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Shiloh’s heart warmed. “You should consider her proposal. I know she’s dreadful, but you’d be a cute dad.”
Dom said nothing for a long moment, and Shiloh desperately wished the sun wasn’t totally washing out his vision because he wanted to know what look was on his face. “That life isn’t for me, mate.”
Shiloh wanted to argue because he didn’t believe that. Dom was the perfect man for a domesticated life full of picket fences and little kids running round the front garden. He’d spent far too much time envisioning their own life just like that. Once his dad retired and gave up the farm, they’d stick close by but buy something different. Something uniquely theirs.
Dom would build things, and the house would always smell amazing. Shiloh would keep chickens and bees because he wasn’t sure he could live without them now, but there would be no pressure to be anything except themselves.
“Shall we take a walk?” Dom asked, startling Shiloh out of his thoughts. “I’m getting a wicked leg cramp.”
Pushing his chair back, he passed Dom his mostly empty mug, then fetched his cane from the edge of the table, feeling each click as it wobbled into place. Even the darkest glasses couldn’t save his vision from being totally washed out on perfect autumn day like this, and giving up the sight of it was hardly a sacrifice when he had Dom at his side and the bite of sea air that carried hints of winter on the current.
The stone wall that separated the beach from the street was the perfect guide, and he let his cane tip graze it as they made their way toward Sarah’s shop. “Do you want to stop in?” he asked a few minutes into the stroll.
“Hmm? Stop in where?”
“Sarah’s,” Shiloh said.
“Oh. Er. I’d rather not if it’s all the same to you. We had a bit of a row the other day, and she’s been weird with me over text since then.”
Shiloh stopped and frowned. “What were you rowing over?”
“Erm.” Though Shiloh couldn’t see his face, he could perfectly picture Dom’s expression that matched the quiet hum, telling Shiloh he was trying to come up with a lie.
“Domenico,” he warned.
“It was nothing, alright. We just—”
“Dom?”
Shiloh froze. The voice calling Dom’s name was a vaguely familiar, low rumble, a sort of delicious spicy tone that made him think of cinnamon. Something nagged at his gut, but he couldn’t place it.
At least not until Dom spoke.
“Kellen.”
Bloody. Fucking. Hell.
“Hey. I don’t mean to interrupt your, er…helping someone out?”
Shiloh realized what Kellen was saying, and he bristled, turning to face him. “He’s not helping me out.”
“Oh my God,” Kellen breathed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t recognize you. I didn’t realize you were…I mean. Have you always been…”
“Blind?” Shiloh said irritably. “Didn’t we have a whole conversation about it at the pub?”
“Well, that was about color,” Kellen said softly. “I didn’t know it was the same thing.”
Shiloh squared his shoulders and tapped his cane twice against the ground. “I’ll let you two catch up.” He started off, ignoring Dom calling his name, but he didn’t go too far. There was a bus bench just on the edge of earshot, and he took it, leaning his head back and closing his eyes against the too-bright sun.
It took him a second to pick out their voices over the wind, but after a beat, he could hear them.
“…the other night. I totally understand. I just want to know if it was something I said.”
“No, not at all,” Dom said, his voice tender, making Shiloh feel painfully hateful. “I just had another obligation.”
“Oh. Well, Sarah said to bother you about it, but that seemed rude. Then I saw you and, well…I just thought we had a good time last time we were together.”
“We did,” Dom said, and his chuckle made Shiloh want to vomit. “At least, I did. But nothing’s changed. I’m not really in a place for a relationship.”
