11. Elyse
CHAPTER 11
Elyse
DELICATE CURSIVE LETTERS
PRESENT
S omeone needs to commit me because I have lost my fucking mind.
Dominic stands there, jaw slack, while his little girlfriend shoots me a gloating smirk.
This was a mistake.
My lips turn up, in what I hope is a smile, but I’m sure looks more like a grimace. A gasp floats up my throat and my chest heaves, trying to take in air that isn’t coming. Am I hyperventilating?
“I’ll come back another time,” I choke out, and sprint toward my car.
Over the crunching of gravel under my shoes, I hear Dominic behind me, but I don’t turn around. This is mortifying.
“Wait! Wait! Wait!” Dominic shouts.
I keep walking, my skin burning redder with each step.
“Morales, I’ll see you at work,” he tells the woman who was just in his house .
My ears snag on the mention of work, but I’m too focused on how pretty, and flushed, and thoroughly satisfied she looked, to fully comprehend the scene I stumbled upon. They were probably saying their goodbyes after fucking all night, and I’m so lucky I got to witness it.
I’ve never felt so embarrassed in my life.
And, God, she’s pretty. So pretty.
I’m sure every woman he’s been with since me has been gorgeous. I wouldn’t expect anything less. Dominic has only gotten better with age.
“Ellie, wait!” I feel him right at my heels, the pounding of his steps moves the ground beneath mine.
Still not looking back, I reach for the handle of my car door, but before I can pull it open, his hand slams against the window, holding it shut. His arm grazes against my shoulder, and he’s so close now I can feel the puff of his breath on the back of my neck.
“Ellie,” Dominic says, his voice low and steady. Too steady, considering the way my chest is rising and falling like I’ve just run a marathon.
I keep my gaze fixed on my car door, refusing to turn and meet his eyes. Every time I look into his melty brown eyes, my defenses evaporate to dust. “Move,” I manage, though it comes out more like a plea than a demand.
“Not until you talk to me and tell me why you’re here,” he counters, his hand still pressed firmly against the window.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I grumble, wishing I could disappear into thin air. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just got curious—” My voice catches, and I bite down hard on my lip. “I haven’t been by in years…And I’m sorry for ruining your date, or whatever.”
Why am I explaining?
He exhales sharply, the frustration in the sound rippling over my skin. “Ellie, Morales isn’t?— ”
“I don’t want to hear it.” My grip tightens on the door handle—trying to pull it, but his weight keeps it in place. My stare flicks straight ahead, landing on the woman. Morales. Our eyes meet—hers narrowed, assessing.
Her stare is cold, not so much as an attempt at feigning friendliness. I guess I would be upset too if another woman showed up at my man’s place in the early hours of the morning.
She pins me with one more glare before getting in her car.
If she’s not his girlfriend, she wants to be. I know that look.
Dominic and I remain unmoving as she peels out of the driveway without a glance back.
And then it’s just us.
“You don’t owe me an explanation,” I start, trying to keep my delivery breezy despite the pressure building in my ribs. “You can date whoever you want. It’s none of my business. Just let me go.”
I mean it. I do. But the words taste bitter, and my pulse thrums painfully in my ears.
This is uncharted territory. Outside whatever my imagination could cook up, I’ve never seen him with another woman. It’s unsettling.
“Ellie girl.” He softens, in that low, patient tone that used to make me melt. It’s making me melt now, but I’m choosing to ignore it.
Finally, I spin around, ready to confront him, but I freeze when I see the look on his face—he’s amused, smiling.
I find nothing about this situation funny.
“She’s my coworker,” he says quietly, his all-knowing eyes shining with glee. “We’re not together. Morales stopped by to talk about a case, that’s all.”
My cheeks flame, and I drop my gaze to the ground, suddenly very aware of how ridiculous I must look right now. “Oh,” I mumble.
“Yeah. Oh.” His lips twitch like he’s holding back a laugh, which only makes me more defensive.
“Well, how was I supposed to know that? She was in your house. I just assumed?—”
“That we’re together?” he interrupts, his eyebrows lifting.
“Well, yeah,” I admit, focusing my attention on a rogue wildflower instead of him.
A beat of silence passes before he chuckles, and I whip my head up to scowl at him.
“This isn’t funny!”
“Ellie,” he says, that damn grin still plastered on his face. “You’re jealous. It’s cute.”
