30. Dom
Dom
I tighten my grip on Amara as I climb the stairs, her soft body cradled against my chest. She’s light in my arms, almost fragile. I’ve carried her before but tonight feels different. Her hair cascades over my arm, and her face is close to my neck.
“I just couldn’t quiet my mind,” she whispers, her breath warm against my skin. She inhales deeply. “You smell nice. Did you have a date tonight?”
I almost laugh at the question. “No, not a date. Business.”
I inhale. She smells of something floral and sweet. The scent of her shampoo or body wash fills my nostrils.
“Milly said you left angry.” Her fingers fiddle with the collar of my shirt. “Was it because of me?”
“No, piccola. Your mom.” I pause at the top of the stairs. “She had a false wedding certificate made up then had it sent over from Mexico.”
Amara’s eyes round. “You really never got married? Why did you go through with it all?”
I continue walking down the hallway toward her bedroom. “It’s a long story and the person who needs to tell you more is Lia. Once you have your memory back, you have so much to learn.”
Her hand moves to my face, fingers tracing along my jawline. “I do? Why not tell me? Give me something to know that I never knew before.”
I stop outside her door, swallowing hard as I decide whether to tell her or not. The weight of the truth sitting heavy on my tongue.
“Your mom, Helena, is your stepmother. Your real mother is called Aurora Moretti.”
Her eyes widen, lips parting in shock. I know I should’ve kept my mouth shut.
“Fuck! What did I tell you that for?”
“It’s fine,” she says quickly. “Lia did mention that she has a lot to tell me once I’m ready to hear it. That’s what she must have been talking about.”
I reach for her doorknob, but she tightens her grip on my shirt. Her eyes drift to my bedroom door at the end of the hall, and she whispers, “Can I sleep in your room? I can sleep on your couch, and I promise I don’t snore. I just want to feel safe.”
I hesitate, knowing I should say no, but the pleading look in her eyes breaks my resolve. Without a word, I turn and carry her to my bedroom. Her slight weight is comforting in my arms. Her fingers clutch my shirt like she’s afraid I’ll put her down and leave her alone.
“Why are you suddenly so scared to be in the house?” I ask, my voice low. “This isn’t like you.”
She bites her lip, hesitating. “I found a diary. My diary.”
I smile. Loving that she is being honest with me. I know she did because I check the footage of her bedroom every night. I saw her hiding it on the blade of the ceiling fan.
“Was there something inside it that scares you?”
“You were mentioned in there.”
“I was?”
“Well I called you big D, but I know it was you because you’re the biggest person I know.”
“So big D stands for big Dom? Nothing else?”
Her eyes pop open wide at the realization of what else it could mean.
“Oh my god.”
I laugh. “What did you say about Big D and we can work out if it means me.”
She covers her face with her hands. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Come on, piccola. It might help with your memory.”
“It said...” she peeks through her fingers, “it said I had dreams about Big D. That sometimes I imagined what it would be like if...” She stops, her cheeks flaming red.
I gently sit her on the edge of my bed. Her hands drop to her lap, fingers twisting together nervously.
“I think I wrote it before the accident,” she whispers. “But there was other stuff too. About being watched. About someone threatening me.”
I frown. “Who was threatening you?”
“I don’t know. The diary didn’t say. Just that I was scared, and I had to get information on you. That’s why I can tell you. I know you didn’t hurt me.”
“I didn’t.” I brush a strand of hair from her face. “But it’s why you can’t sleep. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Right now, you need to sleep. I’ll be back after I’ve had a shower. I stink of smoke.”
She nods, eyes darting around my room like she’s cataloging everything.
“Make yourself comfortable,” I tell her. “I won’t be long.”
“On your bed?”
“Will you feel safer on the couch?”
She shakes her head.
In the bathroom, I stand under the hot spray, letting it wash away the tension in my shoulders. When I’m done, I wrap a towel around my waist and stroll into the bedroom. I expected her to be asleep, but she’s sitting on the edge of the bed.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m afraid I told the person something that might get you into trouble,” she admits. “I wrote in my diary that you were onto me.”
