Page 87 of You're The One
“My boy?—”
“Your boy?” he cuts in, a mix of disbelief and anger.
Krista blinks, unfazed. “How’ve you been?”
I rest my hand on the arm of his chair in silent support. He accepts it, pulling mine into his lap and sandwiching it between both of his.
The chef steps in, setting a plate and glass in front of her. She grabs the bottle from the center of the table and pours, the glug of wine painfully loud in the stunned silence.
“You look even better than I remember. I’ve missed you so much?—”
“You’ve missed me?” He huffs a bitter laugh. “That’s rich.”
My eyes flick to Bodhi, who’s stepped out from behind the cameras with an uncertain expression. He gives a small shake of his head, and I can’t tell if it’s a warning or a denial of involvement.
Krista keeps going like her being here is normal. “I’m sorry our schedules haven’t aligned?—”
“For the past eight years—” His knee bounces under the table. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.”
Dom’s chair scrapes loudly against the wood floor as he stands in a rush. His jaw clenches so hard the muscle twitches.
“Honey—” She starts.
Without a word, he walks out of the room. The back door clicks shut, the sound carrying through the silence that’s swallowed the table.
No one moves.
“What was that?” Hannah whispers, her wide eyes darting from the door to Dom’s empty chair.
Ryan keeps watching me like I’m a puzzle he can’t quite figure out. And Charlie hasn’t said anything, still staring at Krista like he’s not convinced she’s actually here.
Krista doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe she just doesn’t care.
She turns to me with a too-bright smile. “And who are you?” As if her son didn’t just flee.
Her deep blue eyes match Dominic’s, but there's a glassy distance in hers I’ve never seen in his.
Before I can answer, Bodhi motions to the crew and the cameras lower. A small mercy.
I half expect them to chase after Dominic, but they don’t. Which tells me Bodhi didn’t know. That production wasn’t in on this. Because if they were, they’d be capitalizing on it. This is TV gold. The fact that they’re not earns them a sliver of my respect.
I hesitate. I could go after Dominic—every part of me wants to—but that would only raise more questions. And someone needs to clean up this mess.
And somehow, I know he’d do the same for me if the roles were reversed.
I stand.
“I’m Mia,” I answer evenly, then tilt my head and let my gaze sweep over her. “But the more important question is, who are you? And why are you here?”
She laughs. “I’m here to see my son, of course.”
“Are you?” I fold my arms. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like he wants nothing to do with you. He just walked out of his own house to get away from you.”
I hope I’m not overstepping. I’m going off what he’s shared, and the fierce protectiveness sweeping through me.
Something in me snaps. All the heat I used to waste on Dom in our worst moments—it's back. But this time it’s for her. For the woman who abandoned him, and now has the audacity to walk in like she’s entitled to be a part of his life.
“You need to leave.”
