Chapter 7. Almost There
Isla had been talking about it for two weeks.
Her class presentation.
She had practiced every evening after dinner — standing on the rug in the living room, holding handmade chart paper about "Rainforest Animals," reading slowly but proudly.
"Papa will come, right?" she had asked the first night.
Dominic had looked up from his laptop immediately.
"Of course I will."
Seraphina had watched his face carefully when he said it.
He had meant it.
That was the worst part.
?
The morning of the presentation, Isla wore her neat blue school uniform, hair tied in two balanced ponytails.
Dominic adjusted one slightly.
"You'll be the best one there."
She grinned. "You have to clap the loudest."
"I will."
Seraphina held his gaze for a second longer than usual.
"Her slot is at 11:40" ,she reminded him gently.
"I've blocked my calendar."
She nodded.
He had.
He truly had.
?
10:45 AM.
Dominic was wrapping up a meeting when Natalia knocked lightly and stepped in.
"Sorry to interrupt," she said, professional but slightly flustered. "The compliance file you cleared last night — the board wants one clarification before they circulate it."
Dominic glanced at the clock.
"I'm stepping out in thirty minutes."
"I know," she said quickly. "I tried to handle it myself, but they specifically asked for your note."
He frowned. "Can it wait an hour?"
"They're pushing to close it before noon."
She placed the printed document on his desk, leaning slightly closer as she explained a paragraph.
It was subtle.
Too subtle to accuse.
He scanned it quickly.
"It's minor."
"Yes," she agreed. "Just needs your wording."
He checked the time again.
11:02.
"I'll dictate it," he said.
Natalia smiled faintly. "Thank you. I knew you'd want it done properly."
The sentence was harmless.
But it stroked something.
Competence.
Authority.
Need.
?
11:18.
He was still in his office.
Natalia sat across from him, typing as he revised two sentences.
"This should prevent further back-and-forth," he said.
"You always think ahead," she replied.
He didn't notice the way she looked at him when she said it.
His phone buzzed.
Seraphina.
He answered quickly.
"I'm just wrapping up."
"It's starting in ten minutes."
"I'm on my way."
And he meant it.
?
11:29.
He was heading toward the elevator when Natalia stepped out of her cabin again.
"One last thing," she said. "They've added an attachment that contradicts your revision."
He stopped.
"What?"
"It'll take five minutes."
Five minutes.
He checked the time.
If he left now, he would reach by 11:50.
Still okay.
Still manageable.
"Fine. Show me."
?
At school, Seraphina sat in the second row.
Isla kept looking toward the door.
Every time it opened, her eyes lit up.
Then dimmed.
"Parents, please take your seats," the teacher announced.
Seraphina's chest tightened slightly.
She sent Dominic one message.
It's starting.
No response.
?
11:47.
Dominic finally stepped into his car.
Traffic was moderate.
He dialed Seraphina.
No answer.
He frowned.
?
At 12:00, Isla finished her presentation.
She had done beautifully.
Clear voice.
Careful pauses.
Confident smile.
When applause filled the classroom, she searched the back again.
Seraphina clapped the loudest.
But she could see it.
That small flicker.
The moment realization settles in a six-year-old heart.
He's not here.
?
12:17.
Dominic rushed into the school corridor.
He spotted Seraphina outside the classroom.
"It's done?" he asked, breath slightly uneven.
"Yes."
He pushed the door open anyway.
Parents were leaving.
Isla stood near the teacher.
She saw him.
Smiled automatically.
Children are merciful like that.
"You came!" she said.
He crouched. "Of course."
Her teacher approached politely. "She did very well."
"I wouldn't miss it," he said reflexively.
Seraphina didn't correct him.
Isla hugged him tightly.
But the hug was brief.
Children adapt quickly.
Adults fracture slower.
?
In the car, silence lingered.
Dominic tried first.
"Traffic was worse than expected."
Seraphina looked out the window.
"It happens."
