Chapter 4 I Got You
I Got You
Jas
The cheese pulls between my mouth and the slice of pepperoni pizza in my hand.
I close my eyes and savor the tangy tomato sauce and spicy pepperoni.
A groan of satisfaction escapes. This is so good.
I skipped breakfast and had a small lunch, which was a sandwich Blythe picked up for me from the deli at Thyme and Oak Market.
I pause mid-bite, and Dom stares at me, flecks of gold dancing as if his wolf has surfaced and is the one peering out from behind Dom's gaze.
“What?” I shrug. “Sometimes, food hits different when you don’t have to cook it.”
He chuckles before resuming his eating. His locs brush against his shoulders, the fresh line-up along his hairline still sharp.
His beard is full, dark, and so neatly groomed it almost looks sculpted around his cheekbones, the mustache trimmed to match, while the kitchen light's warm glow spills over his deep mahogany skin.
We sit side by side on the barstools, paper plates and a pizza box in front of us.
“Thank you for this.”
“You know it’s no problem.”
I always thank him, maybe a little bit too much. As if I’m making sure he knows I’m grateful for every second of his help, time, and energy over all these years. Because I am. He doesn’t have to help me as much as he does, or care as much as he does, but I would be lost without him.
Seren is in the living room, sitting cross-legged with her blanket, pizza, and a few toys, watching a movie.
Instrumental jazz flows gently through the air from the speaker sitting on the counter near the stove.
“I know you’re grateful, Jas.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin before tossing it down, grabbing another steaming slice of pizza. He angles his body towards me, giving a small nod towards the living room. “You and Seren are welcome here, anytime.”
He tears off a piece of pepperoni and pops it in his mouth. The warmth in his voice loosens something inside me. I reach out and give his knee a light squeeze. He returns it with a small smile, the smile telling me I got you.
When Aaryn died of cancer, Dominik and I fell into a rhythm I didn’t know I needed. With Aaryn's parents grieving the death of their only child, I couldn’t burden them with asking for help. It felt wrong.
Through sickness and in health. Till death do you part. That's marriage, right? We all know it could happen. But I never thought it could happen to me.
When I hear the word widow I see an older woman, wearing black at the cemetery, and it's raining. Everyone is holding black umbrellas and wearing black. The widow is sobbing with her clutch tucked in her inner elbow. She’s weeping. The Weeping Widow.
But it did happen to me. And the last thing a widow wants to ask for is help when she’s alone.
During that time of anguish, Dominik would force me to take a break.
To go for a walk, a drive, get my nails done, anything to get me to breathe again.
To see the sun and feel the air. I was becoming a recluse.
He’d stay with Seren, either at my house or his.
He set up a third bedroom with her name on it. The second being at my in-laws.
At first, guilt twisted in my chest like a jagged knife every time I handed her over and got in my car. However, I finally came to terms with the fact that I needed the silence. I needed it for myself to think. To grieve. To process and accept who I was without Aaryn.
“How’s the dating going?” Dominik’s voice breaks through, pulling me from the edge of my memories.
“Do you really want to know?” I laugh while rolling my eyes. “Coffee or a quick lunch with conversation is how far these dates get.”
Never beyond. They just dry out, wither, and die.
“Just make sure he’s not an asshole,” he growls. “I won’t hesitate to rip anyone apart with my bare fucking hands.”
“I would help you bury the body, but I think Seren and I would miss having you around, big guy,” I say, dipping my cheese-stuffed bread into the sauce.
Dominik is an amazing friend. He’s a fierce and protective werewolf. People can be crazy out there, but I can’t walk around with a werewolf as my bodyguard.
“Some guys are just…” I say, taking a slow bite, chewing thoughtfully, “weird.”
I swallow hard, laying the bread down and grabbing my Coke. My lips wrap around the paper straw, the fizz tickling my lips. “Do you ever get a feeling? About me?” I ask, staring at my plate.
“What?” he asks, pausing mid-chew.
“The feeling that I suck at dating.” I shrug because, honestly, I'm starting to think that this just isn't in the cards for me right now.
“You don’t suck,” he says, voice rough, but humor is sprinkled in. “You had a few weird dates. I just want you to be safe.” His voice turns serious, and he tears into his slice of pizza like it’s to blame.
