Chapter 20
Mila
When Sofia called me last night saying she had something urgent to tell me, my first thought was that she’d caught Dean cheating.
I was stunned, however, when she proceeded to give me a quick rundown of the incident between him and Jason at the restaurant.
I tried pressing her for more details, but she was adamant that it had to be discussed in person.
Then out of nowhere, as if sensing he was the topic of conversation, Dean messaged me, saying how deeply sorry he was for taking his anger out on me and hurting me.
He kept apologising, insisting he never meant to cause me pain and hoping I could find it in me to forgive him.
I didn’t know what to say, and it wasn’t the kind of conversation to have over the phone, so I told him I’d speak with him the next time I saw him.
All night I tossed and turned, unable to get a single ounce of sleep, consumed by thoughts of what might have happened at Jason’s restaurant. I thought about it so much that I felt like I was losing my mind.
When it was time to meet Sofia for breakfast, I practically rushed over to our usual café and demanded she get straight to the point. Afterall, she’d already made me wait all night.
Now, here I am, sitting across from my best friend while she recounts every detail of last night’s incident at Jason’s restaurant, my mind spinning with unanswered questions.
What caused Jason to snap like that? And what did he say to Dean to make his face go pale as a ghost?
The sound of Sofia’s sigh pulls me from my thoughts.
“You know Dean. He never thinks before he speaks—just blurts out whatever’s on his mind even if it comes across offensive.
But it was Jason’s reaction that was completely unexpected.
He literally turned into the Incredible Hulk, Mila.
It was pretty scary... and a little hot.
” She snorts, laughing. “If you ask me, it almost seemed like he was looking for an excuse to beat Dean up,” Sofia declares.
I try to grasp everything she’s sharing, running through all the possible reasons Jason might have snapped the way he did.
Then suddenly, it hits me. The bruises. Jason must’ve figured out that it came from Dean.
I should’ve known he wouldn’t let it slide.
He is an ex-cop, after all. He’ll dig and dig until he uncovers the truth, no matter what.
If things between Dean and him were bad before, I’m afraid they’ve only gotten worse from here on out.
“What happened after? When Jason kicked him out of the restaurant?” I ask.
“We drove Dean home, and on the way to his place, Brody asked him what the hell was going on between him and Jason. And all he said was that Jason has always had it out for him ever since he started dating you. He didn’t say much after that, but I could sense his mind was racing.”
Fuck! I need to talk to Dean. I have to know if he’s okay. He hasn’t messaged or called me since that text last night, and I’m starting to get worried. Dean always checks in with me every morning without fail, so his silence right now is deafening.
“I’ll give him a call once I get home. He’s been quiet all morning and that’s not like him.”
Sofia shrugs. “Last night probably took it out of him. He certainly wasn’t expecting the night to go down like that. I’m sure his ego is a little wounded. Just give him time.”
I force out a smile, and nervously start pulling on my sleeves, as if my bruises are suddenly going to burn through the fabric.
Sofia watches me fidget, a flicker of worry in her gaze. “Look, I know it’s not really my place, but… you’ll tell me if there’s something going on with Dean, right?”
I hesitate, pressing my lips together. How do I tell my best friend that there’s another side to Dean that nobody knows about.
One that is violent and threatening, and that only emerges when he’s in a fit of jealous rage?
How do I tell her that he can’t even control his own temper, let alone recognise when he’s actually hurting someone?
The truth is I can’t tell her any of this, no matter how desperately I want to. She’ll only blame herself, carrying immense guilt for introducing us in the first place and encouraging the relationship between Dean and me.
Besides, it’s only ever been that one time. I’m sure that after what went down last night with Jason, Dean has learnt his lesson the hard way. He’s apologised profusely ever since, and I genuinely believe he means it.
“Of course,” I reassure my best friend. “But you have nothing to worry about, Sof.
What happened at the restaurant was just two testosterone-fuelled men, who have disliked each other from the start. It’s probably their big egos taking full control of their brains.”
