Chapter 47
Dominic
Four months later …
I’ve seen images of this place in books and online, but nothing can prepare you for the way it hits you; the space, noise and distance all at once. It makes you feel like you’ve stepped into something bigger than yourself.
Travelling around Australia has never been something that appealed to me, but fuck if I haven’t enjoyed this time away with my girls.
Before this trip, I’d never set foot outside New South Wales, and was completely ignorant of how much Australia has to offer.
When we loaded up the van and hit the road, we travelled north, stopping at Dubbo, Tamworth, and Coffs Harbour, before spending a few days in Byron Bay.
From there, we headed to the Gold Coast to visit Emily’s mother and that handsy stepfather of hers. It was a stop I had been looking forward to, and kind of dreading.
I’d promised my fiancé I’d be on my best behaviour, but I knew myself well enough to know how thin that promise really was. If he stared too long or let his hand linger where it shouldn’t, there was no way I was going to be able to ignore it.
I hadn’t even met the man by that stage, and I already wanted to hurt him.
He was hovering at the top of the list of things I needed to set right, where Emily was concerned.
I liked Emily’s mother the moment I met her. She was kind, welcoming, and adored Lil’ Peach. The fucker she was married to, on the other hand …
I stood back as Emily hugged her mother, but when her stepfather, Jonathon, moved in for his turn, I stepped in front of my fiancé, gently manoeuvering her behind me, and extended my hand to him instead.
The last thing I wanted to do was to touch this grub, but the alternative wasn’t an option. Rather me than her, and by some grace of God, I managed not to crush his hand, but I did squeeze hard enough to make him wince.
Over the course of lunch, though, the rage simmering beneath the surface continued to boil to a point where I was struggling to contain it.
I saw firsthand what a creeper he was. The way he could barely keep his eyes off my future bride, and the seemingly innocent touches whenever she was in reach.
Her mother was completely oblivious to it all, but I saw the way Emily grimaced or flinched whenever his filthy hands came into contact with her skin.
It took every ounce of strength I possessed not to lunge over the table and cave his skull in.
When I could take no more, I stood and looked down at my watch. “We’d better make tracks,” I said, locking eyes with Emily, and hoping she could see how much I was fighting the darkness that was threatening to break free.
Thankfully, she did.
Her mother rushed into the kitchen to pack some leftovers for us, and Emily followed. This gave me the perfect opportunity to make my feelings clear.
I rounded the table, and when I stopped in front of the man I was seriously trying not to kill, the prick stood and tentatively extended his hand to me again. It was a dumb move because this time I couldn’t restrain myself.
I took hold and compressed his hand so hard, I’m confident I heard a bone crack. He let out a groan of pain as perspiration dotted his forehead. It gave me immense pleasure as he tried and failed to pry his grubby hand from my grip.
I held on a moment longer as I leaned in close enough so he could hear me, “Touch my fiancé again, and next time I’ll rip your arm clean off, hai capito (Do you understand)?”
His face turned ghostly white, and when he nodded once, I let go.
When it was time to leave, Emily’s mum gave us all a hug and shed a few tears when she said goodbye to her daughter.
The fucktard she’s married to was smart enough to heed my warning. He stood back, cradling his hand against his chest, and wished us safe travels as we walked out the door; that was it.
His move, or lack thereof, was enough for Emily to give me a strange look, but nothing else was said.
Two hours later, her phone chimed, and she gasped as she read the message she had just received.
“Oh no,” she whispered.
“What?” I asked.
“It’s a message from my mum. She’s currently sitting in the emergency department at the hospital with my stepfather.
Apparently, he tripped after we left and broke his hand.
They’re waiting for the doctor to plaster it.
” When a mischievous grin curved my lip, she reached over and slapped my leg.
“That was mean,” she said, but I could hear her own smile behind her words.
“That’s not mean, mia tortina,” I replied. “It’s called karma.”
I glance down at my watch as I round the front of the van to open the passenger side door to help Emily down.
We’re a bit early, but it’ll give us half an hour to look around before the surprise I have for my future wife arrives.
Emily unbuckles her seatbelt when I reach her, and I lean into the cab, grasp her hips, and gently lift her out, placing her feet on the ground.
“You feeling okay? Still seedy?” I hate seeing her unwell.
“No, thankfully it’s passed.”
