5. Dominic
CHAPTER 5
Dominic
FUCK IT
PRESENT
H arvest Grocers hasn’t changed a bit, and I’m not sure that’s a good thing. The place is definitely in need of a face-lift. Cracked tiles, outdated signage, and the same cashier that have been working here since I was a kid.
I push the cart down the canned food aisle, eyes scanning the shelves for something that looks appetizing. With a non-working kitchen, I’m limited to a mini fridge and a microwave.
As I turn the corner, I nearly bump into someone’s cart. “Sorry,” I say automatically, glancing up—and freeze.
“Look who it is,” Leanne Ledger greets me with a warm smile, the kind only a mom could manage. Her cart is full, overflowing with fresh produce and a bouquet of daisies poking out the top. Jack stands beside her with his arm looped around her lower back, like he’s holding her steady.
“Leanne.” I nod at Jack. “Jack, good to see you again.”
Jack nods back and Leanne comes forward, walking carefully, and wraps me in a hug. As she pulls away, she grabs hold of my shoulders. “I probably look breakable right now, just recovering from a minor surgery.”
“You look great, Leanne.” She smiles and blushes, reminding me of a time when my compliments used to emit the same reaction from her daughter.
Her smile evens out, turning down at the corners as she tilts her head slightly. “I heard about your dad. I’m so sorry. He was a good man.”
“Thank you.” My throat begins to tighten. “I appreciate that.”
Will the day ever come that I’m not on the edge of a breakdown any time someone mentions my dad? People say time makes it easier, but if anything, it continues to feel worse and worse.
Leanne steps back, returning to stand at the cart. “Next time you talk to your mom, would you ask her if it’s okay if I reach out? It’s been so long since we last spoke, but we used to be great friends when you guys lived next door.”
“I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”
She hesitates for a moment, exchanging a glance with Jack. “You know, we’re having our usual Sunday dinner tonight. You should come.”
The invitation catches me off guard. “I…I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” My brain immediately flashes to Ellie, and I can’t decide if she’d be more shocked or irritated to see me sitting at her family’s table. Probably both. “I’m sure Jack filled you in on the incident that occurred…” I trail off, embarrassed to even bring it up.
She laughs and waves her hand through the air, her smile widening just slightly. “Oh, don’t worry about Elyse,” she says dismissively. “She’ll be fine. Besides, the guys would love to see you.”
Ellie’s brothers may have been my friends at one point, but they’ll always have their sister’s back. I wouldn’t be surprised if they gave me the cold shoulder. Ethan is the only one who’s been mildly welcoming since I moved back.
I raise an eyebrow, skeptical. “Are you sure about that?”
“Of course,” she insists, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’ve always been welcome. That hasn’t changed.”
I’m not so sure Ellie would agree with that sentiment, but Leanne’s expression leaves no room for argument.
“I’ll think about it,” I say finally, which is code for probably not.
“Good,” she says, patting my arm lightly before pushing her cart past me while Jack offers me a parting nod. “Dinner’s at five. You know the address.”
I stand there for a moment, watching her and Jack walk away, the scent of daisies lingering in the air. Part of me feels like a teenager again, awkwardly navigating my way through the Ledger family’s orbit. And part of me wonders if showing up at Sunday dinner isn’t the worst idea after all.
The groceries I bought earlier still sit on the makeshift counter, a slab of plywood perched on cinder blocks. I only put away the two perishable items I bought and the rest I was too lazy to deal with. It’s not as if I have cabinets anyway. Glancing around at my half-gutted kitchen, I take in the disaster that it is. The drywall is exposed in patches, wires snake out from where outlets should be, and a stack of cabinets in parts leans against the far wall.
The place looks more like a construction zone than a home. It was supposed to be a project to get buried in, a way to keep my hands busy after my dad died. Something to fix when I couldn’t fix anything else. Only now, almost two months later, the kitchen still looks like this, and I can’t remember the last time I cooked a real meal.
I pull out the ingredients to make a sandwich for dinner—bread, deli turkey, and a six-pack of beer. Not exactly the most nutritious thing I’ve ever consumed, but then again, beggars can’t be choosers. After cracking open a beer, I hold it to my lips, debating on whether I even want it or not. None of this shit sounds appetizing, beer included.
Instead, I set the can down and lean against the plywood counter, letting out a breath as I put together the sandwich. This house was supposed to be a step forward, a fresh start, but all I’ve managed to do is collect more unfinished projects. Leanne’s voice replays in my head. You’ve always been welcome. That hasn’t changed.
The idea of Sunday dinner at the Ledger’s stirs something in my chest—nostalgia, maybe, or just dread. Nostalgia for the way it used to feel like family. Dread because I know Ellie will be upset by my presence.
I bite into the dry turkey sandwich and stare at the hole in the drywall above the sink, my mind already playing out the scene. Me, walking into their dining room like a decade hasn’t passed since I’ve been there. Leanne greeting me with a hug, Jack with a clap on the back. And Ellie, shooting me a death glare, or worse, being perfectly polite. Lately, I never know which version of her I’m going to get. It’s never the good one, that’s for sure. After the arrest, I’m not sure I’ll ever be graced with her good side again.
I take another unsatisfying bite and toss it back down on the paper plate, abandoning it, and walking into what’s supposed to be the living room. Right now, the only furniture is a camping chair and an oversized, mounted TV. Fuck, this place is depressing as hell .
I can either spend the rest of my night working on this shit show or I can go face the other mess I’m trying to repair.
Fuck it.
I’m going and Ellie is just going to have to deal with it. If I have any chance of getting past the walls she’s built up, I’m going to have to do things that make us uncomfortable. She needs to know I’m not going anywhere.