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Walking out into the sun, still alone. More alone than before.
How different would my life be if I’d had someone?
How different would I be if I hadn’t felt so… so fucking alone when I needed people the very most?
How different would I be if I’d had someone to hug when my parents died? How different would it feel to mournwithsomeone?
Grief swamps me. Sucks me under its wave as I let myself feel everything I missed.
And it feels awful.
It feels so lonely and cold. And endless.
Like it will be my forever.
I blindly reach across with my right hand until I’m gripping Dom’s palm between mine.
I want to hate him.
He settles his left hand on top of our combined ones.
I want to hate him, but I can’t.
His body leans into mine, and he presses his mouth to the top of my head.
A kiss.
A sign of affection.
It’s exactly what I need, but it’s still too much.
I want to crawl into his lap.
I want to hit him as hard as I can.
I want to scream at him. And I want to tell him everything.
I want to tell him about my mother’s funeral. I want to tell him how horrible it was. How much it hurt. How alone I felt.
How alone I feel.
How I haven’t been able to shake that feeling.
It’s been six years… Six years of feeling lost.
Six years of hoping and wishing for someone to come in and save me from myself. Save me from the desperate blank feeling inside me.
But I can’t focus on any of that now. Because the man at my side, the one holding my hands like no one has before, might be my husband, but he’s also the head of the Chicago mafia. And the people filling this room are his family and his men, and I can’t break down here.
I can’t break down next to a mother grieving her son.
I can’t do anything but cling to him.
I’ll have to pick up my pieces later.
CHAPTER25
Dom
