But, as I blinked properly awake for the first time in days, I realised that was exactly what I’d done.
I sat up slowly, marvelling at how clear my head felt. If it weren’t for the lingering ache in my muscles, I might have thought nothing had happened.
My gaze immediately fell on Dominic. He was sprawled across the chair that lived in the corner of my bedroom. It was never normally used for sitting on, given it usually had at least three loads of clean washing waiting to be put away on it.
There was no sign of the laundry now. The chair wasn’t big enough for Dom’s long limbs and wide frame, but he hadn’t let that stop him. His head was reclined against the high back, his arms hanging limp over the sides. His jaw, covered in more scruff than I’d seen on him before, hung loose as he snored lightly.
I used the opportunity to study him. Even in sleep, hedidn’t seem relaxed. Deep lines were carved into his forehead, and his fingers twitching reflexively.
Had he been here this whole time?
I had no idea how long I’d been out of it for. My hand went to my chin, finding a few days’ worth of growth there.
My bladder refused to be ignored any longer. Getting to my feet, I was relieved to find I wasn’t wobbly. Looked like the worst of it had passed.
And Dom was here for all of it.
I didn’t let myself think about that as I used the toilet. My resolve wasn’t helped by another flicker of memory. One where Dominic had held me still while I relieved myself, quietly tucking me back into bed after.
I groaned internally.Please don’t let that have happened.
It wouldn’t matter if it had, I told myself as I shuffled out of the bathroom. It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d seen my dick.
First time in over a decade and you were too sick to even enjoy it.
I scowled before immediately berating myself. I wasn’t supposed to be mad about shit like that. I had a fiancée.
Entering the living room, I came to an abrupt halt. I rubbed my eyes once. Twice. But it changed nothing.
My flat was sparkling.
Not just tidy, butclean. Someone had spent hours scrubbing my place from top to bottom.
Not someone.
Dominic.
Why had he done that?
Taking a steadying breath, I made my way to the kitchen to find it had been given the same treatment. My jaw tensed as I filled the kettle, the sense of unease growing as I opened the fridge to grab the milk.
Only to find it full to the brim with food.
Several neatly stacked tubs on the top shelf caught my eye, and I pulled one out and peered at the label on the lid.Chicken Tikka Masala.
Despite the years that had passed, I recognised Dom’s handwriting immediately. I cracked open the lid and was hit with an aroma of spices that had my mouth watering.
Since when does Dominic cook?
I silently went through each tub. Risotto. Stew. Lasagna. Chilli. Bolognese. So many different dishes, and all I had to do was heat them up.
I flashed back to the meals I used to prepare, knowing Dom would be joining us. Was this his way of repaying me? Or was it simpler than that? Had he taken one look at my empty fridge and decided to…take care of me?
I closed the door on the food and that question. It was too dangerous to examine for long.
The kettle came to the boil and I filled two mugs. I paused over the sugar pot. How did Dom take his tea now? Fuck, I hated that I didn’t know.
You could. He’ll tell you anything you want to know.
