Chapter 35
goodness, what did i get myself into?
MIA
September
In my old bedroom, I stand in front of the closet, scanning the rows of clothes. Some, I brought with me from Italy, and some have been hanging here for years. I catch the hem of a satin dress and twist my lips. What was I thinking, buying this stuff? I never even wore it.
“You’ve been staring at your clothes for twenty minutes.”
Eyebrows drawn together, I look over my shoulder at Chiara, who’s propped up against the headboard, her phone in her hand.
“I’m just trying to decide what to pack. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. But you’re literally staring!” She nods at my open suitcase on the floor. “And it’s still empty.”
I roll my eyes and focus on my clothes again.
“Where did this indecisiveness come from?” she asks. “Does it have anything to do with a certain someone with blond hair, hazel eyes, and a devilish smirk?”
“It has nothing to do with Dominic,” I argue. “I couldn’t care less that he’s going.” I take a little black dress off the hanger and grab two T-shirts from the shelf.
“God, you’re delusional.”
Ignoring her, I toss my clothes into the suitcase.
“All I’m saying,” she continues, “is that you’re about to spend four days with the guy you never got over. Do you have a plan?”
A wave of unease washes over me as I turn back to my closet.
“I don’t need a plan,” I say, infusing my tone with a confidence I don’t feel. “Nothing’s going to happen between us.”
“Does Dominic feel the same way?”
I hide my face in my palms and groan. She’s not going to leave me alone, is she?
Taking a deep breath, I turn to face her.
“Do I need to remind you he broke my heart? Maybe you’ve forgotten just how he did it.
How he brought a girl into his apartment so I’d find them together and told me some bullshit story about not being over Remi all so he wouldn’t have to tell me the truth about why he was ripping us apart. ”
Her face softens, and she sets her phone down beside her. “Miles doesn’t think I should tell you, but…it’s not exactly a secret.” She twirls a strand of her hair around her finger. “Dominic isn’t over you.”
I hang my head low, my heart aching. “I know.”
There’s no point denying it. I suspected it before he even left the coffee shop and then later, at dinner, when his eyes were glued to me.
With the way he spoke in my ear, so no one could hear, it was obvious.
His presence is so big and dominant, even from across the table.
It’s deep in my bones, as if our shitshow breakup never happened.
As if I didn’t spend four months avoiding him.
As if I didn’t move to Italy. As if there’s never been anyone else.
It feels as though it’s only ever been the two of us. The way it always should’ve been. How I always wanted us to be.
Except none of that is true.
I’m not sure there will ever be an us again.
“Mia.” Chiara’s calm voice rips me out of my thoughts. “I know what’s in your heart, how consuming and overwhelming your love for him was.” She presses her lips together, assessing me. “If you think there’s even a smidgen of a chance you’d give him another shot, you better make him work for it.”
She’s right. But could I really give him another shot after the way he tore my heart out and stomped on it? The damn thing is bruised and battered, and some days, I worry he took away my ability to love…to love anyone but him.
You’re mine. You will always be mine.
The words he whispered the night of his birthday four years ago still play in my mind, as loud as ever. They still make my heart sing, because there’s nothing but truth in them.
I smile at Chia. “I’ll figure it out.”
Thirty minutes before we’re set to leave, my suitcase is packed, necessary emails have been sent, and DMs from clients have been answered. For the first time since I left Italy, I’m caught up on work.
I set my suitcase by the front door then head to the kitchen for a snack. Mom, who got back from Washington late last night, is sitting at the breakfast table with a book. The title makes me smile—Gardening for Dummies. Never thought my mom would be into gardening.
She puts the book down as I open the fridge.
“Excited about the trip?” she asks. “You always loved Tahoe when you were little.”
“It should be fun.” I shrug as I pull out the container of grapes. “A nice little getaway.”
Behind me, Mom clears her throat. “It’s good to have you home. It feels like everything is finally how it should be.”
I straighten and close the fridge door. “Yeah. It’s nice.”
She sighs, squaring her shoulders. “I’ve apologized before, but I need you to know how sorry I am for how I treated you when you were younger. It was unfair of me.”
Hip propped against the counter, I dip my chin. “Thanks.”
“I was wrong about you and Dominic. He’s a good guy.
I’ve known that all his life, but I let my anger cloud my judgment, and I let the opinions of others get to me.
I hurt you, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness.
” She lifts her chin, eyes welling with tears.
“But that doesn’t stop me from hoping I won’t lose you over the mistakes I made. ”
I watch her in silence. “Hurt” is a mild word for what she did to me, but how can I move on with my life if I keep holding on to the past? Maybe it’s time to let go.
