23. Dominic
DOMINIC
I t’s been two weeks since I last saw the love of my life, Celeste Evans—wife of the late Colin Coleson.
The man who had saved my life without a second thought.
I can barely eat.
Forget sleeping. I wake up every hour.
At first, I canceled my patients for the first week after the breakup, telling them that I had a severe form of COVID that caused secondary infections. It was a bold-faced lie.
Week two, I returned to work half-heartedly.
I feel numb now, having lost the only person who’s mattered to me in years. Today, I barely stumble through my morning load of patients before I tell my receptionist I’m heading home and to cancel my one afternoon client.
After a long nap, I wake up to eat two day old pizza and watch Ren and Stimpy without Este. It feels wrong. My house misses the sound of her musical laughter and so does my soul.
When I can’t take it anymore, I head outside.
I’m sitting alone in the hot tub I used to share with Este, thankfully wearing a pair of trunks, when Gwen arrives. Her face is all straight lines and hard stares.
“Finn called.”
Great.
“He told me the veterans he’s moved into the tiny houses need care, and you aren’t returning his calls. He’s worried.”
Fuck Finn.
Fuck him for calling Gwen.
Pit bull she is; she continues. “You’re lucky you don’t have kids to ruin, because when my ex left without a word, I didn’t have the luxury of sitting in a pile of my tears, feeling sorry for myself.
I had three kids to raise, with almost no help at all—kids who had questions, probably the same kind Reed does right now.
I think about how this is affecting her.
How is this affecting the veterans you promised to help?
Your life isn’t all about you, no matter how much you think it is.
You have people relying on you, and you’re being pathetic.
Get off your ass, Dom, and fulfill your obligations. ”
“Quite the pep talk.” I sigh and sink deeper into the hot water.
“I know you’re devastated. I’ve been there, you know.
Married to someone who walked away, for reasons still unknown, left to deal with heartbreak so sharp I thought it would kill me.
Maybe you get a week or two to feel sorry for yourself.
Three, to be generous. But then you get up, you put one foot in front of the other, and you prove to yourself and everyone else that you’re the kind of man worthy of Este. ”
“She won’t come back to me,” I say softly.
“You don’t know that. Only she and the universe know the deepest feelings in her heart, but I believe she loves you.”
“But love isn’t always enough, is it? Not when you’re the reason her husband died.”
“I know. Mallory told me.” Gwen stands by the hot tub. “You’re all red, probably overheated. Get out of there. Put some clothes on. I brought wings and beer.”
I wrench myself from the tub and go in search of anything clean. That takes some time to accomplish, and when I leave my room, I find Gwen in my kitchen, cleaning. Dinner is spread out on the now-clean table, and she points at the food, telling me to go ahead and eat.
The smell of the wings reminds me that I am hungry. I’m sure I’ve been hungry for weeks, but I haven’t had the heart to enjoy anything. Nothing is right without Este. Nothing.
My sister looks over her shoulder and sees me devouring back the wings.
“I’m glad you’re eating. You know, Mallory says Este has poured her heartbreak into her books.
She finished the book she was working on when you were last together, as well as another one since then.
She’s barely leaving her house, hardly eating.
Mal is sleeping in her guest room, trying to keep an eye on her.
She had to get Reed ready for camp because Este was too distracted. Too devastated.”
My stomach hurts. From the wings or the information, I’m not sure which. I hate the fact that she is hurting, and I’m the reason, but I’m glad she’s doing what she loves.
“Become a man she’ll want to come back to,” Gwen repeats her earlier sentiment.
“Take a shower. Clean your clothes. Call Finn back, for God’s sake.
You’re so close to achieving the veteran community you’ve always dreamed of.
Este’s husband didn’t save you for you to sit around in your snot and tears, okay?
Do something with the one life you’ve got, with the second chance he gave you. ”
Tears roll down my cheeks when I realize I’ve been wasting that second chance. I’ve failed to be the man I told Este I was. Even if she never comes back to me, I can’t keep up this bullshit.
So I get up while Gwen keeps cleaning the kitchen and throw a load of laundry in the washing machine. It’s a small step, but a good enough start.
Tomorrow, I’ll make better use of the time I’ve been gifted.