Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Mona D’Souza felt her tummy roll and dive as she walked towards her husband of twenty-four years. Every inch of her thrummed as if she was embarking on a first date with a man she’d crushed on in secret.
Which was ridiculous because Dominic was her first and only lover, had seen her give birth to their twins, and had transformed from a reserved, brilliant nerd to a dynamic, generous entrepreneur. Except somewhere along the years, he’d left her behind and forged on alone.
Breathing deeply, she slowed her stride and took in the intimate, rustic charm of the familiar bistro. Twinkling fairy lights draped across exposed beams and window frames, and a cheerful Christmas tree created a magical, festive ambiance. The scent of pine mingled with the aromas of freshly baked bread, rich sauces, and roasted meats.
She was glad Dominic had chosen this place for their reunion. For nearly thirty years, the cozy family-owned bistro has stood resiliently in this corner of Seattle, fighting against gentrification and evolving trends, a testament to quality and time.
Back then, they had to save their pennies for a year to afford an appetizer and a drink here. Now Dom could probably buy the restaurant if he wished. But the magic between them…was it gone forever?
For weeks now, she had been on tenterhooks about seeing him again, about leaning into his body and letting him hold her, about kissing him. About grabbing onto him and never letting go, ever again.
But this summer, being on her own for the first time since she’d been eighteen, had provided her with a clarity she hadn’t known in years. That their marriage had become a stagnant wasteland, mired in resignation and complacency, was on them both.
She would do whatever it took to fix it, to get the Dominic she had once adored back. It had to begin with her telling him how much he had hurt her. Even though it was the last thing she wanted to begin their cozy Christmas eve dinner with.
* * *
“Hey,” she said, reaching him, the word a husky croak.
For what felt like an eternity but couldn’t have been over ten heartbeats, Dom stared at her.
His deep-set gaze swept over her face, over the pulse frantically fluttering at her neck, lingering over her lips.
When he pushed to his feet, light limned the breadth of his shoulders, highlighted by the thick, faded red sweater she recognized. She’d knitted it for him nearly two decades ago when all they could afford were cheap, handmade gifts.
He looked both familiar and... foreign in a way she didn’t understand. But her body instantly responded, pleasure uncoiling deep in her belly.
Had eight months changed him drastically or was she just starved for the sight of him?
Eyes shimmering brightly and skin gleaming, he looked eons better than when she’d left him at the beginning of summer. His features had lost the pinching tightness he’d gained during her recovery and his chest looked like…he had filled out. He fairly radiated good health and happiness.
A jolt of juvenile anger shot through her, battling it out with the stringent awareness of him. Clearly, their separation had worked wonders for him while she had missed him with a desperate ache.
“You look good,” she said sullenly.
“Mona, right?” With nearly a foot differential in their heights, she’d always felt small and dainty around him. And it hit her afresh, that sensation of being engulfed in his heat and the intensity of his gaze. “Your pic on the app doesn’t do you justice. You’re…so much more beautiful in person.” His deep voice reverberated with excitement.
Mona stared at him wordlessly. Had her husband achieved a new personality along with the smoking hot bod?
He stuck his hand out, ignoring her dumbstruck silence. “I’m Dom. I haven’t been on a first date in…oh God, twenty-odd years, I think.” His large hand, with its elegant fingers, hung in the space between them while her mind whirred. He pushed his other hand through his hair, making the wavy strands stand up. “Excuse me if I sound nervous.”
Her desire to touch him won out over the confusion.
She wasn’t just horny, but desperate for his touch.
The hard squeeze of his abrasive fingers sent a needy clench through her lower belly. Also, how had he grown calluses when he worked with computers all day long?
“First date?” she said.
His thumb traced the veins on the inside of her wrist before releasing her hand. This close, she could see the fine lines of tension bracketing his mouth.
“Yep.” His brown eyes held hers. “At the risk of TMI on a first date, I’ve been starting over in…life. This date is one of the new things I’m trying. Your profile said you’re looking for fun and adventure.”
