15. Lena #2
“Dominic, everyone loves you. What are you even saying? You need me to chase away all the women trying to love you? You don’t need me to love you?”
He lets out a soft, bitter laugh. Almost a scoff. His eyes drop to mine, heavy and distant.
“Well, Sassy, that’s where you’re wrong.
There’s not much love out there for the oldest son of a father who’s constantly disappointed in how ‘ responsible ’ I am with the family legacy.
Or for a mother who only lives for her younger son.
There’s no motherly love left for the one who took away the love of her life. ”
He exhales hard through his nose, like the words cost him. “Axel, he really loved me. He trusted me blindly. I was his everything. His big brother, his role model, his rock.”
His jaw clenches. For a second, he closes his eyes. “And I failed him. Completely. Irrevocably. Days like this? They come back to torture me for the rest of my life. And yeah, I deserve it. I deserve to suffer for how reckless I was.”
A pause. His gaze drops to my hands, still resting on his knees.
“You, Sassy… you’re only an illusion. One day you’ll leave, and that little patch of light in my heart… it’ll go dark for good.”
“Dominic… is today the day you lost Axel?”
“It’s the day I lost the right to be loved, Lena. The day I lost the only person who ever truly saw me as a human being.”
Oh, God. It can’t be true. His family...
I saw it during that short visit how broken things were.
I should’ve figured it out from the way he felt at home with my family.
He has no idea what we went through. It wasn’t always like this, warm and welcoming.
There was a time… after what happened to me, when everything in my family cracked open.
And for a while, none of us knew if we’d ever heal.
I rise slowly and reach for him gently, pulling him into me.
He comes without resistance, resting his forehead against my body.
His arms wrap tightly around my hips, like I’m the only solid thing left in the world.
I slide my fingers into his hair, tangling them through the strands, messing it up only to feel him.
To let him feel me. His breath is warm against me.
But when I move my hands to his face, I feel it… Tears. My chest clenches.
Dominic… This beautiful, impossible man. So strong, but so broken.
I lower myself slowly, crouching in front of him, and press a soft kiss to his lips. Fleeting. Full of everything I can’t say.
I take the glass from the table and offer it to him. He takes it and drinks. A small sip, then he passes it back. Our eyes meet. No words, just knowing. I drink and keep the glass. I want him lucid.
He sits back, quiet for a moment. His voice comes low and tight. “It’s not a pretty story. You’ll be disappointed.”
I don’t say anything. He’s finally opening up, so I won’t risk ruining it with something dumb. I hold on to the glass and wait.
He clears his throat and pulls me into his lap. One arm settles around my back, the other resting loosely on his knee. For a moment, he stares out the window. Silent. Eventually, he begins.
“The Navy, and the guys I served with, they were the most real, solid thing I’ve ever had in my life.
And the ironic part? I never even wanted to enlist. As the eldest son, I was supposed to take over the business.
Life after college was good. Women, parties…
but I worked hard too. It was the perfect setup for a guy in his mid-twenties. ”
He fidgets beneath me, just a little, his voice growing flat. “Until the bomb dropped. My younger brother, five years younger, signed up for the Navy. Right here, at the local base. He didn’t care that Mom was crying. Didn’t care that Dad was threatening him.”
His fingers drum lightly against his knee. A restless rhythm he doesn’t seem to notice. “Axel always did whatever the hell he wanted. He was the youngest, and the most spoiled. No real responsibilities. Mom’s favorite.”
The memory seems to snag on something. “He tried a dozen hobbies, none of them stuck. Dad called him aimless. Mom always said he’d grow out of it.”
He straightens slightly.
“So what did he do? He enlisted in the Navy. Out of nowhere.”
He shakes his head, still staring out the window. “I couldn’t stand seeing my mom that crushed. So I signed up too, thinking it was just a phase. That he’d quit the second things got hard.”
His eyes catch on the window, but he’s somewhere else entirely.
“But he didn’t quit. And neither did I. I adapted faster than I thought I would. And somehow, it turned into something great. The two of us, cut off from home, thrown into a world where none of the old rules mattered.”
He sighs and shifts his gaze to the floor. “For a while, it felt like we built our own universe. Brotherhood. Purpose. We volunteered for everything. Together.”
He draws in a breath. “Dad pulled some strings to keep us stationed close to home. He said it was logistics, but it was really for Mom. We went along with it, for her.”
He falls quiet for a moment. “But anytime we got the chance to go farther, we took it. Missions, trainings, joint ops. Whatever it was, we did it side by side.”
