44. Scars
Iclosed the garage door behind me and caught the sound of hangers sliding against the closet rod down the hall.
Yelling at the bedroom door, I set the groceries on the counter. “I’m home.”
Before I had the fridge all the way open, Dom grabbed me from behind with his lips on my ear. “God, I’m glad you’re back.” Twisting my shoulders until I faced him, he gripped my cheeks and pushed his mouth onto mine. “I’ve been so damn bored without you.”
When he finally broke away from me, I nodded toward the bedroom. “Were you able to get everything moved today?”
Crossing his arms, he leaned against the island and nodded as he looked over what I had bought. “Yep. The moving process goes much faster when you don’t have much.”
Though he smiled at me, how he rubbed his chin and jerked his eyes told me of the trouble growing in his mind. “How can I be almost thirty-nine years old and not acquire more than a truckload of possessions? What the hell have I been doing with my life?” He laughed at himself in that humorless way. “Pathetic. Isn’t it?”
Leaving the groceries on the counter, I went back to him and poked my finger into his belly. “You can stop that right now.”
From the most confident person in the world to a doubt-filled child with only a word from his mother, he sank into his skin when I touched him. “You’ve been busy saving lives, Dom. That’s not pathetic.” I tapped my finger on his temple as my other hand went around his hip to bring us together. “You have more here, and” — I laid my hand on his heart — “here than anyone I’ve ever met. That’s not pathetic either.”
My eyes moved over everything around us. “Now we have this amazing house and our amazing friends.” Gripping his shirt in my fists, I playfully jerked him. “This place will pop from every seam with how happy we are from now on, and that’s definitely not pathetic.”
I reached up to kiss him and rubbed our noses together. “I don’t care how much junk you’ve collected on your journey, Dom. Only about what we’re building together now.” Stepping back, I twisted my mouth at him and looked around the cupboards. “And my cooking stuff. So, did you happen to pick that up?”
The door by his knee opened. “Here you go.” I crouched and pulled a skillet from the bottom shelf as he slid away to the other side of the counter. “I washed them and everything.”
When I set it down on the stove, I pulled the peppers from the shopping bag and peeked over my shoulder. “So, how did it go with your mom? I mean, how are you feeling about how everything went?”
Air pushed through his lips as I peeled those little stupid stickers away with my thumbnail. “It went better than I expected, I guess. But” — he cringed when I cocked my eyebrow back at him — “don’t be surprised if she magically appears when you least expect it.”
I shook my head at the knife I pulled from the block. “I’m not a kid anymore, Dom. I can handle her. Besides,” — I bounced the blade tip at him and winked — “you’re both stuck with me now.”
“There’s a…” The way he paused made me look back at him, and he cleared his throat as he turned his hand over. “She just seemed like she was wanting to stir something up. So, if she contacts you or shows up here, just call me, and I’ll deal with her.”
Dropping the knife to the cutting board, I leaned over the island, flicking my eyebrows at him. “If she wants to talk to me, I have no problem with that. Nothing she says is going to change anything for me.” I reached over and squeezed his fingers. “Not this time. We’re solid.”
Something so upsetting popped up in his mind, making his eyes glass over. “A lot of things happened when you left” — he shook his head, sighing softly as his eyes fell away to the counter — “that she’s never going to let me forget. Every time she needs some kind of advantage over me, she pulls that card again.” Scanning me with his eyes for a beat, he wrestled my hand until he had it against his chest, and I was bent halfway over the island. “I just want you to give me the chance to explain when she does. Please don’t take off on me without talking to me first.”
I understood the part I played in all this anxiety that had him right at the edge of tears half the time. So, if I had to tell him a hundred times a day how much I loved him, it was no hardship for me. “There’s nothing she can say or do to make that happen, Dom. I’m all in now.”
Part of me wanted to know everything that happened after I left to brace myself against the storm I was sure was coming. Still, the other half was terrified to hear about what he experienced when he went on without me. “If there’s something you feel you need to warn me about, though, you can tell me.”
I searched my mind for every possible deal breaker that could keep me away from him, but after a second or two, I shrugged because I realized there wasn’t one. “I wasn’t around, and you owed me nothing. Nor do you owe me any explanation now for your choices.”
He hadn’t been married. Had no kids that I knew of. And I’m guessing the hospital wouldn’t have kept him around all this time had he a criminal record to speak of. But knowing Donna as I did, she could bend the tiniest crumb of information into something earth-shattering. “Whatever it is, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me, but if you want to, I’m here to listen.” I shook my head. “Judgement free. I promise.”
He pulled my hand to his mouth and kissed it as he slid off his chair. “It’s nothing in particular. You just know how she is.” Backing away from me, he motioned behind him with a head tilt. “I’m going to finish up in there unless you need me to chop something or open a can or anything.”
I gave the food a quick look over and waved him off. “Un-un. I got this. You go chill out and watch some TV or something.”
As I watched Dom walk back to the bedroom, his shoulders slumped as he rubbed the stress from the back of his neck, and my heart broke for him.
My parents never had much and couldn’t stand each other most of the time, but I knew they both loved and wanted the best for me. Even Dad keeping that secret from me was easy to forgive, because I understood it came from a good place in his heart for us both.
But whatever kind of sick mind game Missus Vasser played with Dom had cut him down deep in his soul, and the scars of what she did to us would never heal for him.