I will be safe, but my standards are as high as fortress walls.
I have myself and my daughter to protect at all costs.
I have to build trust with someone new, before I even let them near my heart, let alone love them.
My mind spirals into a chaos-filled bubble of worst-case scenarios. I chew on the inside of my cheek.
“Get out of your head, Jas,” Dominik says, his voice gentle like spring rain. He’s a force commanding me to listen. He takes a drink and sets the glass down. “I can feel it," he says, his eyes never leaving mine. "The way your heart is hammering away in your chest. Take a deep breath."
I inhale slowly, holding it until my lungs beg for release, before exhaling. “You’re right.” I sit up straight, tucking loose strands behind my ear. “It’s not me, but some of these men act like I’m damaged goods.” My voice cracks. The last two words stick in my throat.
I glance at Seren, studying her as she nibbles on her pizza, transfixed by her movie. I don’t want her to hear this conversation. I'm not damaged goods. My daughter is not a problem. She’s my heart walking outside my body.
Being a widow isn’t a flaw either. I’ve heard some of the whispers. The quiet gossip around town seems to circle back to me.
Is she ready to date?
Do you think it’s too soon?
I would never date again if something happened to my husband.
Maybe they mean well. Maybe they don’t understand grief and love can share the same space, in one heart, together. Moving forward doesn’t mean I’ve abandoned my late husband. It means I’m still fighting to live. Seeking happiness again shouldn’t be mistaken for betrayal.
I shake my head. “I know we’re not baggage, Dom, but the judgment still stings. Can we talk about something else?” Anything else.
“Actually,” he says, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I went through Seren’s folder. I saw a flyer for Dads and Donuts. I’m not sure if the school talked to you about this. Seren hasn’t said anything.”
I bury my face in my hands. How could I forget this?
When Seren started school, I knew moments like this would come.
All the events and field trips with parents.
I thought about her classmates having questions.
Asking why she doesn’t have a dad. It’s terrifying to think about because what will she say? How will she feel?
She has no memory of him, but so I show her the videos and pictures. I tell her stories of him, ending with. “Your daddy loves you so much, and he would be so proud of who you are growing up to be.”
Dominik rises to his feet, pulling me up out of my seat, before enveloping me in his embrace. His large arms give me a tight squeeze as he folds me against him, resting his chin atop my head. I sink into the warmth of him, letting his closeness soothe the hollow ache that has spread within me.
“You can’t remember everything, and it’s okay. She hasn’t mentioned it to me, and maybe she won’t.” He pulls back and places both hands on my shoulders, forcing me to focus on his face and his words. “If she comes to me, I will let you know so you can talk to her first, okay?”
His voice is warm. He always knows what to say and when to say it. He has a way of calming the storm inside me when my mind tells me I failed, even if it's the simplest thing.
I nod. “Okay, thanks for the heads up.”
“Of course.” He gives me another hug before I help him tidy up from dinner.
“Hey, Mom!” Seren bursts through the kitchen, sliding in her socks on the tile. “Are you okay?”
She looks up at me with wide eyes, her brows scrunching on her little face. The concern tainting her tiny voice breaks my heart. I kneel, bringing my face to her level.
“I’m okay, love.” I brush her forehead with a light kiss. She laughs. The sound brightens my spirit even more.
Out of the corner of my eye, Dominik crosses his arms and leans against the counter.
“I’m just talking to Dominik about some grown-up things. How was school?”
“We’re finishing our costumes for the show!”
“You are?” I smile at the excitement in her voice. Ever since returning to school after Winter Solstice break, she has been so excited about practicing her routine at the Spring Festival. She will be the lead character—a bumblebee.
She hops on her toes, her curly ponytail bobbing behind her. “I put real flowers and glitter on my wings. Mrs. Primrose used her faerie magic on the flowers!”
“I can’t wait to see your wings, sweetheart. What a fun day!”
With the attention span of a little bee, she skips happily back to her living room picnic.
“You know she’s going to be okay, right?” Dom says. “She’s a brilliant little girl, strong like her mother.”
I’ve heard it a lot over the years. How strong and resilient I am, and how I am amazing at handling it all.
I don’t have a choice. I still have to live for her and myself, despite the constant reminders of Aaryn.
He was woven into the very fabric of our lives, stitch by stitch, and all we have left are memories.