After we left her mother’s, we travelled to the top of Queensland, and followed the coastline into the Northern Territory.
We visited all the places that were on Emily’s list. Darwin, Kakadu National Park, Uluru.
The Top End is more tropical, known for its waterfalls and wildlife.
The Red Centre is desert and home to iconic landmarks.
As we travelled through the outback, Emily ran out of her birth control. Out there, it can be days before you see another town, let alone a pharmacy. We checked every roadhouse we passed, to no avail, so I had to revert to pulling out until we could rectify that problem.
I guess I failed at that task—or my boys are just phenomenal swimmers—because we found out eight weeks ago that Emily is pregnant.
Although it was a gamble by not using birth control, it wasn’t really a shock. Something settled in my chest, a kind of happiness I’d never felt before in my life.
I was going to be a father … again.
I wanted this with her.
I wanted it more than I expected to.
I wanted to expand our little family.
But more than anything, I wanted to be tied to this woman for the rest of my life, in a way that can never be undone.
That may sound unhinged, but my obsession for Emily Ashford grows stronger with each passing day. It’s a little unhealthy, but I don’t care. She’s my world.
“It’s so beautiful here,” Emily says, wrapping her arms around herself and taking a few steps towards the cliff’s edge as I move to open the back door to collect Lil’ Peach.
I swear she says that everywhere we stop, but she’s right, it is.
My niece points to the cat carrier as I unbuckle her from her booster seat and lift her out. “Fat Cat, come to.”
My eyes dart to him, and when he meows in agreement, I roll my lips to hide my disdain for that not-so-fat feline.
Turns out I was right all along—the entire neighbourhood was apparently feeding him, because over the past four months of eating a balanced diet—two small meals a day—he’s lost half his body weight and about ninety percent of his personality.
He carries on like he’s being starved, meowing at the bowl, pacing in circles, and collapsing onto the floor in full protest when he doesn’t get his way.
That furry little cunt is even moodier than me, and that’s saying something.
“He has to stay in the van,” I tell Peach as I pass her to Emily. He’s so dramatic he might decide to make a run for it or throw himself over the edge of the cliff. If that happens, I’ll be the one left picking up the pieces when it breaks my girls’ hearts.
I let him out of his carrier, though, so he can use the litter box. Thankfully, all the food is locked away, in case his greedy side gets any ideas.
He’s been a godsend to Peach, keeping her company during the long, daily drives.
Emily’s standing in front of me, and my arms are wrapped protectively around her middle. My niece is perched on my shoulders, as we gaze out at the vast ocean before us.
I feel ignorant for never knowing how much this country of ours has to offer, its endless beauty stretching as far as the eye can see. I feel small in it all, almost insignificant. The world has been here long before me and will keep going long after I’m gone, and that is a sobering thought.
I’m pulled from my heavy headspace when I hear the distant chop of a helicopter behind us.
It starts faint, easy to miss over the wind, but it grows louder and sharper as it gets closer. I smile to myself, because I already know who it is.
I turn towards it, bringing Emily with me.
“Wow,” she says as it descends, readying itself to land.
“Imagine the view they’d get from up there.
” I don’t reply; instead, I find myself holding my breath, because what if she doesn’t like this surprise?
What if all of this backfires in my face? “We should try that sometime.”
“Yeah.”
“Would you like to go up in a helicopter, sweet girl?” Emily asks Peach.
“Copta,” Lil’ Peach squeals.
A cloud of dust swirls around the ground as the helicopter comes down to land. The windows are tinted so we can’t see inside.
The rotors begin to slow once they touch down, and as soon as the side door opens and a crazy, petite Italian starts waving like the lunatic she is, I chuckle.
“Oh my God, Lucia,” Emily breathes as she starts running in her direction.
“Lu-Lu,” my niece squeals as she squirms on my shoulders, letting me know she wants to get down.
I release the breath I’m holding and stroll towards our friends, all the while hoping I haven’t got too far ahead of myself by bringing them here.
I’ve finally accepted that Emily does, in fact, love me. I feel it every single day. I still don’t know how or why, but is her love strong enough to last a lifetime? Fuck, I hope so.
Because, for all the certainty I try to carry, there’s still that quiet part of me that doesn’t fully believe I get to keep good things.
I can’t help but worry that at some point, when I’m least expecting it, someone will realise they’ve made a mistake by giving me these blessings, and rip them all away.