11. Sofia
11
SOFIA
A s I stand there in Dom’s arms, listening to his words of hope and commitment, I feel a wave of relief wash over me. Just moments ago, I was consumed with fear and dread, terrified that our marriage was doomed before it even began.
I was so afraid that Dom would reject me, that he would send me back to my father in disgrace. The thought of failing to fulfill my father’s dying wish, of being a terrible daughter who couldn’t even make her arranged marriage work… it was almost too much to bear.
But now, hearing Dom say that he wants to try again, that he believes we can make this marriage work… it’s like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. A glimmer of hope, flickering to life.
“I’m so glad you feel that way,” I murmur, looking up at him with shining eyes. “I was so scared that you would give up on us, that you would decide I wasn't worth the effort.”
Dom shakes his head, his expression soft and tender. “Never, Sofia. I made a vow to you, and I intend to keep it. For better or for worse, remember?”
He takes a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he's about to say. “I know we have a lot of work to do, a lot of trust to rebuild. But I'm willing to put in the effort if you are.”
“I am,” I say firmly, my voice ringing with conviction. “I want to make this work, Dom.”
He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way I’ve always loved. “Then let's start by getting to know each other again. We've both changed so much over the years, grown into different people. But that doesn't mean we can't find new things to love about each other.”
I tilt my head, intrigued by the idea. “What did you have in mind?”
“Let's go on a proper date,” he suggests, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “We can catch up on all the things we've been doing, talk about our new interests and hobbies. Really take the time to rediscover each other.”
I blink in surprise, taken aback by the suggestion. A date? With my own husband? It seems so strange, so formal after everything we've been through.
But the more I think about it, the more I find myself warming to the idea. A chance to start fresh, to build something new and beautiful from the ashes of our past.
“I'd like that,” I say softly, feeling a flutter of excitement in my stomach. “It's been so long since we've really talked, really connected on a deeper level.”
Dom nods, his expression serious. “I know. And I'm sorry for that, Sofia. I'm sorry for all the ways I've failed you, all the times I've let you down.”
I reach up and cup his cheek, feeling the rough stubble beneath my palm. “I'm sorry too, Dom. For the way I've pushed you away, the way I've held on to my anger and resentment.”
He leans into my touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “We've both made mistakes. But that's in the past now. What matters now is what we do going forward.”
I nod, feeling a sense of determination wash over me. “You're right.”
Dom pulls back, looking at me softly. “Go get dressed, Sof, and meet me by the stairs in about fifteen minutes.”
Fifteen minutes? I want to squawk that it’s not enough time to look even a bit presentable, but I instead turn on my heel and hurry back up to the bedroom. He’s given me a challenge, and I intend to meet it.
As I head upstairs to change for our impromptu date, my mind is whirling with a mix of emotions. Surprise, certainly, at Dom’s suggestion that we try to rekindle our feelings for each other. But also a flicker of excitement, a spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, we can find a new love, one that’s better than what we once shared.
I rifle through my clothes, which had arrived from my family home during the wedding, searching for the perfect outfit. I want to look as enticing and beautiful as possible, to remind Dom of the girl he fell in love with all those years ago.
Finally, I settle on a flowing sundress in a soft shade of pink, with delicate lace detailing and a sweetheart neckline that shows off just a hint of cleavage. I pair it with strappy sandals and a wide-brimmed hat, my dark hair tumbling down my back in loose waves.
I look at myself in the mirror as I apply my makeup and nod approvingly. Not bad for fifteen minutes.
When I descend the stairs, Dom is waiting for me at the bottom, his eyes widening as he takes in the sight of me. His mouth drops open slightly, and I feel a thrill of satisfaction and smugness at the obvious effect I’m having on him.
I’ve always known I’m beautiful—I take after my mother, who is renowned as one of the most stunning women in our social circle. But to see that I still have the power to render Dom speechless, even after all these years… it’s a satisfying feeling.
“You look… incredible,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with emotion.
I smile, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks. “Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.”
And it’s true. Dom is dashingly handsome in a crisp white shirt and dark pants, his hair tousled just so in that effortlessly sexy way of his. I want to run my fingers through it, tug on the strands like I used to.
“So, what did you have in mind for our date?” I ask, feeling a flutter of nerves in my stomach.
Dom grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. “How do you feel about horseback riding? I thought we could take a ride out into the woods like we used to do when I would visit you at your father’s estate.”
I raise an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Horseback riding? Are you sure you’re up for that? It looks like it’s been a while since you’ve been in the saddle.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Oh, I think I can handle it. The question is, can you keep up?”
I scoff, placing a hand on my hip. “Please. I could outrun you any day, Dominico Sicura. Care to put your money where your mouth is?”
His grin widens, and he offers me his arm. “Challenge accepted, Sofia Sicura. Let’s see what you’ve got.” He leans in, his lips tickling the shell of my ear. “Although I would prefer your mouth to be somewhere else.”
I nearly trip over my feet, ignoring Dom’s low, sensual laughter.
We head out to the stables, where two beautiful horses are waiting for us. As we mount up and set off into the woods, I can’t help but look around at the Sicura estate, taking in the sprawling grounds and grand architecture.
It’s not quite as picturesque as my family’s estate, with its lush gardens and sparkling fountains. But there’s a rugged beauty to it, a sense of history and tradition that speaks to me on a deep level.
I can picture myself here, I realize with a start. I can imagine building a life with Dom in this place, making it our own and filling it with love and laughter.
