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“Look at me,” Dom snapped.

Gavin lifted his head, eyes wide in surprise.

“You saw my messages. You knew I would be worried, and you let me stay worried because answering me was hard?” Dom held his gaze until Gavin shifted. “All I needed was to know you were safe. You could have sent me three words. You didn’t even have to talk to me. But that was too much for you.”

Lucia finished her bottle, and Gavin lifted her to his shoulder, rubbing slow circles on her back. Dom watched his hand move and hated how much he still wanted that hand on him.

“I kept telling myself I needed more time,” Gavin said. “Just until I stopped driving or got to my parents’ house. Until I could figure out what to say.”

Dom’s jaw tightened and he shook his head. “You could have told me you needed time.”

He would have hated it. It would have been absolutely awful, and he would have spent those hours wanting to call and explain, or typing messages he wouldn’t send. But he could have given Gavin time if he’d known that’s what he was asking for.

“I should have. There was no reason I couldn’t have said at least that. But I wasn’t thinking that…rationally.” Gavin drew in a shaky breath. “I was thinking about how much it hurt to see your name on my phone. I didn’t even consider what it was doing to you when mine never showed up at all.”

For a moment, Dom couldn’t speak. He wanted to demand an answer. Wanted to know how Gavin could tell him he loved him and still leave him like that. But Gavin had already told him he hadn’t been thinking about anyone except himself, and Dom didn’t know what to do with an answer that was so honest and so hurtful at the same time.

“I’m so sorry,” Gavin whispered. “You didn’t deserve any of that. If I could do it differently, I would.”

His voice faltered on the last few words, and Dom’s hand shifted against the counter before he caught himself. He wanted to touch him. That was the fucking problem. Gavin was sitting there looking wrecked, and Dom still wanted to put a hand on his cheek and feel him lean into it. He wanted the familiar weight of Gavin’s arm around him, and he wanted to just let himself be glad he’d come back.

The words it’s okay appeared so quickly on the tip of his tongue that he had to press his lips together. It wasn’t okay, and Dom couldn’t say it was just because he wanted to get to the part he knew would come after they finished talking. At least Gavin hadn’t asked him if they were all right. He was waiting, and Dom could see how hard he was trying, and that mattered. But so did every evening he’d stayed late and every meal they’d shared. It had mattered before, every time Dom had reached for him and found him there. None of that had been enough to stop him from leaving.

Dom rubbed his palms over his thighs. He believed Gavin was sorry. He wanted to get past this and move forward with him so badly that it was terrifying how little persuasion it might take. But he wasn’t there yet.

“I want to believe you won’t do it again,” he said at last. His throat tightened, but he held Gavin’s gaze. “I just don’t know how yet.”

Dom’s gaze dropped to Lucia. Somewhere during the conversation, she’d fallen asleep against Gavin’s chest, her cheek pressed to his shirt and one small hand curled beneath her chin.

“I’m going to put her to bed,” he said quietly.

He came around the island, slowing as he reached them. Gavin looked up at him, then carefully shifted Lucia away from his chest so Dom could slide a hand behind her head and the other beneath her bottom. For a moment, they held her between them. Gavin’s fingers brushed Dom’s wrist, and Dom had to concentrate on the warm weight of his daughter instead of how close they were.

Lucia stirred as he shifted her, her mouth puckering in a sleepy protest.

“Shh. I’ve got you, Lucky.” He settled her against his shoulder and rubbed her back until she went soft against him again.

Gavin kept a hand beneath her until Dom had her securely, then slowly let it fall. Dom looked at him over Lucia’s head. Standing this close, it would have been easy to reach out. Instead, he rested his cheek against her hair.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Gavin nodded. “Okay.”

Dom carried Lucia upstairs, keeping one hand spread across her back. Her breath warmed the side of his neck in soft puffs, and by the time he reached the nursery, his shoulders had started to loosen. He carefully lowered her into the crib. She stirred when he slipped his hand from beneath her head, her fingers opening and closing, but a few slow strokes over her belly settled her again.

Dom stayed bent over the rail. He could still feel the brief brush of Gavin’s fingers against his wrist. It was barely a touch, and he’d been thinking about it all the way upstairs.

“Your dad’s a mess,” he whispered. Lucia slept through his confession.

He straightened and rubbed both hands over his face. He’d spent so much time imagining what he would say when Gavin came back that he hadn’t thought much beyond the conversation. In some versions, he’d been colder. In others, Gavin had barely made it through the door before Dom kissed him. None of his imaginings had included him standing in the nursery, missing someone who was still sitting in his kitchen.

He wanted to go downstairs, drag him to the couch, and straddle his lap. He wanted to ask him why he hadn’t been worth one fucking text. Both urges were still there, and it was hard to separate the hurt from the want. And he didn’t think he could wait until he stopped being hurt to decide whether he still wanted Gavin.

He already knew that answer.

Dom checked that the monitor was on, then stepped out and pulled the door nearly closed. Gavin was still at the island when he came downstairs. Lucia’s empty bottle had been washed and set to dry next to the sink, and Gavin had grabbed both of them glasses of ice water. He was staring at his hands, but he looked up at the sound of Dom’s footsteps.

“Did she stay asleep?” he asked quietly.