She looks half convinced, but she nods anyway. “Well, one thing’s for sure... they can’t be in the same room together ever again.”
I shake my head and laugh. “Damn straight, sister. Damn fucking straight.”
I finally got a text from Dean later in the afternoon, asking if he could come over. I wasn’t in the mood to see him so soon after the incident in my room two nights ago, but knowing him, he probably won’t take no for an answer. So, I agreed.
It’s 6 p.m. sharp when the sound of the door unlocking signals Dean’s arrival.
He steps into the apartment wearing a navy hoodie and light blue ripped jeans.
Tonight, he has a black baseball cap pulled low instead of his hair being perfectly styled as usual, and the look on his face tells me he hasn’t had a wink of sleep either.
“Hey.” I smile at him from where I’m sitting on the couch, watching TV.
He saunters over and immediately pulls me up, wrapping me in a hug. His nose sinks into my neck as he breathes me in.
“God, it feels so good holding you in my arms again. I’ve missed you so much.”
I let out a small laugh. “It’s only been two days, babe.”
“That’s two days too long.” He pulls back slightly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear, careful to avoid the small bump and bruise on my forehead from hitting the doorframe. Then he leans down for a kiss—long and deep, just like every time he kisses me.
After what feels like a good three minutes of intense making-out, we finally break apart.
“Something smells really good.” He lifts his nose, sniffing the air.
“I ordered your favourite cashew nut chicken. Go take a seat on the couch. I’ll bring your meal to you.”
He does as I say while I plate the food and pour wine into our glasses, then carry them over to the coffee table one by one.
“Thanks, baby,” he says with a warm smile, his gaze slowly taking in my outfit—an olive-green quarter-sleeved dress. “And may I just add how incredibly beautiful you look tonight.”
I feel my cheeks flush, and I quickly look away as I take a seat beside him. When I hand Dean his plate, his gaze latches onto the dark, purplish bruises on my wrists. His eyebrows furrow, his eyes hard, guilt etched across his face.
“Dean—”
“I’m a bastard,” he cuts me off, shaking his head like he’s disgusted with himself.
“I’m a fucking bastard for doing that to you.
” He reaches over and gently strokes my wrist. “I should’ve never grabbed you like that.
I should’ve never lost my cool and shoved you.
There’s no excuse for what I did, and for that, I’m sorry.
I’m so fucking sorry, Mila.” His voice catches on the last part, and that’s when I notice the tears welling in his eyes.
My expression softens a little. Regret shadows his face, remorse colouring every word, and despite myself, I can’t help but feel a pang of pity for him.
Placing my hand on his, I exhale a deep breath.
“You’re right, Dean. You should’ve never lost control the way you did.
And you should’ve never, ever laid a hand on me.
” I pause when Dean wipes a tear from his face with his hand.
“While it’s going to take some time for me to rebuild that trust with you again, I’m willing to give you another chance.
But you have to work on that anger of yours, because make no mistake, Dean, if you ever hurt me again, it’s over between us. ”
He swallows heavily, then slowly nods. “I swear to you, Mila. I’ll never hurt you again. I’d rather die than see the pain and fear in your eyes like I did that night. I promise I’ll work on getting my anger under control. You have my word.”
As much as I want to believe him, I can’t. I have to protect myself first and foremost.
His words mean nothing until I see him putting in the work and getting the help he needs.
“I want to believe you, Dean. But it’s going to take more than just your word.”
“I’ll show you, baby. I’ll show you that I can change.”
I nod, still not completely convinced, but willing to give him another chance. “Okay, we can try again,” I reply, glancing down at our untouched meal. “Now, let’s eat before the food gets cold.”
He lets out a soft chuckle, then leans in to press a tender kiss on my lips. “I love you,” he whispers. “And I’m going to show you that I’m worthy of a second chance.”
I just smile and nod, silently praying and hoping that too.