It's a daunting thought, a prospect that both thrills and terrifies me, but as we ride side by side through the dappled sunlight, the wind whipping through our hair and the sound of birds chirping in the air, I can’t help but feel a sense of rightness. A sense that maybe, just maybe, this is exactly where I’m meant to be.
I also can’t help but feel a sense of peace wash over me. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this way, so long since I’ve allowed myself to simply enjoy the moment without the weight of the past bearing down on me.
Dom leads us to a secluded spot, a small clearing nestled among the trees. And there, spread out on the grass, is a picnic blanket laden with all sorts of delicious-looking food.
I slide off my horse, my eyes widening with surprise and delight. “What’s all this?”
Dom grins, looking pleased with himself. “I thought we could enjoy a little picnic, just the two of us. I had the cook prepare all your favorite dishes.”
I step closer to the blanket, taking in the spread before me. There’s a basket of freshly baked bread, still warm from the oven. A platter of ripe, juicy fruit—strawberries, grapes, and slices of melon. A selection of cured meats and aged cheeses, arranged artfully on a wooden board.
And there, in the center of it all, is a dish that makes my heart skip a beat. “Is that…?”
Dom nods, his smile softening. “Pasta primavera. Your favorite, if I remember correctly.”
I stare at him, feeling a lump form in my throat. “You remembered.”
He shrugs, looking almost shy. “Of course I did. I’ve never forgotten anything about you, Sofia. Not your favorite foods, or your favorite flowers, or the way you used to smile at me when we were alone together.”
I feel a rush of emotion wash over me, a mix of gratitude and guilt. All this time, I’ve been so focused on my own pain, my own anger and resentment. But I never stopped to consider that maybe, just maybe, Dom has been hurting too, that he’s been holding on to the memories of our past, just as I have.
“Thank you,” I murmur, feeling a bit awkward. “This is… really thoughtful of you.”
He gestures for me to sit, and I sink down onto the blanket, careful not to spill the glass of wine he’s just poured for me. As we begin to eat, savoring each bite and sipping our wine, I can’t help but marvel at how natural this feels, how easy it is to slip back into the old rhythm of our relationship, to laugh and talk and simply enjoy each other’s company.
Maybe I've been too hard on him , I muse silently. Maybe I’ve been clinging to the past, to the hurt and betrayal, instead of giving him a chance to prove that he’s changed, that he’s not the same man who broke my heart all those years ago.
Dom reaches into the basket and pulls out a ripe, juicy strawberry. He holds it up to my lips, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Open wide,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky.
I oblige, parting my lips and allowing him to place the strawberry in my mouth. The burst of sweetness on my tongue is almost as intoxicating as the look in his eyes, the way he watches me as I bite down and savor the fruit.
Feeling bold, I pluck a grape from the platter and hold it up to his lips in return. “Your turn,” I whisper, feeling a thrill of excitement run through me.
He takes the grape into his mouth, his lips brushing against my fingertips in a way that sends shivers down my spine. As he chews, he never takes his eyes off me, his gaze smoldering with a heat that I feel all the way to my core.
We continue like this, feeding each other bits of bread and cheese, slivers of cured meat and slices of ripe fruit. With each morsel, the tension between us grows, the air crackling with a sensual energy that’s impossible to ignore.
Dom picks up some pasta primavera with his fork, twirling it expertly before holding it up to my mouth. As I take the bite, I can’t help but let out a little moan of pleasure at the explosion of flavors on my tongue.
“Good?” he asks, his voice rough with desire.
I nod, swallowing the mouthful before leaning in closer to him. “Delicious. But not as delicious as this.”
And then I'm kissing him, my lips crashing against his with a hunger that takes us both by surprise. He responds instantly, his arms coming around me to pull me closer, his tongue delving deep into my mouth as he explores every inch of me.
The picnic is forgotten as we lose ourselves in each other, our hands roaming and our bodies pressing together with a desperate need. I can feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the hard planes of his chest and the ripple of his muscles as he holds me close.
It’s intoxicating, the way he makes me feel. Like I’m the only woman in the world, the only one he’s ever wanted or needed. And even though I know it's just physical, I can’t help but crave it with every fiber of my being.
It’s wrong, I know it is. I shouldn’t be giving in to this, shouldn't be allowing myself to feel anything for him just yet. He hasn’t earned it yet. We’re still getting to know each other again.
But as his tongue sweeps into my mouth, as his hands slide down my back to pull me flush against him, I can't help but surrender to the heat that's building between us.
We're married now, after all, and whatever else may lie between us, whatever hurts and betrayals we've endured… this is still a part of my duty as his wife.
To give myself to him, body and soul. To find pleasure in his touch, in the way he makes me feel.
The chemistry that simmers between us, the desire that pulses through my veins whenever he's near, it’s still there.
It's not love , I tell myself firmly. It's just physical attraction, just a biological response to a handsome man who knows how to push all my buttons.
But as Dom lowers me back onto the blanket, his body covering mine as he deepens the kiss… I can't help but wonder.
Is it really so wrong to want this? To crave the touch of my own husband, the man I’m bound to for the rest of my days?
Maybe, just maybe… it’s okay to let myself have this.
To surrender to the passion, to the pleasure, to the fire that still burns between us.
Even if it’s only for a moment, even if it’s only a fleeting glimpse of the love we once shared.
It’s better than nothing.
And right now, in this moment… it’s all I have to hold on to.