15. Sophie
— · —
Sophie
The next few days are strange.
Dominic tells me everything. Every detail of his childhood, his parents, his brother’s cruelty, his disownment, his rise. He tells me about building his company from nothing, about changing his name, about the years of solitude he chose because it was easier than trusting anyone.
He tells me about Celia. The full story this time - how he met her, how he watched his brother break her, how he finally found the courage to help her run. How his parents chose Caleb over him without hesitation.
I listen. I ask questions. I watch his face for signs of deception and find none.
Slowly, painfully, I start to believe him.
But the doubt doesn’t fully disappear. It lingers in the corners of my mind, whispering warnings I can’t quite ignore.
He lied before. He could be lying now.
He’s Caleb’s brother. The same blood runs through their veins.
How well do you really know him?
I don’t share these thoughts with Dominic. I’m not ready. Not yet.
Instead, I throw myself into practical matters. The lawyer is making progress on my divorce - Caleb is fighting it, of course, claiming I’m mentally unstable, demanding full custody, painting himself as the victim. But we have evidence. The bruises. The break-in. The threatening note.
It’s not going to be easy, but it’s going to be possible.
That’s more than I had a week ago.
Alexa comes by on the fifth day, claiming she needs to check on me but clearly here to interrogate Dominic.
“So,” she says, cornering him in the kitchen while I pretend to be absorbed in my phone. “You’re Caleb’s brother.”
“Yes.”
“The brother he never mentioned in three years of marriage.”
“We’re not close.”
“Clearly.” She leans against the counter, arms crossed. “And you expect me to believe you’re nothing like him?”
“I expect you to believe whatever you want.” Dominic’s voice is calm, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. “I can’t control your opinion of me. I can only control my actions.”
“And your actions have been… what? Swooping in to save Sophie? Playing the hero?”
“Helping where I can.”
“Convenient.”
“Alexa.” I set down my phone. “Leave him alone.”
“I’m just asking questions.”
“You’re interrogating him.”
“Same thing.” But she softens slightly. “Look, Soph, I just want to make sure you’re okay. You went through hell with Caleb. I don’t want to see you go through it again.”
“I won’t,” I say. “Dominic isn’t Caleb.”
“You’re sure?”
I look at him - really look. At the man who brought me diapers and calmed my daughter and stood between me and danger without hesitation. At the man who told me the truth when I demanded it, even though it could have cost him everything.
“I’m sure.”
Alexa holds my gaze for a long moment. Then she nods.
“Fine. But if he hurts you, I’m calling that guy I know.”
“You don’t know a guy.”
“I might know a guy.”
Dominic looks between us with something like amusement. “Should I be worried?”
“Probably,” Alexa says. “I’m very protective of my friends.”
“Good.” He meets her eyes. “So am I.”
Something passes between them - not warmth, exactly, but an understanding. An acknowledgment that they’re on the same side, even if they’re not sure they like each other.
It’s progress.
***
That night, after Alexa leaves and Anna’s asleep and the apartment is quiet, Dominic finds me on the couch.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
He sits beside me, not quite touching but close enough that I can feel his warmth.
“Thank you,” he says.
“For what?”
“For defending me. To Alexa. You didn’t have to.”
“Yes, I did.” I turn to look at him. “I told you - I’m staying. That means I’m on your side. Even when I’m still mad at you.”
“Are you? Still mad?”
“A little.” I lean against him, let my head rest on his shoulder. “But less than I was.”
His arm comes around me, and I let myself sink into his embrace.
“I meant what I said,” he murmurs into my hair. “About loving you.”
“I know.”
“And I meant what I promised. No more secrets.”
“I know that too.”
We sit in silence for a while, watching the city lights through the window.
“Dominic?”
“Mm?”
“Tell me about your company.”
He goes still. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything.” I pull back to look at him. “If we’re doing this - really doing this - I want to know all of it. The money, the business, the life you built. I don’t want any more surprises.”
He nods slowly. “It’s a tech company. Software, mostly. I started it with fifty dollars and a laptop I stole from my parents’ house when they kicked me out.”
“You stole a laptop?”