My head jerks back, hot embarrassment crawling up my neck. “I am NOT jealous.” It comes out sharper than I intended, but I double down, crossing my arms. “What I am, is too curious for my own good. I only wanted to see the house, see if you made any changes. Your personal life doesn’t concern me.”
His smirk deepens, slow and deliberate, the kind that creates a coil low in my stomach. A wicked, almost teasing curve settles on his lips.
“Admit it.”
Before I can quip back, he comes forward, leaning his body close, forcing me against my car. For a moment I think he’s going to kiss me, but at the last second turns his head to whisper in my ear.
“You’re so jealous.”
The dusting of his breath caresses the shell of my ear. I swallow hard. If I wasn’t resting against my car, my knees would’ve given out by now.
How does he still have so much power over me? I’m turning to putty in his hands and he’s barely touched me .
It would be so easy to give in to this overwhelming want for him—a want that just won’t die. I’ve starved it, smothered it, neglected it, yet it still breathes. In his presence, it blooms as brightly as the wildflower at my feet, tangling with the weeds but refusing to let them win. So resilient, it makes you wonder how it survives.
But then I remember how quickly I withered without him. And just like that, reality comes crashing down.
Sidestepping, I put some needed space between us. “I’m not going to admit to something that isn’t true. And let’s not pretend like we both haven’t seen other people. I highly doubt you’ve been celibate all these years.” I square my shoulders, false confidence surging through me. “I know I haven’t.”
His smile falls in an instant. My words hit the nerve I was aiming for, but it doesn’t feel as satisfying as I thought it would.
He clears his throat and takes a measured step back, straightening his stance. “So, that’s what we’re going to do? Petty jabs? I’m aware time didn’t stand still.”
The hurt in his eyes is unmistakable—hurt I caused on purpose. Further proof I’m exactly the monster I always knew I was.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
He nods, looking like he wants to say more but doesn’t.
Coming here was a mistake. I don’t know what I was thinking. “I’m leaving.”
He reaches out, stopping me, his fingers wrapping gently around my wrist. His thumb brushes over the soft skin on the inside, sending a shuddering warmth through me. Slowly, he turns my hand palm-up, revealing something I usually keep hidden beneath a stack of bracelets. But not today.
“You kept it,” he murmurs low, almost reverent.
“Kind of hard to get rid of something permanent,” I reply just as softly, not sure why we’re whispering .
It’s been there so long, I barely think about it anymore. The delicate cursive letters etched into the inside of my wrist spell out one name: Dominic .
Still holding my wrist in his right hand, he lifts his left arm and turns it, revealing the matching tattoo inked on his skin. The script is identical, but his reads Elyse .
“Why did you keep it?” he asks.
I yank my arm away, pushing the sleeve of my shirt down to cover it.
“I really should go.” My voice wavers as I turn toward my car, my fight or flight instincts battling for control.
“Ellie. Why. Did. You. Keep. It.”
Each word lands like the steady pounding of a drum as he inches closer until his chest is brushing my back, his heat penetrating through the thin barrier of my top.
I should move. Say something.
But I don’t.
Because all I really want to do is give into him, let the weight of whatever this is—whatever it’s always been—consume me.
My fingers twitch at my sides, nails digging into my palms. “It doesn’t matter.”
His breath hitches, a beat of silence stretching between us before he exhales. “It matters to me.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “That’s the problem.”
“Have dinner with me,” he says quietly.
My chest caves in. “I can’t.” It’s a knee-jerk reaction answer, and if I wasn’t already so tense, I’d likely be shaking.
“Can’t or won’t.”
“Both,” I tell him, honestly.
His hand skims down my arm, fingers just barely grazing my wrist. A touch so light, so careful, it makes my heart squeeze.
“Ellie— ”
I pull away before he can finish. Before I do something reckless. Before I lose what little sense I have left.
Instead, I do the responsible thing and get inside my car.
“Why did you keep it?” he repeats. “Please.”
Before closing the door, my eyes lock with his one last time. “Like I said, some things are permanent.”
“You did what?!” Scottie screeches over FaceTime later that night, her voice piercing even through the connection. Still wearing her stage makeup, she looks half-crazed, her wide, blue eyes glued to the screen.
“Scotland, stop yelling!” I snap, wincing.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she sings with a sardonic edge. “It’s just that you went to Dom’s house after being adamant that you were going to avoid him at all costs. Excuse me for needing a moment to process this!”
