Chapter 14 Dom
Dom
I’d been crushed on the sofa for an hour, thoroughly buzzed and still spiralling with the buildup of my dilemma. I was too used to my mum’s games to dwell on it any longer. But it didn’t stop me. My sisters were how she kept me bound to her.
Staring up at the ceiling, my eyes barely focused, I lay on the sofa like a plank of wood drifting on the ocean, with no direction, no idea what I was doing, or if I’d ever make it to shore.
The money was transferred, and I’d sent Sally a text to tell her the good news.
My phone went off, sounding out from behind me. I rolled my eyes.
“I swear to fucking God…” I mumbled. If that was Sally coming back for round two, I was going to lose it. I was raw enough from her emotional slap already. I couldn’t deal with whatever excuse she’d made to ring back just so she could gloat.
I twisted, trying to push myself off the sofa. I totally failed, landing on all fours on the carpet, squeezing my eyes closed as the world shook, and I groaned.
There was another ding, and I lifted my head. I was sure my phone was on the coffee table. I smacked my hand around, searching for it. My brow furrowed as I hit nothing but cold glass.
One more ding sounded from the wall of jackets in front of me, the hooks right next to the front door.
I had one phone for work, one for personal use that stayed with me all the time, and one for completely private, untraceable calls from Grace that lived in my home office.
I hoisted myself up and lumbered over to the door, wrestling with the neat rows of jackets for all occasions.
If it was my sisters again, I needed to answer ASAP.
Terry might have pulled some bullshit. He had absolutely nothing on Sally when it came to smarts, but he was a fucking brute.
One of the reasons I worked out was to deal with him if he got out of hand. It had happened before.
Another ping came from my left, and in my alcohol-fuelled search, I managed to locate it in the leather jacket closest to the door.
I hadn’t worn it since yesterday at Paulie’s. Weird, but I didn’t question it. I was too pissed to care.
Stumbling as I got back to the sofa, I tipped to the left as I fell, the back of my head thumping against the armrest, feet kicked up over the other.
I stared at the screen, Harry’s name and his texts right there. I made sure I could always see texts as soon as they arrived. I couldn’t be arsed going through a lock screen, especially if I was drunk or horny.
Behind the texts was a picture of Harry, Molly, and me in front of the Eiffel tower, all lit up for Christmas.
It was only six months ago, but so much had changed already.
I’d bought the weekend trip as a gift for them.
It was the most fun the three of us had had all year, and we each had the photo as our lock screens.
I turned the phone around in my hands, pretty sure it was too small, but if it was Harry, I wasn’t going to ignore him.
I clicked it instantly, opening up his chat box with four messages.
Hi, I’ve been thinking of the best way to say this since I last saw you.
I was really upset when you left
And I miss you.
Even if you don’t get this text, I want you to know you’re still the most important person in my life, whatever you might think.
I couldn’t wrap my head around what he was saying.
I mean, yeah, I was a dick leaving the pub early, but I didn’t think he would respond like this. It was just a hard-on, I was pretty sure that wasn’t enough for him to talk like our friendship was over.