed him down the sidewalk toward the large building.
“As if you’re not as big a softie,” he said while rolling his eyes.
“I don’t think so,” I snorted.
“Uncle Levi!” A high-pitched shriek rang out, and I spun around.
“Right, because you didn’t just prepare to melt at that,” Dom muttered.
A blond-headed blur streaked toward me, but I was prepared as I bent down, sparing both my knee and Donovan’s head another injury, and scooped him up. “What have I told you about ambushing people?”
“Be quieter,” Donovan said with a giggle, the four-year-old covering his mouth with his hands.
“Something he fails at every time,” Dom snorted.
“Dom!” Donovan called, wriggling to get to him.
“Here,” I said, handing the kid off without hesitation.