I sigh, regretting the decision to bring it up at all, but grateful I left some parts out—like the part where I think he asked me out on a date. I’m keeping that one to myself.
Scottie and I barely have time to catch up these days, and I’m wasting our call talking about Dominic. We’ve been best friends since elementary school. A boy shoved her so then I shoved him and made him cry, the rest is history. She’s the only one who knows everything that happened between me and Dominic. She’s been there for me through being blissfully in love to devastatingly heartbroken, and everything in between.
Coming closer to the camera, her expression turns sly, her red hair falling in wisps as it unravels from a ballerina-esque bun. “Well? Don’t leave me hanging. What happened? Did you two finally have it out? Did he grovel? Did you grovel?”
“None of the above,” I mutter, shifting uncomfortably on the couch.
Her brows shoot up. “Wait. You said he had a girl over. Was she just some badge bunny or…?”
My forehead creases. “I literally have no idea what that means.”
Scottie laughs through her teeth. “It’s women who go after police officers, you know ‘guys with badges.’”
I shake my head. “No, he said she was a coworker. Not a badge bunny, more like she’s one of the badges.”
Scottie throws her hands in the air, nearly sending her phone flying. “Tell me everything. What does she look like? Is she pretty? I mean, probably not. You’re gorgeous, but, like, objectively.”
This is the downside of having a best friend who’s an actress. Scottie doesn’t just talk—she performs, every word infused with enough energy to power a small city. People think I’m dramatic, but then they meet Scottie and quickly realize I’m the calm one by comparison.
“She’s…pretty,” I admit reluctantly, picking at a loose thread on my sleeve. “Like the kind of girl you’d expect him to be with. Petite, fit, huge boobs. She looked Latina, likely Mexican, so I’m sure his mom will love that.”
Her eyes pinch. “But she’s just a coworker. If there was something going on between them, I think it would’ve been more obvious when you showed up. So, what if she’s pretty, she’s not you.”
“Yeah, I don’t know,” I sigh, slumping back into the cushions. “I shouldn’t even care. We’re not together. We haven’t been for years. For all I know, he’s had tons of girlfriends since me. ”
“But it still stings,” Scottie finishes for me, her voice losing some of its enthusiasm.
I nod, biting my lip. “It does. And I hate that it does. I’m so stupid for even going over there.”
“Stop it.” Her tone is resolute. “You’re not stupid.” She pauses a beat, and her head cocks to the side. “Why did you go? It’s very unlike you.”
My shoulders lift as I try to look uninterested. Sadly, I’m not as good of an actress as Scottie so she doesn’t buy my act for a second. “I wanted to see what the house looked like. And I thought because it’s a weekday, that he would be on duty. I figured I’d get a quick peek at it before heading into work.”
Her brows furrow. “So, the plan was to sneak around his house? That’s not weird at all.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, when you say it like that. It was going to be a simple drive by.”
Her lips twitch like she wants to laugh. “But you didn’t just drive bye, you got out of your car.”
“Okayyy,” I draw out the word. “That’s enough Dominic talk for tonight. Let’s focus on you—tell me everything.”
She looks like she wants to press further but knows me well enough to let it go. After a brief hesitation, she gives in and starts telling me about her latest performance and the improv group she’s been working with. She’s been in Chicago for the past five years, fully immersed in the city’s stage and improv scene.
We don’t get to see each other as often these days, with her across the country, but I usually make it out to visit a couple of times a year. Her parents still live in Red Mountain so she’s always back in town for the holidays. It doesn’t matter how much time passes between visits or calls—it always feels like we pick up right where we left off.
Eventually we call it a night, it’s late for me and even later for her.
As I finally crawl into bed, my gaze lingers on my wrist. I trace the letters with my fingertip, Dominic’s question hauntingly replaying. Why did you keep it? It’s not like it’s ever done me any favors in the dating department. Most men aren’t exactly thrilled about being with a woman literally branded with another man’s name. Probably why I’ve been ghosted more times than I can count.
I sigh, letting my hand fall to my stomach as I stare at the ceiling. Maybe I should have gotten rid of it years ago. Covered it up. Removed the evidence that, at one point, I was so in love with a guy I got my first and only tattoo. But every time I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
If I’m honest with myself, I think part of me feels like getting rid of it would be like erasing us. I’ll never love anyone the way I loved him—so free, so brave. A long time ago, I was a girl who was fearless enough to love with her whole heart, and every time I look at Dominic’s name on my wrist, I’m reminded of her, and I smile.