WHEN MY BEDROOM DOOR OPENED AND DOMINIC QUIETLY STEPPED INSIDE, I’d been awake for a while, even though the sun had barely risen. He didn’t approach my bed like I’d braced myself for. Instead, in the dim light of dawn, he set down my suitcase and carry-on bag next to the door.
“Hey.”
His head jerked in my direction. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Sorry.”
“I was awake when you snuck in like a thief in the night.”
He ran his hand over the top of his head and blew out a puff of breath. “Bad night, huh?”
I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. “It was. For you too?”
He stayed right by the door, folding his arms over his chest. “I didn’t do a lot of sleeping.”
“Why not?”
Part of me wanted him to say he couldn’t sleep without me. That he was miserable over his behavior last night. He’d been too worried about me to close his eyes even for a second. Another part of me, maybe the bigger part, feared he would say exactly that and what it would mean.
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I brought your things in here. Isabela’s coming, so I didn’t want her to see your clothes in my bedroom.”
A ton of bricks hit me square in the chest. I recognized Dominic’s flat, detached tone from when we first met. I understood his aloof demeanor and the context beneath what he was saying.
I stood up beside the bed, facing Dominic fully in my wrinkled dress and smeared makeup. “Will Isabela be spending time in your bedroom?”
He shrugged. “She goes where she wants. I don’t want our temporary arrangement to have lasting repercussions on your career.”
I moved closer, to the foot of the bed. “So, you and I are done now?”
One second went by, then he nodded, his eyes unreadable in this light. “With everything that happened…”
“What happened? Was it me telling you I want to keep seeing you, or you attacking Adam because he tried to kiss me? Or was it before that? Was it when you told me about Dylan and let me inside?”
He straightened, his body tightening. “Claire, you knew what this was. You’re not even divorced and you think you want something more with me? I’m an old, broken man, baby. This isn’t your stop. You have to keep riding on.”
I knew he was right, but he pissed me off. I wasn’t ready, and neither was he, but I also wasn’t closed off to something more. The difference between us was I saw myself as a work in progress, and he viewed himself as a factory reject, destined to be tossed aside as imperfect and unworthy.
I stepped up to him so he could look me in the eye when he told me he didn’t want me anymore. I wouldn’t put up a fight or yell or scream, but I expected honesty, just as he’d demanded from me all along.
“You know, I kept thinking you were the right person, but our timing was off.”
Dominic’s nostrils flared, but he kept every other reaction tightly locked down.
I laid my hand on his taut forearm. “You once told me it was easy to mistake need for love, and I’m beginning to think that’s what I’ve done with you. You came into my life when I needed what you offered, and I thought I was falling. I see how easy it would be to confuse the two feelings.” I slid my hand down his arm to rest on top of his. “Thank you for giving me what I needed. And thank you even more for reminding me never to settle. When I do fall in love, it will be with someone who unquestioningly loves me back in every way.”
He opened his rough palm and squeezed my fingers. “You deserve that. The moon and the stars and the whole fucking universe.”
I gently shoved him away from me. “I know.”
His exhale was heavy. “You’re going, aren’t you?”
“I don’t think I’m needed here anymore. Isabela will take care of you.”
I’d said the last part with more venom than necessary, but as hurt as I was, I was also pissed. Dominic Cantrell was a coward, and I was getting really tired of cowardly men.
He backed up to the doorway. “This isn’t how I pictured us ending. I’m sorry it has to go like this.”
The funny thing was, I’d never pictured our ending. Not that I was naive enough to think we’d last forever, but the ending was never the thing I’d concentrated on.
“It didn’t have to go like this. Life doesn’t just happen to you.” I kneeled beside my bags, searching for something to wear other than this dress. I’d burn this dress if I had access to an open flame. I certainly wouldn’t be wearing it again.
“You’re right.” He tapped on the doorframe. “I’m sorry anyway.”
When I looked up from my bag, he was gone. If I stopped moving, I’d fall apart, and that wasn’t an option. Not here. So, I booked a last-minute flight home, then I showered, dressed, and slipped my feet into my favorite rose gold oxfords.
The condo was quiet and empty when I wheeled my suitcase through. My steps didn’t stutter even once when I left, pulling the door shut behind me.
When my plane lifted off and the city of Chicago lay beneath me, I gave it the middle finger as a last goodbye. My husband’s affair in this city had shattered me. Silly me, a few months later, I came back to be kicked in the teeth by Dominic Cantrell. My lesson had been well and truly learned this time. Chicago and I were officially through. No more men who couldn’t find it within themselves to rise up and be better. No more settling for lukewarm. Once my bruises healed, I’d rise up and be better.
I needed just a little Annaliese time before any of that happened. She waited at the airport for me with open arms, which I fell into with a deep sigh of relief.
“You’re going to be so good,” she murmured into my hair.
“I know.”
Even though I ached all over from missing him, I wouldn’t let myself stumble. Never, ever again.
Annaliese took my bag on her shoulder and my hand in hers. “Let’s go home, baby.”
