Chapter 15 #2
The fingers in my pussy slowly stop stroking before Dominic pulls them out completely. With both hands on my hips, Dom presses his face into my back.
And he sobs. He lets out a guttural howl as he grips my hips tight enough to leave marks.
The sound shatters my heart. He hasn’t cried since that night at the store, when we held each other through our tears.
And here, in the warmth and intimate space of my shower, he finds the comfort to finally break down.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles against my skin. “I thought… but I can’t. I’m sorry.”
I turn sharply, wrapping my arms around him as he buries his face against my neck. “Don’t be. Let it out, baby. I’m here.”
The VFW is a basic venue, but Gloria’s friends really did a number on the decorations.
Beautiful, fresh floral arrangements adorn every table and framed photos from all eras of Gloria’s life are scattered throughout the space.
So many people showed up, we had to open the doors and set up chairs and tables in the patio space as well.
I walk with Dominic through the gathering, his hand clasped tightly in mine the entire time. We pause to say hello to everyone. It’s strange how many of these people I recall from Gloria’s summer parties— everyone seems familiar, but the memories are fuzzy.
Once we’ve made a full turn of the room, I guide Dom over to the bar to grab us some drinks. Dom is quiet again, and I’m sure it took a lot of energy to be social and greet everyone just now.
“Two vodka sodas, please. With limes.” The bartender nods at me and gets to pouring the basic cocktails.
Dom leans against the bar, facing the room.
His eyes continue to scan over and over, and I wonder who he’s looking for.
His mom? “You’re doing great,” I say quietly, pressing my body against his in a way I hope is comforting.
Taking the cocktail from the server, Dom just nods. He takes a sip of his drink and makes a face.
“Not good?” I ask. “Want something else?”
Dom shakes his head before he takes another sip. “I should have made her a signature cocktail,” he mumbles.
Placing a hand on his arm, I tilt my head up to look at him. “You’ve had a lot going on.”
Once again, he gives me a sad nod and returns to looking out at the room.
I’m not sure what else to say to him to…
comfort him? Distract him? I’m completely unprepared for this.
In my periphery, I see Chloe approach with her cousin Jasper.
She greets me with a warm hug. Jasper acknowledges me with a nod, his hands shoved in his pockets.
“Hey, babe. How are you holding up?” I love Chloe to death, but I’m so tired of people asking that question.
I know grief makes everyone awkward, no one knows the right thing to say or do.
I glance at Dominic, a perfect example of my inability to say or do the right thing.
But, come on. No one is holding up. We’re tired, we’ve each had a headache for ten days straight.
We can barely manage to take care of ourselves.
“We’ve been better.” What else can I say?
Dom nods at them. “Thanks for coming out.”
“Of course,” Chloe says, wrapping her arms around herself. “We, um, well we were just wondering…” She trails off and I give her a look.
Jasper speaks up, “We were just wondering what’s going to happen with the bookstore?”
My heart sinks at his question– not an unfair one to be wondering about, and certainly not the first person to float that question in the last few weeks.
The truth is, we don’t know. I shouldn’t say we because Dominic is actually the sole owner now.
I’ve just assumed he would keep me on as a manager, and be open to my input for the future of the store. Wouldn’t he?
“It’s not going anywhere anytime soon,” Dom says with a trace of defensiveness in his tone.
“That’s cool.” Chloe nudges Jasper in the ribs and shoots me an apologetic smile. “We’re gonna go grab some food. Did you see Mrs. Peachwood made her famous apple pie crumble? Just like those summer barbecues.”
The nostalgia sweeps over me and I involuntarily reach for Dom’s hand.
“Can we bring you guys any food?” Jasper asks.
Dom and I both shake our heads as Chloe and Jasper depart. Squeezing his hand in mine, I stare back up at him.
“Can I talk to you?”
Dom raises his brows but doesn’t look at me. “Here?”
“Yeah.”
He shrugs. “Sure.”
Taking a deep breath, I say, “I'm mad at Gloria.” Dom narrows his eyes at me. “Having congestive heart failure and not saying anything to anyone? Pisses me off. Having her pass away so suddenly? It makes me fucking angry.” A smirk ghosts over his face and I know it’s because I dropped an F-bomb.
“But honestly? In the end, I can’t be mad at her at all.
I have so much to be grateful to Gloria for.
The bookstore, yeah, of course. But the most important thing in this whole entire world? ”
Dom’s eyes glass over and I know he’s fighting tears, the same as me.
“She brought you into my life,” I whisper.
The celebration roars around us, more of a party than a sad occasion, and I try to lean into that.
“First, as kids. And again, eight months ago.” I press a hand to Dom’s chest, where his heartbeat pounds erratically.
“Without Gloria, I would never have met the man I love.” I let out a wavering laugh as a tear slips down my cheek.
“Or connect him again, fifteen years later.”
Dominic’s hands come up to cup my face, his thumb brushing the tear from my cheek. He leans down and nuzzles his nose against mine. “I love you, so fucking much.” He takes a shuddering breath before pressing his lips to mine.
Did I anticipate Dominic and I confessing our love for one another during the celebration of life for a woman who meant so much to us?
No, but love isn’t always perfect or pretty.
It’s messy and it hurts. It’s exposing and vulnerable.
It’s tons of tiny, imperfect pieces that, when clumsily assembled, become the most precious thing in the world.
The thing you want to hold close, protect, and never let go. Why? Because it’s yours.