18. Dylan
— ? —
Dylan
I arrive at her door at exactly seven o’clock.
Not six fifty-five, which is when I actually got here and had to sit in my car giving myself a pep talk like a nervous teenager before prom. Not seven oh five, which would suggest a casualness I absolutely do not feel. Seven o’clock precisely, because tonight needs to be perfect.
I’ve checked my reflection approximately fourteen times.
My suit is immaculate. Dark charcoal, no tie, top button undone because Selene once mentioned she liked that look.
The chain holding her rings is still around my neck, but I’ve moved it to my pocket so I can access it easily when the moment comes.
If the moment comes.
God, I hope the moment comes.
I knock on her door and wait, my heart hammering against my ribs, desperate to escape. The seconds stretch into an eternity, and I’m just starting to wonder if I should knock again when the door swings open.
My brain short-circuits.
Selene is wearing a champagne-colored dress that clings to every curve, poured directly onto her body.
The fabric ends a few scandalous inches above her knees, and when she turns slightly to grab her clutch, I see that the back is completely open, exposing the elegant line of her spine down to the small of her back.
My jaw clenches involuntarily.
“See something you like?” Her voice is teasing, but a slight flush colors her cheeks that tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing.
“You’re making me want to skip dinner entirely.” My voice has gone rough, and I don’t even try to hide it. My eyes rake over her from head to toe and back again, cataloging every detail. “Baby, you look…”
“I look what?”
“My willpower is about to be seriously tested.”
She laughs, that bright, genuine sound that I’ve been addicted to since the first time I heard it. “You promised me dinner, Mr. Riego.”
“I did.” I step closer, crowding her against the doorframe, and let my lips brush the shell of her ear. “And I always keep my promises now.” I nip gently at her earlobe, feeling her sharp intake of breath. “But after dinner, you’ll be a Riego again. In every way that matters.”
Her teeth catch her lower lip, and the sight sends a pulse of heat straight through me.
“That sounds like a promise too.”
“It’s a guarantee.” I pull back and offer her my arm with exaggerated formality. “Shall we?”
***
Selene
The restaurant Dylan chose is intimate, tucked away in a corner of the city I’ve never explored.
We have a private booth in the back, shielded from other diners by artful arrangements of plants and ambient lighting. The table is small enough that our knees touch underneath, and Dylan has positioned himself so he can hold my hand across the white linen tablecloth.
He hasn’t let go since we sat down.
“I need you to know something.” His thumb traces circles on my palm as he speaks, his eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe.
“Everything that happened. Our anniversary, the Academy Awards, all of it. I replay it constantly. Every night when I couldn’t sleep, I’d go through it moment by moment, cataloging all the ways I failed you. ”
“Dylan-”
“Let me finish.” His grip on my hand tightens slightly. “I need to say this. I need you to hear it.”
I nod, and he continues.
“I was so focused on proving myself. To your father, to the industry, to everyone who ever doubted me. I forgot the only opinion that actually mattered was yours.” He swallows hard.
“I let Claudette convince me that my work was more important than my marriage. I let her fill spaces that belonged to you. And the worst part is, I didn’t even realize it was happening until you were gone. ”
“How did you figure it out?”
“She showed up at the mansion a few days after you left.” His jaw tightens at the memory. “I was… not in good shape. Surrounded by bottles, lying on the floor, calling your phone over and over hoping you’d answer.”
The image makes my chest ache.
“She told me to give up on you. Said you couldn’t handle my success.
Said I should move on.” He laughs bitterly.
“And suddenly, everything clicked. All the times she volunteered to answer your calls. All the times she encouraged me to stay late. All the subtle ways she’d been positioning herself between us. ”
“What did you do?”
“I threw her out.” His eyes meet mine, fierce and certain. “I fired her on the spot and told her I’d ruin her if she ever came near you again. And then I spent the next year trying to find you, trying to figure out how to make things right.”
“You really hired investigators?”
“Three different firms.” He brings my hand to his lips. “I would have hired a hundred if that’s what it took.”
“I covered my tracks pretty well.”
“You did.” A small smile crosses his face. “I was simultaneously proud of you and devastated. Every dead end made me more desperate and more aware of how thoroughly I’d lost you.”
I study his face in the candlelight, searching for any trace of the man who forgot our anniversary. Who thanked another woman from the stage. Who made me feel invisible in my own marriage.
