His expression says he doesn’t believe me for a second. “I couldn’t help overhearing your phone call earlier.”
“Which one?” I ask, then realize he means my conversation with my lawyer. “Of course you did.”
He has the grace to look slightly abashed. “These walls are thinner than the contractors promised.”
I sigh. “It’s fine. Nothing I wouldn’t have told you eventually.”
Christopher studies me. “So Dominic hasn’t signed the annulment papers.”
“No.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
I laugh humorlessly. “Confused? Angry? Hopeful? Take your pick.”
Christopher leans back in his chair. “You know, you gave me relationship advice once.”
I nod, remembering how I’d encouraged him to pursue Lucy Hammond even though it seemed he’d lost all hope of ever getting her back.
“So now it’s my turn to return the favor.”
I sink into the chair across from him. “I’m all ears. God knows I need help.”
He smiles slightly. “Most relationship conflicts aren’t truly about incompatibilities, communication gaps, or even emotional wounds.”
I raise an eyebrow. “No?”
“No. They’re because of differences between how fast each person processes emotional events. Think of it as... an emotional metabolism.”
I stare at him. “An emotional metabolism? I wasn’t expecting something... so profound.”
Christopher laughs. “I’m a billionaire. I speak in profundities.”
Despite everything, I smile. “Go on.”
“One partner rapidly cycles through emotions, quickly interpreting and resolving conflict, while the other processes them slowly, experiencing the same event more intensely or with delayed resonance.” He leans forward. “We assume others’ emotional metabolisms match our own, which creates misunderstandings and resentment.”
The words hit home. Dom carrying his brother’s trauma in secret, letting it fester and control his decisions while refusing to actually address it head-on. Meanwhile, I process emotions like I’m sorting laundry, methodically separating lights from darks, addressing each feeling as it comes in.
“Recognition of this difference in processing speeds,” Christopher continues, “can open up a hidden path toward unity and understanding.”
“Thank you, Christopher,” I say softly.
When I return to my desk, I sit for a long time, thinking. I replay Dominic’s message again. Read the article again. Consider the changes he’s making.
I think about Rylan, who left me at the altar and never once took responsibility. Who made excuses and blamed circumstances. Who never fought for me or changed a single thing about himself.
Then I think about Dom. Who betrayed me, yes. Who hurt me deeply. But who is also, it seems, actually trying to change. Taking responsibility. Not making excuses.
I text Sabrina:Rain check on tonight? Need time to think.
Her reply comes quickly:Is it because of the Rossi Developments article I sent you?
Yes and no, I return.
He contacted you, didn’t he? What did he say?
I hesitate, then type:That he loves me.