“You know the question: the one wehaveto ask.”
Dom chuckles. “What are my intentions with Izzy?”
Grandma winks again, totally in her element. “Bingo.”
Dom looks at me, smiling tightly, a question in his eyes.Are you sure you’re okay?I turn away.
“I don’t want to rush anything,” Dom says. “But my intentions are good. I want a relationship with your granddaughter, ma’am?—”
“Maggie, please.”
“Maggie,” Dom corrects. “But, like I said, I won’t push. I won’t rush. We’ve got all the time in the world.”
Until Aaron pushes too far. Until I’m forced to make an impossible choice.
“How wonderful,” Grandma says, slumping back against her pillow like the interaction has tired her out.
“Grandma?”
She smiles weakly at me. That’s when I realize she hasn’t been magically better this entire time. She’s just able to hide it from me, for a little while at least.
“I’m just tired,” she murmurs.
“We’ll let you get some rest,” I say, leaning over and kissing her on the cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she replies. “And you, Dominic, it was lovely to meet you. Do right by my girl.”
“Grandma,” I say. “It’s early days.”
“I will, Maggie,” Dom says, pressing on her hand before standing.
We go out to the car together. Dom climbs behind the wheel, though it’s my beat-up car. We didn’t even discuss who was going to drive this morning. He just slid smoothly behind the wheel as though it were his right.
“She seems like an incredible person,” Dom says. “Fierce, protective, caring. You’re lucky to have each other.”
“I know,” I murmur, looking out the window.
Do not cry.
“I’m glad she seemed to like me,” he goes on.
Don’t you dare cry.
“S-she definitely did,” I agree, staring stubbornly at the city as it passes by, the shadows still long, the sky gray turning to yellow.
When the first tear slides down my cheek, I quickly wipe it away, hoping Dom didn’t notice. But then he pulls over the car and cups my chin, directing my gaze to his.
“We need to talk about what you saw,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.
“You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“Maybe not,” he says gruffly, seeming more like his work persona than the Dom I’m getting to know. “But you’ve clearly got the wrong idea.”
“You hid your phone,” I mutter.
He nods. “I did. It’s an instinct, one I haven’t been able to shake for many years. The thing with me, Izzy, is that I loved my father more than anyone. I looked up to him more than I’ve ever looked up to anyone. And his voice is still with me, in my head all the time.”
“Really?” I ask.
