Page 1 of Return To Love

Chapter One

Dominic D’Souza checkedhis Rolex for the hundredth time and cast another anxious look out the large window by the plush booth. In the half hour since he’d arrived at his favorite French bistro, the ever-present PNW drizzle had turned into alarmingly fluffy snowflakes. Thick, powdery snow already blanketed the sidewalks and the parking lot, in a sharp contrast against the dark of the evening.

Around him, the mood around the bistro lifted, filled with exclamations of glee and wonder. Snow in December wasn’t unheard of. But the last thing he needed was a natural calamity ruining his carefully planned evening.

He hadn’t seen his wife Mona, or heard from her, in eight months.

After twenty-six years of being together—married for twenty-four of them—the last eight months had felt like an eternity.

He had moved through them like an untethered kite drifting in the sky without direction or joy. Even his IT company—the symbol of his success, had turned into a bitter fruit in his head, given it had become the means through which he’d lost her.

The break Mona had demanded had forced him to see he had treated her like his personal assistant and a hostess. Even a prize he had to keep earning, rather than as a partner. As a woman with her own needs and dreams.

That she had used the said break to travel through India, a vacation he had promised her for so long, made the truth sting more.

For an allegedly brilliant businessman who’d built an IT company from scratch, Mona’s admission that she was miserable in their life had blindsided him. That he’d let her go through a major, life-changing surgery alone while he chased a milestone contract for his company…shamed him months later.

Rubbing a hand over his freshly shaved face, he sighed.

What if she’d realized she was better off without him and his workaholic, non-communicative ass?

What if she had found a man who appreciated her instead of being caught up in his own insecurities?

A husky voice speaking to the maître d' had him sit up straight. His heart thudded against his ribcage, as if rattling its walls with uncontrollable excitement.

Dressed in a chocolate-colored satin dress that clung to her big tits and fluttered over her knees, Mona looked like a decadent dessert he wanted to inhale in one gulp.

God, he had forgotten the effect her hourglass, pin-up worthy figure had on him.

Years ago, when they’d first started going out—he a skinny, bespectacled nerd and she a popular social butterfly—he’d waited with endless patience to worship those tits and that ass. Time and life had only made her hotter and brighter and wiser.

Pendant lights hanging in a cluster from the ceiling picked out copper-gold highlights in her wavy hair. Her make-up was subtle, making her rosebud mouth shimmer pink. Black stilettos and a black clutch complimented her classy look.

As if sensing him, she looked up.

Her brown gaze drifted over his features with swift greed, making his skin hum. God, he’d missed her gaze on him. He’d missed her wit, her laughter, and her soft, deep kisses.

A soft smile curved her lips.

Under the table, Dom patted a hand over his stomach, willing the roaring dragons inside to calm down.

She was here.

She was giving him, them, another chance.

And he would not waste it, would never take her for granted again.

Not this Goddess who had stood by him through near-bankruptcy, who had raised their twins from when she’d been twenty, mostly alone, who had acted as nurse and advisor and everything in between to him. The woman who had turned her back on her parents’ wealth and an easy luxury life because she believed in him and loved him.

With each step she took toward him, maneuvering through the crowd and tables, his resolve firmed.

There was one thing Mona had always wanted from him that he hadn’t delivered. Because he had been too busy and too tired, chasing wealth and status she’d never asked for.

So that’s where he would begin tonight.

Chapter Two

Mona D’Souza felther tummy roll and dive as she walked towards her husband of twenty-four years. Every inch of her thrummed as if she was embarking on a first date with a man she’d crushed on in secret.

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