I lean against the wall.
"But you're here now. And Scott's gone. So maybe we figure out what comes next."
"I'd like that. Even if all it is occasional conversations. That's more than I deserve."
"What you deserve isn't the point. The point is figuring out where to go from here."
He nods. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"The Rolling Stone interview mentioned rough years. Are you good now?"
The genuine concern catches me off guard.
"Yeah. I'm good now. Wasn't always. But I got help. Did thework. Built this place as proof I could create something instead of destroying it."
"I'm proud of you," he says quietly. "I know I have no right to be, but I am."
I don't know what to say, so I just nod.
Dom looks at the time and I realise that two hours has passed since he got here.
“I should go. I've taken up enough of your time. But thank you. For listening."
"Wait." I pull out my phone. "Give me your number."
He rattles it off. I save it under Dom Torres.
"I'm not making promises about what this becomes or how often we talk. I've got a lot going on, and I need to figure my own shit out before I can figure out this."
"I understand. Whatever you're willing to give, whenever you're ready. That's enough."
We walk to the entrance together. He pauses, looking back at the building.
"Meridian. That's a good name."
"Thanks."
"Maybe sometime you'll tell me why you chose it."
“Yeah.”
"Your mom," he smiles sadly. "Is she doing okay?"
I walk over and hold out my hand.
"Stick around long enough and you'll see for yourself."
He shakes it, his grip firm. A promise he intends to keep.
After he leaves, I stand there for a long time, just processing.
My phone goes off in my pocket.
Nora
Thank you again.
