Page 17 of Accidental Doctor Daddy

I had spent far too much time trying to dissect Leo’s family from a distance, and I decided enough was enough. The Mortolis would get no more energy from me.

Except Leo had told me Dom worked at a hospital near the restaurant I worked at. That was why he never visited me at work—he didn’t want to chance running into his dad.

Ugh. None of this lined up. As much as I didn’t want to give them my time and attention, I hated it when I had more questions than answers. And Leo’s characterization of Dom did not align with anything I had learned about him last night. He wasn’t inattentive or cold. He was focused and hot.

So damn hot.

Stop that.

The whole thing left me confused. The intimacy we had shared was unlike anything I had experienced. As I replayed our conversations, his words echoed in my mind, revealing a man who could have been more than a hookup. He was someone I connected with.

Truth be told, we had more of a connection in a single night than I had with Leo for two years.

His son. He’s his son. Get your head out of your ass.

It wasn’t only about me at this point. Leo had a shitty relationship with his father. If he learned about last night…I shouldn’t care what he’d do with the information, but I did. As much as he had hurt me, I still didn’t want him to be hurt by this. More than that, I didn’t want to be a wedge between Dom and Leo. Their relationship was hanging by a thread, and I heard the pain in Dom’s voice when he spoke of Leo.

I couldn’t be what drove them further apart.

Leaving without a word might have been cowardly at the time, but looking back on it now, it was the only choice.

For me and for them.

But that was cold comfort on the airplane. The intimacy we had shared was something I’d never forget. The kind of thing poets write about. And maybe I would one day. But maintaining a distance was a safeguard for my vulnerable heart.

The poet in me wondered a ponderous question. Was I protecting my heart, or was I running from the very thing I had longed for my whole life?

The truth was, it didn’t matter either way. I had left Dom’s room to save myself from admitting I’d nailed my ex’s father and to maintain control over my life. If I had stayed, if I had told him the truth, what horrors would that have wrought?

I couldn’t date Dom, no matter how much of a connection we had. Aside from being who he was, he had eighteen years on me. He started voting the year I was born. How could we possibly have had a relationship that was more than a punchline?

Logically, I knew some people had good relationships with big age gaps. But that didn’t stop others from judging them over it. Hell, I’d judged people for that kind of thing before.

There was no possible way for us to work out. So, really, what was I worried about?

Never seeing Dom again.

Oh, shut up.

My inner voices only ever argued like this when I truly wanted something. I knew what that meant, and I knew that it didn’t matter. Dominic Mortoli was off-limits, thanks to his son who had wasted two years of my life.

No. I had wasted that time with him. I could have left him at any time, but I had stayed. Since the breakup, I’d replayed a lot of moments between us, good and bad. The more I examined us, the more I realized how much we were together out of convenience.

With his artist’s schedule of waking up whenever he wanted to wake up and having the freedom and money to do whatever whenever, I didn’t have to worry about him not being available when I felt like seeing him. My schedule was the crazy one. I was the one with ambition and dedication to my job, and I couldn’t work from home like he could, so my place was a convenient spot for him to escape his work whenever.

I cared for Leo. But it was never love. Neither of us had ever even tried to say the L-word to each other.

The first Christmas, I had asked about meeting his family. He told me he wasn’t seeing them for the holiday, so I didn’t need to worry about it. Then, last Christmas, he said they weren’t inviting friends for the holiday.

Friends. Like that was all I was to him.

Dom showed more care for me in a single night than Leo ever had. As much as I hated the circumstances, I was glad I’d met him and taken a chance. No morning’s reality could wash away the memories of the night I’d had.

The realization that I might never see him again struck with an acute sharpness. Beneath the surface, a stubborn ember of hope glowed warm—the hope that perhaps this wasn’t the end, that perhaps fate had more in store for us than a steamy night followed by a cruel morning.

No. I knew better than that. I was Fate’s punching bag. Nothing more.

I made myself comfortable and asked for a flute of champagne as a balm for my bruised heart. The island had worked its magic. I’d gone from wounded to merely bruised, thanks to a fleeting connection and phenomenal sex.

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