A thrill jolted down her spine as his words sunk in. Along with a hefty dose of surprise.
Her husband excelled at designing new apps and technology, in holding a thousand details together in his computer-like brain, in forecasting markets and trends. Not in impulsive gestures and thrill chasing.
“Yeah, sure. I’m up for…anything,” she replied, staring at him anew. “And I understand the need to start over.”
His eyes shimmered with endless things he didn’t say. “Yeah?”
She nodded and slid into the semi-circular booth until she sat on his left. Placing her clutch on the table, she rubbed her cold palms together and looked around.
Set over a small set of stairs and apart from the rest of the tables, the cozy booth had a nearly three-sixty-degree view of the restaurant and of the snow transforming the streets into winter wonderland. The cheery atmosphere made her keenly aware of the little bubble of tension between them.
When the waitress appeared, they chose a bunch of appetizers—a habit leftover from when they could ill afford expensive dishes.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Dom said, without meeting her eyes.
Nodding, Mona took in the familiar light brown flecks in his eyes, the sharp angle of his jaw, the dent at the end of his long beak of a nose that he had gained during freshman year at UW.
Then there were all the ways he’d changed in eight months. His thick wavy hair piled on top with the sides shaved. The designer cut suited him as did the contacts replacing his nerdy glasses. The red sweater sat snugly across his shoulders.
Apparently, her husband had gotten quite the makeover.
Had he thought she’d left him because she didn’t find him attractive anymore? Or was this the sustainable change she’d hoped for in his lifestyle?
She took a sip of her ice-cold water to arrest the questions piling up.
Arm thrown over the seat behind him, Dom faced her. “So, tell me about yourself.”
“Like what?” Mona demanded sharply, then sighed. “I’m not used to first dates either,” she said, aiming for honesty.
“I’ll go then.” He grinned, his enthusiasm apparently endless. “Recently, I’ve discovered carpentry as a new hobby.”
That explained the calluses on his palms. “You don’t look like the pic you shared on the app either,” she said, borrowing his idea.
His expression turned sheepish. “My life fell apart a few months ago. I lost something…precious, and it became a wake-up call. I’ve been focusing on eating better and working out and…on being present for those who need me.”
A tight ache clamped her throat, and she cleared it. “You look great.”
His grin bloomed wider. “Thanks.”
If curiosity was her first flaw, being competitive about everything was her second. No way was he going to show her up with his transformative summer. It was high time she shared her dreams and needs too. “My summer has been full of research and just plain fun for a project. It’s been challenging but also a dream come true. I’m finally doing something I’ve wanted to do for years.”
“A dream come true.” His grin dimmed. “Care to share it?”
“Far too intimate for a first date,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s a privilege to know all of me.”
His thick brows drew down into a frown. Slowly, something utterly wicked lit up his gaze.
Their waitress appeared, her tray teeming with their drinks and appetizers.
When she left, Mona picked up the glass of red wine and held it up. “To starting over.”
Dom muttered, “Wait.”
He dove into the insides of the navy blazer lying on the seat and pulled out a package of the sulfite removing sticks she used to carry around before she’d gotten sick and stopped drinking.
Her wine glass shook as she stared at him. “You’re carrying those?”
“Don’t want you to get that blasted headache tomorrow,” he said, opening one and dipping it into the wine.
Mona looked away as tears prickled.
Not a big surprise that her responsible, super-protective, ultra-provider husband remembered she got awful headaches on red wine or that he would carry them in case she showed up tonight, and in case she wanted to drink her favorite wine. And yet, when she’d truly needed him…he had let her down.
“Mona?”
She swallowed her doubts and clinked her glass against his. “I don’t know what to say.”
He shook his head and tucked the sticks away. “Nope. Not talking about the blip into that parallel universe.”
She laughed, a thousand feelings tangling up in her chest. With a lock of hair falling onto his forehead, his gummy grin wide and real, he looked achingly gorgeous.
Leaning close, he tangled his arm through hers. “Merry Christmas, fantasy girl. Here’s to starting over.”