Chapter 6 Dominic #2
I pick up my phone, pulling up the number and hesitating for a second, but then calling it anyway.
It doesn’t ring, as it hasn’t for the past 2 weeks. But Archie’s stupid voicemail message plays, his voice making my rage even more acute. Then there’s the beep.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing at, but whatever’s happened between you and Mia isn’t OK.
She deserves better than that. She’s a good woman, Archie.
Kids or no kids, she doesn’t deserve this.
” I swallow down all the nasty things I want to say, all the names and the put-downs.
I shake my head, watching the raindrops lazily roll down the windshield. “I expected better from you.”
I hang up, not knowing what else to say. Or rather, knowing exactly what I want to say, but having the wisdom not to. It’ll just give Archie more fodder.
The engine roars to life, and I tear out of the parking lot.
He knows he can’t come to you.
My father would see it as a badge of honour that Archie could tell him all his dirty little secrets. It suits his brand. I realise that I didn’t even ask if Archie was coming back, if any of that had been discussed. I doubt it. My father surely would have mentioned that.
But now all Archie’s sins against the club are forgiven because he and my father have found common ground. I was the bad guy, of course.
At the last minute I detour to the gym, needing to take out my frustration on a treadmill and a punching bag.
I do weights until my arms burn, the gym quiet on a Saturday night.
By the time I leave, enough dopamine has flooded my system that I feel halfways human again.
The gym may be quiet, but the streets are busy with Saturday night crowds, all dressed up and heading out to clubs and bars despite the drizzle that’s set in.
I’m relieved to be back in my apartment, alone and with space to think and breathe.
But I have to do something, and I still don’t know how to do it.
I pick up the phone and bring up Mia’s number. Do I send her a text? Do I call her? What do I even say? I wanted to protect her from Archie’s awful words, but now I don’t know how to shield her from them. What the fuck do I say to her?
Finally I type out a text, and feel like an arsehole with every word.
Hiya, I hope you’re doing alright. My dad got a phone call from Archie this morning, I don’t know exactly what was said, but it’s all just messy and stupid. I don’t know where he is or when he’s coming back.
I stare at the blinking cursor, then slowly delete the words. What am I even saying? What am I doing?
I dial her number and put the phone to my ear. It rings twice, then Mia answers.
“Yeah?”
“Uh, hi. Hi.” I walk a few paces around the kitchen and clear my throat. “Are you alright?”
“I really need people to stop asking me that,” she says flatly. “It’s getting really bloody boring.”
“Sorry, love. I, uh, look. There’s no easy way to say this, but Archie’s called my dad.”
There’s a short, sharp intake of breath. “Right?”
“Yeah, I don’t know how it all played out, but essentially, we know he’s alive, and he’s safe.”
“He just called to say he’s alive and safe?” Mia asks, her voice thick with cynicism. “I don’t fucking care.”
“I know, love, I’m sorry. I…” I trail off, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Dom, what is going on?” Mia asks with a sigh. “You don’t need to be all coy about this.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m already bloody hurt!” She cries, and the tone of her voice threatens to cut me in two. “I - I can’t fucking cope with the back and forth. I’m fine and trying to move past it all and then Archie pulls me right back in.”
“You don’t need to be moving past anything right now, Mia, it just happened. Give yourself some grace.”
“Stop trying to protect me and just tell me what he said.”
I lean on the kitchen counter, hanging my head. “He admitted to having an affair.” There’s silence on the line. “Mia?”
“I heard you. What else?”
I can’t tell her. I just can’t do it. I can’t tell her that I know one of her most painful secrets, something I shouldn’t know and my father certainly shouldn’t know, but Archie used against her all the same.
“Did you and Archie ever discuss him talking about your past publicly?” I don’t know why this bloody question bubbles up in my brain and out of my stupid mouth, but it does.
“What?” Mia asks, clearly confused. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“The way he always talked about you being a foster kid, positioning himself as the hero. Only, you never talked about it yourself. Did he have your permission to do that?”
Mia sighs heavily. “Dominic, what is fucking going on? What does my childhood have to do with any of this?”
“Archie likes to use people’s weaknesses against them. Their past and their pain, he sees it as a way to justify his own bad actions.” I grunt out a laugh. “A lot like my dad, as it happens.”
“A lot like men, I think you’ll find.” Mia laughs darkly. “I think that’s an in-built factory setting for your lot.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“And since you asked… No, he didn’t ever discuss it with me.
I think it made him feel like he’d rescued me, the hero, like you said.
” There’s a sound in the background like ice tinkling into a glass.
“Archie likes to feel important, like the most important man in the room. And when he isn’t, well…
He doesn’t much like that. That’s why he sent Jordan that text.
He saw all the accolades and lost it. Couldn’t even keep his mouth shut in exile, no.
He had to come steaming in and remind everyone he was still the big man. ”
“He’s freaked Jordan right out.”
Mia scoffs. “Tell Jordan to forget about it. It’s Archie’s MO, nothing more.”
“That’s what I said.”
Mia giggles softly. “Guess you and me are alike after all.”
I don’t quite understand the warmth that blooms in my chest at those words. I like the idea of being like her, even just a little. Like this sassy, loud woman who doesn’t take anyone’s shit.
“Anyway, look, I just wanted to tell you what happened.”
“Yeah, in a word, nothing.” Mia laughs, and takes a sip of something. “Just Archie being cryptic and painful.”
“Are you going to divorce him?”
“I don’t think Andrea is going to give me much choice,” Mia replies, and sighs heavily. “But yes, I’m going to divorce him. I’m done being miserable.”
“Fair enough.” I hesitate, taking an uncertain breath. “Mia…”
“Yes, Dominic?”
I’m a fool. An utter old fool. “I was wondering… Are you still going to come to the games? And the gala? Only…” I had a really nice time with you the other night, and I don’t want to let that go yet.
Her silence seems to last an eternity. I’m ridiculous. She probably thinks I’m ridiculous. She won’t want to come within 50 feet of my family, let alone spend time with me willingly. Me? Her old, grey father-in-law? Why would she-
“Yeah, go on.” She chuckles sweetly, the sound making me break out in goosebumps. “Archie’ll hate it, and since we know he’s watching, may as well torture him a bit more, ey?”
I laugh, hoping to sound nonchalant. “I support that plan.”
“See you at the next game then.”
She hangs up, and I keep the phone pressed to my ear for a minute longer, before putting it down very slowly.
What are you doing, old man? I catch sight of my reflection in the oven door. I’m 52 years old. And I just asked my son’s wife to spend more time with me, because it turns out I enjoy her company.
What the bloody hell am I doing?