“If I remember correctly, I told you to tell me the truth and I could help you. Which you did.”
“I did?”
“I remember footsteps, Dom. I remember the person must have thought I was dead as I lay on the ground. They walked to me and then away.”
“And what else?” I clench my jaw as Amara’s words sink in.
“Nothing. I went from seeing a shadow to everything going black. I remember nothing before or after. Just footsteps.”
My fingers curl into fists at my sides. Someone walked up to her broken body and just left her there to die. The thought makes my blood boil.
“The person never helped you,” I growl, my voice rough with barely controlled rage.
I kneel in front of her, taking her small hands in mine. They’re warm, delicate. I want to protect her from everything.
“Close your eyes,” I tell her, my voice softer now. “Think about those footsteps. What did they sound like? Heavy or light? Was the shadow big or small?”
She squeezes her eyes shut, concentration furrowing her brow. A tear escapes, sliding down her cheek. I resist the urge to wipe it away, not wanting to break her focus.
“I don’t know,” she finally whispers, more tears following the first. “I’m trying, but I just can’t remember.”
I pull her into my arms, my anger momentarily forgotten as I feel her trembling against me. “It’s okay, piccola. It’ll come back.”
She burrows her face into my neck, and I stroke her hair, breathing in her scent. After a moment, I ask, “What did you do with Caleb tonight?”
She stiffens in my arms, pulling back to look at me with wide eyes. “How do you know about that?”
I cup her face, pushing her hair back with my thumbs. Her skin is soft under my touch. “I know everything, Amara. Everything.”
Before I can stop myself, I lean forward and press my lips to hers. When I pull back, her eyes are wide, searching into mine.
“We slept together, didn’t we?” she asks suddenly.
“You and Caleb?” I can’t keep the edge from my voice.
She shakes her head quickly. “No. Caleb told me we hadn’t had sex yet. I’m talking about me and you.”
Relief floods through me.
“Yes,” I confirm, observing her face. “I thought you’d already slept with Caleb when I took your virginity.”
She nods slowly, processing this information. Then she looks up at me, her blue eyes swimming with tears again. “I think I’m pregnant.”
I stare at her stomach, flat and toned from all those hours in the pool. My mouth goes dry as her words sink in.
“It’s too early to know,” I say, my voice rougher than I intended.
“Four weeks,” she says, twisting her hands in her lap. “Milly told me all about periods and said I’d have one soon, but it never came.”
I run a hand through my damp hair, mind racing. “You’re stressed. The accident, the memory loss—”
“I–I’m pregnant, Dom.” Her eyes fill with tears as she stutters out her words.
“Pregnant—”
“I’m sorry.”
Something fierce and protective surges through me. “No. No, don’t be. I’m not.” I cup her face, my thumbs brushing away the tears that fall. “But I’m so much older than you. I was just getting my head around letting you go for Caleb, but now...”
Her eyes widen, panic flashing across her face.
“I can’t lose Caleb, Dom. Please don’t hurt him.
I love him. I know I do. I feel it in my bones.
My heart goes crazy when he is near me.” She presses a hand to her chest. “It’s like it does for you.
Despite my mind not remembering, my heart remembers everything. ”
“You love me,” I whisper, the realization hitting me like a physical blow.
She swallows and bites her lip, nodding slowly. My chest tightens with an emotion I’ve never allowed myself to feel for a very long time.
I press my hands over her stomach, marveling at the miracle growing inside her. Our miracle. “You’re carrying my child,” I say, voice thick with emotion. “A part of me and you, together. I’ve wanted nothing more in my life than I want you and this baby.”
“You do?”
“More than anything.” I pull her into my arms, cradling her against my chest as I bury my face in her hair, breathing in her scent, committing it to memory.
Her heart beats against mine, our rhythms syncing as I hold her close.
“I’ll never let you go,” I promise. The words are a vow I intend to keep until my dying breath. “You’re mine, Amara. You’ve always been mine.”
“And Caleb’s. It works for Lia.”