“They owed me.” A ghost of a smile crosses his face. “I slept in my car for six months while I built the first version of the software. Sold it to a bigger company for enough to rent an apartment and start over.”
“And then?”
“And then I did it again. And again. Each time bigger, each time smarter.” He shrugs like it’s nothing, like he didn’t build an empire from literally nothing.
“Eventually, the numbers got big enough that people started paying attention. I sold the main company for… a lot. Kept a few smaller ventures. Now I mostly just invest and consult.”
“A lot,” I repeat. “How much is a lot?”
He tells me.
I choke on my own saliva.
“Sophie? Are you okay?”
“That’s-” I cough, trying to breathe. “That’s a lot of zeros.”
“I told you.”
“You said investments. You didn’t say you could buy a small country.”
“I couldn’t buy a small country.” He considers. “Maybe a very small island.”
“Dominic.”
“I know.” He takes my hand. “I know it’s a lot. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to look at me differently.”
“I’m definitely looking at you differently.”
His face falls. “Sophie-”
“Not in a bad way.” I squeeze his hand. “I’m just… processing. This is a lot to process.”
“Take all the time you need.”
I look at him - this man who grew up with everything, lost it all, and built something even bigger on his own. Who carries guilt like a second skin and protects people like it’s his purpose. Who loves me.
“I don’t care about the money,” I say. “For the record.”
“I know.”
“I just care about you.”
Something in his expression shifts. Softens.
“Come to bed,” he says. “Please.”
“I thought you were sleeping on the couch.”
“That was three days ago.” He pulls me closer. “I’ve suffered enough.”
“Have you?”
“Sophie.” His voice drops, and heat pools in my belly at the sound of it.
“I’ve been lying next to you for three nights without being able to touch you.
I’ve watched you walk around in my shirt with nothing underneath.
I’ve listened to you breathe in your sleep and wanted you so badly it hurt.
” He leans in, his lips brushing my ear. “I’ve suffered plenty.”
I shiver. “That does sound difficult.”
“It’s been torture.”
“Poor baby.”
“Mock me all you want.” His hand slides up my thigh. “I’ll make you pay for it later.”
“Promise?”
His answer is a kiss that steals my breath and any remaining doubts.
We don’t make it to the bedroom.
***
Later, tangled together on the couch, I trace patterns on his chest and listen to his heart beat.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” I say.
He tenses. “What?”
“Caleb texted me.”
“What?” He sits up so fast I nearly fall off him. “When?”
“This morning.” I sit up too, pulling a blanket around myself. “While you were in the shower. I didn’t tell you because I was still mad, and then Alexa came, and-”
“What did he say?”
I reach for my phone, pull up the message, show him.
Dominic’s not who you think he is. Anna’s in danger. Meet me at the park tomorrow morning.
Dominic’s face goes dark. “He’s trying to manipulate you.”
“I know.”
“He wants to separate you from me, make you doubt-”
“I know, Dominic.” I put my hand on his arm. “I’m not stupid. I can see what he’s doing.”
“So you’re not going to meet him?”
I hesitate.
His eyes narrow. “Sophie.”
“I need to face him.” The words come out in a rush. “I need to look him in the eye and show him I’m not afraid anymore. That he can’t control me.”
“That’s exactly what he wants.”
“Maybe.” I take his hand. “But I can’t spend the rest of my life hiding from him. He’s Anna’s father. There are going to be custody hearings, visitations, all of it. I need to be strong enough to face him.”
“You are strong.”
“Then let me prove it.” I meet his eyes. “I’m going to meet him. But I want you to know about it first. No secrets, remember?”
He’s quiet for a long moment. I can see him fighting with himself - the protective instinct warring with the promise he made.
“Fine,” he finally says. “But I’m coming with you.”
“He won’t talk if you’re there.”
“I’ll stay out of sight.” His jaw is tight. “But I’m not letting you face him alone. That’s not negotiable.”
I want to argue. I want to insist I can handle this myself.
But the truth is, having him there - knowing he’s watching, knowing he’ll intervene if anything goes wrong - makes me feel safer.
“Okay,” I agree. “Tomorrow morning. The park on Fifth.”
“I’ll be there.”
He pulls me back down, and I rest my head on his chest, and we lie there in the dark, waiting for dawn.