“Angel.” Dominic’s soft voice touches me a moment before his hands land on the sides of my calves.
He’s crouched in front of me so we’re eye level.
I sniff before I look up at him. “Hi.”
Dom reaches up, brushing his thumb across my cheek. “What happened?”
“I got separated.” I sniff again.
“Don’t cry, Valentine.” He swipes another tear away.
I shift, and the stuff in my lap crinkles. “I broke the bowl.”
He looks down, noticing the dish I’m still holding.
“We’ll fix it.” Dom lifts his hands and settles them over mine so we’re holding the bowl together. But the position pushes my palms against the wood and causes me to wince.
Dominic jerks his hands back so fast it’s like I burned him.
“Sorry.” I apologize, even though I know I shouldn’t. But I don’t like making him feel bad.
He takes the bowl from my grip and sets it on the bench next to me. Then he gently grabs my wrists and turns my hands palm up, revealing the angry scrapes and the couple spots of blood.
“Who did this?” Dominic’s voice is so level. It sounds so controlled.
But I don’t think it is.
“No one.”
“Valentine.” He lets go of one hand to grip my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Who touched you?”
I try to shake my head, but I can’t with his hold on me. “It wasn’t—”
Dominic leans in closer to me, and his eyes reveal the fakeness of his calm exterior. “If someone hurts you, I will kill them. Do not attempt to stop me.”
His words lace up around me, tightening and forcing away the last of my lingering panic.
“I fell,” I whisper.
He shifts closer. His abdomen pushes against my knees, and my leg gives a little jerk.
Dominic immediately leans away, his hands moving to my thighs as he looks down at the tear in my jeans on my right knee.
“Did someone push you?”
“No.” Another whispered admission. “I tripped over a stroller.”
He looks back up at me, careful to avoid my knee. “Are you okay?”
I nod. A few more tears break free at his tender tone.
“Why are you crying, Wife?” He slides his hands up my legs until he’s gripping me under my jacket, holding my hips.
“I—” I lower my eyes to my lap. “I thought maybe you left me.”
“Left you?”
I press my fingertips onto my thighs, wishing I had something to hold.
“I thought…” I stop to take a breath. “I was buying that bowl”—I gesture to it—“while your mom went to get a pretzel, but when I tried to find her after, she was gone. And then I couldn’t find her. And I tried to find you.” My voice hitches, and I feel so stupid, but I can’t help it. “You said there were so many of your people here, but I couldn’t spot anyone.” His thumbs rub circles on my hips. “I thought you left me.”
“Angel.” Dom shifts closer, carefully nudging my hurt knee aside. “I’m not going to leave you.”
My shoulders lift in the smallest shrug. “I know.”
“Valentine.” He waits for my gaze to meet his. “I’d choose you. You know that, right?”
I move my head from side to side, not understanding him.
Dom cups my cheek with his warm palm. “If there was no Alliance—never was—I’d still choose you.”
Those words…
My eyes close, then open, and he’s still there. Still before me.
“You make me feel special,” I tell him, my voice so full of emotion it spills between us.
He glides his thumb across my cheek. “Good.”
Someone carrying a bag of jingle bells walks past, the noise high and light. And I inhale, needing to tell him this one last thing. “My mom killed herself on Christmas Day.”