"You know how quarter-end is."
"Yes."
He glanced at her.
She wasn't angry.
She wasn't emotional.
She was... recording.
"You think I chose work over her."
"I think you underestimated the timing."
"That's unfair."
"No," she replied softly. "It's factual."
He exhaled. "Natalia needed clarification."
There it was again.
Not the name.
The reflex.
At home, Isla ran inside to tell the house help about her presentation.
Seraphina removed her heels slowly.
"You promised," she said without looking at him.
"And I came."
"You arrived."
He frowned. "That's the same thing."
"No," she said quietly. "It isn't."
?
That evening, Dominic met Adrian Cole for coffee.
Adrian studied his face carefully.
"You look irritated."
"I'm not."
"Which means you are."
Dominic leaned back.
"I missed Isla's presentation."
Adrian raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Work."
"Or Natalia?"
Dominic stiffened. "Don't start."
"I'm not accusing," Adrian said calmly. "I'm asking."
"It was professional."
"Was it necessary?"
"Yes."
"Or could someone else have handled it?"
Dominic paused.
"She prefers that I review sensitive files personally."
Adrian took a slow sip of coffee.
"Of course she does."
Dominic narrowed his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're useful to her."
"I'm her superior."
"And you're responsive."
"That's called leadership."
Adrian leaned forward slightly.
"Leadership ends at the office, your daughter's presentation should have been your priority ."
Dominic frowned. "I came."
"You were late."
"It was unavoidable."
Adrian held his gaze steadily.
"Is it cheating?"
"No."
"Do you have feelings for her?"
"No."
"Then what is it?"
Dominic hesitated.
"It's... efficient."
Adrian almost smiled.
"That's not the word I'd use."
Dominic's tone hardened slightly.
"I am not having an affair."
"I didn't say you were."
Silence settled between them.
Adrian spoke carefully.
"Sometimes the problem isn't betrayal. It's proximity."
Dominic didn't like that.
"She's my assistant."
"And Seraphina is your wife."
He stood.
"This is being exaggerated."
Adrian didn't stop him.
But he watched him leave with something close to concern.
?
That night, Dominic came home earlier than usual.
He found Seraphina in the living room, helping Isla color.
He sat beside them.
"Show me your rainforest."
Isla explained enthusiastically.
He listened carefully.
Truly present.
Seraphina noticed.
It hurt more.
Because he could be like this.
He just wasn't consistently.
Later, after Isla slept, Dominic approached her.
"I'm not cheating."
She looked at him calmly.
"I didn't say you were."
"You're acting like I am."
"I'm acting like I feel replaced in small ways."
"You're not replaced."
"Then stop behaving like I am optional."
That silenced him.
His phone buzzed.
He didn't check it immediately.
It buzzed again.
He glanced.
Natalia.
Board appreciated your follow-up today. Thank you again.
He stared at the screen longer than necessary.
Then typed back.
Glad it helped.
When he looked up, Seraphina was watching him.
Not accusing.
Not crying.
Just... understanding.
Understanding that he didn't even realize how often he reached.
And that realization carved something deeper than anger.
She stood.
"I'm tired."
"Seraphina—"
She paused.
"You keep telling yourself this is professional," she said quietly.
"It is."
"Then why does it feel personal?"
He had no answer.
She went upstairs.
Dominic remained seated.
Phone in hand.
For the first time, a thin thread of doubt brushed against him.
Not about Natalia.
About himself.
Upstairs, Seraphina stood by the window again.
She wasn't planning anything.
She wasn't packing.
She wasn't accusing.
She was simply stepping back inside herself.
And that shift was almost invisible.
Almost.
But when a woman stops fighting to be prioritized...
The distance stops being temporary.
?
Downstairs, Dominic typed one more message.
Upstairs, Seraphina stopped waiting for the sound of his footsteps.
Neither realized the next missed moment would not be forgiven so quietly
End of chapter 7
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