I don’t see him anymore.
All I see is the man who’s been cooking me breakfast and bringing me flowers and sitting quietly in the corner of my office just to be near me. The man who chose my premiere over a crisis at his own studio. The man who defended me publicly and privately, who’s been patient and utterly devoted.
“I believe you.” The words come out soft but certain. “I believe you’ve changed.”
His breath catches. “You do?”
“I’ve been watching you, Dylan. For weeks now. Waiting for the mask to slip, for the old patterns to resurface.” I squeeze his hand. “They haven’t. You’ve been consistent and… different. In the best possible way.”
“Selene…” His voice breaks on my name.
“I’m not saying everything is perfect. We still have work to do. But I…” I take a deep breath. “I’m ready to try. Really try. If you are.”
“I am.” He’s out of his chair before I can react, moving around the table to kneel beside me. “I’m ready. I’ve been ready since the moment you left. I’ve been ready since I woke up in that empty house and realized what an idiot I’d been.”
“Dylan, people are going to see-”
“Let them see.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the chain I’ve seen peeking from beneath his collar for weeks. The chain that holds my engagement ring and wedding band. “Let them see me on my knees for the woman I love.”
My heart stops.
He unclasps the chain and lets the rings pool in his palm, glinting in the candlelight like tiny promises.
“I’ve been carrying these against my heart every day since you left.” His voice is thick with emotion. “Waiting for the moment when I could offer them back to you. Hoping you’d give me the chance.”
He bends down and presses a kiss to my knee, his lips warm through the thin fabric of my dress.
“I know I’ve been the worst husband to you.” Another kiss, higher on my thigh. “I know I should be going to hell for everything I put you through.”
His hand finds mine, trembling as he brings it to his lips.
“But baby…” He kisses each of my fingers, one by one, his eyes never leaving mine. “I am no good without you. You’re the only precious thing in my life. The only thing that matters.”
He slides the engagement ring onto my finger, and the familiar weight of it makes tears spill down my cheeks.
“So please.” The wedding band follows, settling into place like it never left. “Give this madman a chance to love you again.”
I don’t remember deciding to kiss him.
One moment he’s kneeling before me, his eyes shining with hope and terror and love, and the next my hands are in his hair and my mouth is on his and I’m pouring everything I feel into the contact.
He makes a sound against my lips. Relief, maybe. Or joy. Maybe both. Then he’s kissing me back with equal desperation, one hand cupping the back of my head while the other grips my hip.
“Is that a yes?” he murmurs against my mouth.
“What do you think?”
“I think I need to hear you say it.”
I pull back just enough to meet his eyes. “Yes, Dylan. It’s a yes.”
His smile could light up the entire city.
“Then let’s get out of here.” He stands, pulling me to my feet. “I have plans for the rest of this evening, and none of them involve being in public.”
***
Dylan
The drive home takes approximately seventeen years.
Or possibly fifteen minutes. It’s hard to tell when every red light feels like an eternity and every brush of her hand against my thigh makes me want to pull over and take her right there in the car.
I behave myself. Barely.
When we finally reach the mansion, I barely get the front door unlocked before I’m pulling her inside, my mouth finding that spot on her neck that always makes her shiver.
“Dylan, we’re barely through the door-”
“I’ve waited long enough.”
She laughs breathlessly, and I kick the door closed behind us, immediately pressing her against the wall of the entryway.
“I’ve been thinking about this all night.” I capture her mouth in a deep, searching kiss. “All week. All year.”
“That’s a lot of thinking.”
“I had a lot of time on my hands.” I kiss along her jaw, down her throat. “Turns out, twelve months of celibacy gives you plenty of opportunity to imagine all the ways you want to worship your wife.”
Her breath hitches. “Twelve months?”
“Did you think I was with anyone else?” I pull back to look at her, genuinely surprised by the question. “Selene, there’s never been anyone but you. There never will be.”
Vulnerability crosses her face. “I thought… you and Claudette…”
“Never.” The word comes out fierce. “Not even close. She tried, but I…” I shake my head. “It was always you. Only you.”
She pulls me back down to her mouth, and this kiss is different. Slower, deeper, full of emotion that makes my chest ache.
“Bedroom,” she murmurs against my lips. “Now.”
I don’t need to be told twice.
***
Selene
He carries me to the bedroom like I weigh nothing, like he could carry me forever if I asked.