It’s at least worth a try. So, I shuffle over to her and wrap her in a hug.
“Thank you, Mom. I really appreciate it.”
When I step out front, Dominic is waiting, leaning against a shiny black Escalade, his lips curled into a lopsided grin. He looks like he has all the time in the world, like nothing can faze him.
I’m nervous, but I’m ready to get this trip started—mostly because I hope that by the end of it, I’ll have the answers I seek.
I’m halfway down the stairs with my suitcase when quick footsteps snag my attention. Then, he’s in front of me, easing the luggage out of my grip.
My stomach lurches at his proximity. “You don’t have to… It’s not—”
Without a word, he turns and heads back to his car, rolling my suitcase behind him.
“Heavy…” I finish, even though he’s already approaching the back of his truck.
With a shake of my head, I make my way to the Escalade.
The whole way there, I can’t help but check him out.
Dammit. He’s always been confident, even cocky, but the confidence he carries himself with now is earned.
He’s wearing a simple white T-shirt that’s just tight enough to show off the muscles in his back.
His arms flex under the weight of my suitcase when he lifts it into the trunk.
When he steps back, he looks at me, wearing a smirk.
Yeah, he knows I’m checking him out. Honestly, I don’t feel bad about it.
Before I can open the passenger door, he darts over and does it for me.
Rather than back away to give me space to climb in, he stays close, and I’m forced to brush up against him.
Goosebumps spread across my skin as I settle into the leather seat.
He brackets the open door. “Do you need help with your seat belt?”
It takes all my strength not to swoon. “No, thanks,” I say, a little breathlessly.
“Suit yourself.” He licks his lips and steps back. “Just whistle if you change your mind.”
“Are you a dog now?”
His eyes flare. “Maybe.” He closes the door, but before it latches, he fucking woofs.
Goodness, what did I get myself into?
We’re three hours into the drive, and he’s been on his best behavior, his eyes on the road and an easy smile on his lips.
He let me choose the music and didn’t mind when I asked him to stop for coffee.
The road ahead is empty, and according to the GPS, we’re still two hours away from Luna’s grandparents’ lake house.
I was sure the ride would be awkward, but he’s made it all so easy, and I’m happy to play along.
We talk about our childhood and our previous trips to Lake Tahoe, about his work at the shop and with the football team, about my job as a game designer and the freelance work I still do.
We don’t go deep into any of the topics and tiptoe around any subject that’ll lead to us talking about the months we spent together.
And for now, I think that’s for the best. I don’t want to spoil the moment; my mood is too good.
“So, you’re really back for good?” he asks.
I turn the music down a bit. “At least for now. I haven’t officially decided yet.”
The corners of his mouth drop for an instant, but he quickly forces a smile to his face. “That’s good to know. Nothing was the same without you here.”
“Life in Italy was nothing like it is here either.”
He eyes me quickly, a crease between his brows. Then, he coughs and clears his throat. “What about your job? Won’t moving be an issue?”
Grateful for the opportunity to change the subject, I relax against the seat and explain the relocation process.
He listens attentively, asking questions.
His interest encourages me to share some of the projects I’m most proud of and to bitch about the last time my team and I participated in a hackathon and won nothing.
It’s all going well…almost too well.
Thirty minutes from the lake house, we stop for gas. Dominic runs in for a pack of cigarettes, and I ask him to bring me a bottle of water. While I wait, I stretch my legs, leaning back against the leather seat.
On the console beside me, his phone buzzes and lights up. I don’t mean to look, really. It’s pure instinct.
And the second I see the message, my heart sinks.
The number isn’t saved in his contacts, but what the text suggests is way more information than I need.
Unknown Number:
Even a month later, I’m still thinking about how you had me Busy Saturday?
Irritation and hurt flaring, I turn away, tugging on the hem of my tee. When the phone buzzes again, a reminder notification, I close my eyes and force a deep breath.
When I open my eyes, he’s striding out of the store with a bottle of water in one hand.
That confident swagger hasn’t been affected by the long hours in the car. As he climbs in, he holds the water out to me. “Here.”
Without looking his way, I grasp the bottom of the bottle. “Thanks.”
When he doesn’t let go, I finally look at him.
He’s frowning. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I shrug and pull the bottle out of his hold.
As I do, his phone buzzes again, and we both look down at the screen. He does it to check who’s texting him. I do it because I’m a masochist.
Jaw clenched, he picks up the device and slips it into his pocket.
To no one’s surprise, we’re silent for the rest of the drive.