Chapter 3Love’s Last Light

I hung up before he could say another word.

The moment my car rolled to a stop outside the property, the lights inside the house abruptly flicked off.

I marched up the front steps, only to collide right into Dominic.

A fine layer of sweat coated his forehead. He grabbed my hand and immediately started pulling me back toward the driveway.

"Didn't I tell you it's a construction zone?"

"The fumes are toxic. It's dangerous for you and the baby."

Dominic was rarely a talkative man. His sudden barrage of excuses was a glaring cover for his panic.

I violently ripped my hand from his grip and pushed past him.

"I said I just want to look."

He shifted his weight, completely blocking the doorway. His eyes darkened, pooling with a heavy, dangerous emotion.

We stood in a suffocating stalemate.

Then, he stepped forward and pulled me into a tight embrace, patting my back like a child.

"Be good. Listen to me."

My cheek was pressed against his neck, and my eyes fell on the tattoo right behind his ear.

Five years ago, a horrific car crash left me in a coma.

Dominic knelt outside the ICU for three straight days, begging whatever god was listening to spare my life.

Maybe the universe took pity on him.

I survived the critical window, but I wouldn't wake up.

The doctors warned him that if I stayed under much longer, I might be trapped in a vegetative state forever.

Desperate and losing his mind, he listened to an old superstition that said carving a loved one's name behind your ear could absorb their misfortune.

He was notoriously sensitive to pain, but he refused the numbing cream so he could get back to my bedside faster. He let the needle bite into his skin, etching my name into his flesh.

I finally woke up.

But five years had passed, and the ink had faded into a blurry grey.

Just like his love for me. Fading. Disappearing.

A tidal wave of betrayal and grief crashed over me.

I lost my mind. I started thrashing, hammering my fists against his chest, and then I sank my teeth right into his neck.

A sickeningly sweet vanilla perfume filled my nose, slicing through my heart like a serrated blade.

I didn't let go until the strong, metallic taste of his blood flooded my mouth.

I pushed him hard.

My vision was completely blurred by tears. I couldn't even see his face.

"Dominic, if you don't love me anymore."

"You can just tell me. I would leave."

He grabbed my wrists with crushing force and yanked me back against his chest, holding me so tightly it felt like he was terrified I would vanish.

Like he wanted to crush my bones into his own.

"Don't say stupid things. How could I ever stop loving you?"

Maybe he did love me.

Otherwise, why would he hide that girl away like a shameful secret?

But his love was so incredibly cheap now. It was something he could just casually slice up and serve to someone else.

Once my breathing finally leveled out, he drove me home.

On the way, we passed a boutique florist. He pulled over abruptly.

The owner was already flipping the open sign to closed, but Dominic bent down, pleading with the man.

Just like he used to do.

For every anniversary, he would cancel every single meeting.

He would burst through the door right at midnight, holding a delicate pastry and a bouquet of the most vibrant roses.

I used to cry tears of pure joy.

He would tell me how he had to beg the florist to open up, asking for a kiss as his reward.

But that girl didn't have to wait until midnight.

She just snapped her fingers and got the entirety of his devotion.

I unlocked my phone and sent a quick text to my best friend, Stella, asking her to pick me up on Wednesday.

The car door opened. Dominic handed me the bouquet, his eyes briefly flicking down to my illuminated screen.

"Who are you talking to?"

I locked the screen and took the flowers, not even bothering to look at the petals.

"Just a friend."

A suffocating silence filled the rest of the drive.

After dropping me off at the mansion, he claimed there was an emergency at the office and sped off into the night.

I ordered a cab and followed him. I watched as the darkened windows of Moonridge lit up once again.

The woman was waiting by the front steps, holding the child.

Dominic jogged over, wrapping her in a tight hug. He laced his fingers through hers.

The three of them leaned into each other, walking toward the front door.

It was the exact image I had pictured in my head a thousand times.

Me holding Dominic's left hand, our baby holding his right, walking into our forever home.