“Romeo already took him home,” Milly explains. “They left through the back.”
Dom’s hands curl into fists at his sides. “So it was Con who hurt you before.” It’s not a question.
I can’t meet his eyes, can’t bear to see the anger there. He takes my arm gently, leading me outside to his car.
The drive home is silent except for my occasional sob. I curl into myself in the passenger seat, feeling Dom’s gaze flick to me every few seconds.
Inside the house, Dom guides me to the living room couch. “Are you hurt anywhere?” His voice is softer now, careful. I hate how nice he is when I’ve just set him up.
I shake my head, though my whole body trembles.
“Let me look at you.” He kneels in front of me, examining my arms, my face.
“Please don’t go after him,” I whisper. “Just...stay here.”
Something shifts in his expression. He sits beside me, and I lean into him, my head resting on his lap. His fingers thread through my hair, the gentle motion soothing my ragged nerves.
“I’ve got you, piccola,” he murmurs as my eyes grow heavy. “You’re safe now.”
10
Caleb
I stand at thekitchen counter, mechanically stirring pancake batter when Poppy bursts through the door, her phone clutched to her chest.
“Dad! Dad! I got in!” Her squeal pierces the morning quiet. “Juilliard! They want me!”
My heart simultaneously soars and sinks. “That’s amazing, sweetheart.” I force brightness into my voice, setting down the bowl to catch her as she launches herself at me.
“Can you believe it? New York, Dad!” She’s practically vibrating with excitement against my chest.
I kiss the top of her head, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo.
My heart drops into my stomach.
Soon she’ll be gone, and my house will be empty. Just like when her mother died. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you, Dad. This is my dream.”
“I know, sweetheart. Have you told Amara yet?” I ask, returning to the pancakes to hide the tears threatening to spill.
“No, I just read the email.” Poppy hops onto the counter, swinging her legs. “We should go see her. Take her flowers or something. After yesterday she must be scared.”
My chest tightens at the mere thought of Amara. Every time I think we’re getting somewhere, she pulls away. “That’s thoughtful. We can stop at Rosita’s on the way.”
At the florist, Poppy picks out a bright bouquet of sunflowers and daisies. “These’ll cheer her up.”
When we arrive at Dom’s, Amara answers the door wearing an oversized sweater despite the heat. Dark circles ring her eyes.
“I got into Juilliard,” Poppy says, but with a little less gusto than earlier.
“Congratulations!” Amara hugs Poppy, but I notice how she winces at the contact. “I should be buying you flowers.”
“I wanted to make you smile,” Poppy says. “And Dad thought you’d like these.”
Her eyes connect with mine.
“The flowers are gorgeous.” But her smile doesn’t reach those eyes as she takes them from me. Our fingers brush and she flinches.