His voice drops, heavier now. “And after three years, it hit again. Another bomb. We were both recruited into the Special Ops Unit.”
Dominic talked fast, like he’s practiced this confession a thousand times, but only for himself. And now that it’s coming out, every word seems to cut deeper.
He reaches for the glass. There’s still a bit left. I hold it tighter, refusing to let go.
“Don’t act like a wife,” he mutters.
I let him take a sip, then take one too. The burn hits my throat fast; I’m not used to drinking.
“What happened in Special Ops?” I ask.
“What happens there… usually stays there.”
“Dominic, stop hiding. This is eating you alive. I’ve never seen you like this. Talking will help. I know it will.”
“I don’t need help,” he snaps. “I don’t want to feel better. I shouldn’t feel better. This is what I deserve.”
My voice softens. “But I need it, Dominic. It breaks my heart to see you like this. I want to be there for you, but I can’t. Not unless you tell me everything.”
“As if you tell me everything.”
“I will. One day, when it’s my turn. But right now, it’s yours. Please, just finish the story.”
“There’s not much left. We’d been in the Navy for eight years. Four of those in Special Ops. One mission, Red Sea. Pirates hijacked a civilian cargo ship supplying the Navy. Our team was deployed to recover it. The op went according to plan… until it didn’t.”
“That’s when Axel died?”
He nods. Once. Very slow.
“But that’s not your fault. People die on missions like that. You didn’t ask for any of this. You were with him for years. Why do you still blame yourself?”
“Try telling that to the mother who lost her favorite son… while the other one gets to live in luxury.”
“I can understand that. From a mother’s perspective. Survivor’s guilt is real.”
“Don’t start with psychology. That’s not what this is.”
“What is it, then? Just say it.”
He looks right at me. “He died because of me. The one time in my life I hesitated.”
He stops for a beat, his voice turning to gravel. “We’d just landed, upper deck, fresh out of the helicopters. The control room door opens, and this kid comes out. A girl, maybe fourteen. Barefoot, tiny, and holding a gun. She was the captain’s daughter. I found that out later.”
He swallows hard. “I froze. For a heartbeat. She didn’t. She shot Axel. Hit Gabriel in the leg, too. A moment—that’s all it took. I raised my weapon, but someone else fired first. One of ours.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, then continues. “The rest of the team rushed in seconds later. Too late. Axel died in my arms.”
I freeze. I look at him like I’m seeing him for the first time. His whole body seems to have given up. He’s no longer the strong, charismatic man who used to challenge me. He’s a brother bent under guilt. A man wrecked by memory. A soul dragged down by a weight he was never meant to carry.
And I have no idea what to say. What words could possibly bring comfort when something so deep and defining in his life lies buried beneath all that pain?
“Dominic…” My voice is barely a whisper, soft and trembling. I don’t have a plan. I just don’t want to see him like this anymore.
He blinks slowly, like it takes effort to pull himself back into the present.
“I’m glad I insisted on finding you. Even if it meant acting like a jealous wife.”
“Why?” he asks, still not looking at me.
“So that I could meet you. Not the man from the tabloids. Not the arrogant CEO. Not the husband I argue with. You. A man carrying a burden no brother should ever have to bear.”
He breathes in, shallow and uneven. “My whole life, I was taught not to feel. Not to show anything. Not to break. That’s why I pull away sometimes, like I did today. I’m sorry.”
I rise slowly and kneel in front of him, setting the glass on the table. There’s no pride left. No walls. I take his hand gently between both of mine.
“You can feel, Dominic. You should. You’re not guilty of having a heart. You didn’t let him die. Axel fought beside you because he trusted you, not because he expected you to take the bullet for him.”
His fingers tighten around mine. Just a little.
But it’s enough. I know. I don’t need words.
I draw him in, folding myself around the weight of him, my arms a quiet shelter.
At first, he doesn’t move. Then slowly, with heartbreaking hesitation, he lets his forehead rest on my shoulder.
His arms come around me too, loose, uncertain.
It’s not passion. It’s a refuge. Like he’s taking shelter in me. I feel him breathe, heavy and uneven, as if each exhale leaves a piece of him behind in my arms.
There, in the stillness of the night, under the cold light of the moon, something shifts between us. Not attraction. Not duty. Something deeper, built on pain. On bare truths. A quiet promise that maybe, just maybe, we’ll learn to live with the shadows.
Together.