Dom stared at the ceiling. He looked like he wished he could pull answers out of the air. It mirrored how I felt. “You know he’s just saying that because he’s an angry, jealous man.”
“I know,” I said. I had hoped that I would sound like I believed him, but I sounded almost angry.
As always, Dom took it well. He'd been my rock for so long, reassuring and steady. If the situation were reversed, I wouldn't be so calm. He probably assumed that my anger was directed at Brandon. It was hard to admit, even to myself, that him putting so much effort into telling my friends that he would never be interested was a blow to my ego. Not only was I now single, my relationship had ended because of jealousy about one of my closest friends, who was adamant he would not be open to anything else.
For the first time in a long time, things felt awkward between us. The punch was playing through my mind on a loop. Dom was standing further away from me, well out of reach. Even when we weren’t on the ice, we would usually end up within reach of each other. It wasn't a conscious decision, but it always happened. For him to be so far away from me with his hands in his pockets, like he was closing himself off, felt like a punch in the gut.
This physical and emotional distance between us was my fault. I'd been the one who had put my trust in the wrong person. It made me feel like I was going to break. It was all too much. I looked down at the entrance mat so he wouldn’t see the tears that were blurring my vision. “I’m going to make some tea or something. Do you want anything before you go?” I didn’t want tea, but I needed an excuse to leave and do something with my hands. Dom only drank coffee, so I hoped he’d say no to my offer. Anything that would prolong this awkward goodbye sounded like a nightmare.
Of course, that wasn’t the luck I was having. “I’ll have a cup,” Dom said.
My eyes widened. I had not been expecting that. The only thing I could think to say was, “Okay.”
I made myself busy in the kitchen, purposefully keeping my back to where he was standing in the hopes that he wouldn't see how overwhelmed I was. There were a million competing thoughts in my brain, none of them good. He could feel his gaze on me as I worked, sitting on one of my kitchen chairs without a word.
While I waited for the kettle to boil, I opened my freezer and pulled out an ice pack. I carefully wrapped it in a clean tea towel, one of the soft blue and white gingham ones my grandmother had given me as a gift when I’d moved into my apartment. I walked over to Dom. “For your face,” I said, holding it up.
I’d expected him to take it, but he simply turned his head to show me the side that had been punched. “How does it look?” he asked.
The light in my kitchen wasn’t great at the best of times,s. This late at night, it left something to be desired. I leaned closer, examining his face from different angles. “It doesn’t look too bad,” I said. I grazed his cheekbone with my fingertips. I hardly dared to touch him and risk hurting him further. Despite my gentleness, he jerked away from my touch. “Does it hurt?” I asked lamely.
“Not as much as my pride.” His attempt at making a joke to make me feel better pulled at my heartstrings. I swallowed hard and extended the wrapped ice pack. Dom grasped it, resting it against his face. His shoulders dropped, releasing tension, as it made contact. He looked at me and gave me a small smile.
Suddenly, I let out a sob. I had been standing there, trying to be tough. One second I thought I was doing a good job and the next I had tears rolling down my cheeks. The smile and the twinkle in his eyes was the Dom I knew, always trying to make me smile and up for a laugh. The serious guy who hardly spokehad been unsettling. I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes and rubbed away the tears as best I could.
Dom's eyebrows furrowed. “Hazel?” He sounded like he thought I’d lost my mind.
“This is ridiculous,” I said. “I know that. But that was the first normal thing you’ve said to me since Brandon hit you. You were keeping your distance and barely talking to me, and it felt like… I don’t know. The closest thing was when we didn’t know how to talk to each other when we first met. But at least back then it was me being awkward because I was intimidated. Being the reason you’re going to get a giant bruise and why you got yelled at is so much worse.”
He tilted his head. “You thought I was being weird?” He sounded confused.
“You didn’t seem to know how to interact with me or what to say,” I said, suddenly self-conscious. The kettle had clicked off and without the noise of the water boiling, the apartment was silent.
“I thought you wanted your space. I'd assumed that you didn’t want to talk!” he said. “I was taking my cues from you.”
“That’s not what I wanted,” I said. “You just seemed so closed off that I didn’t know how to talk to you. I thought you were guarding yourself, with the space and hands in your pockets.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why would I need to guard myself from you?”
I sighed. “Now we’re just talking in circles.” I walked over to make the tea I didn't think either of us really wanted.
“Let’s change the topic then,” Dom said. When I turned around, a mug in each hand, he was smirking. “I intimidated you, did I?”
“Obviously,” I said, putting the bigger mug in front of him. I eased myself into the chair across from him. “We’ve already talked about this.”
He stood up and walked to my fridge, making himself at home. When he came back with the milk, he said, “No, I definitely would remember that. I thought you just didn’t know how to interact with a boy.”
That was part of it, admittedly. “There’s a difference between meeting somebody your age and somebody in high school. The boys I went to school with hadn't figured out that body spray is not a substitute for deodorant at that point. Meeting a cute high school boy when I was in the throes of middle school and all the shit that goes with it was intimidating.”
“You thought I was a cute, older man,” Dom teased. “I have to say, I never thought I’d hear you admit it.”
My jaw dropped and my eyes widened. I stared at him, unblinking.No, no, no,I thought in horror.
Dom laughed at my panicked expression. “Yes, I knew. You turned red every time I held your hand. You couldn’t look me in the eye for more than a few seconds at a time for weeks. I was fourteen, not stupid. It was pretty obvious what was going on.”
I groaned. “We are not going to have this conversation.” I moved my mug to the side to rest my forehead on the table. I couldn't look at him right now. The night was turning into a disaster. I never would have thought that the complicated technical skating elements would be the easiest part of my evening.
“Because of what happened at the pub?”
