Page 77 of Loss and Damages
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure, but that doesn’t mean you would choose me. I don’t know what’s going on, but if you have to walk away, I told you in my letter that I wouldn’t blame you and I wouldn’t hate you. I meant it.”
Tears fill his eyes, and I wrap my arms around his neck, sliding my fingers through his hair. His arms circle my back, bands of steel where I feel safe, not trapped. He won’t let anyone hurt me. Not his mother, not his father, not anyone opposed to the way he runs his business. I would never be looking over my shoulder like Jeremy said because if Dominic chose me, there would be no reason to.
He would change, if he asked me to marry him, but I know, somehow with my woman’s intuition, he won’t.
His embrace loosens, and I brush a kiss over his mouth. “I love you, too.”
“But that doesn’t mean you would accept my proposal.”
“We can’t control who we fall in love with, but I’d like to think my heart wouldn’t choose poorly. You know I don’t agree with your plans for the 1100 block and Oakdale Square, but you never explained why you’re doing what you’re doing. Maybe it’s not my place to judge.”
“I don’t deserve you.” His voice is low and sad.
“I think out of anyone in St. Charlotte, you deserve me most. Especially if you feed me.”
“Can we visit Edgar?” he asks, standing and zipping up his pants.
I tip my head and smile. It doesn’t lighten his features, but I don’t think I have the power to do that. Maybe one day, but not today. “That would be perfect.”
Before we walk into town, I change out of my dress and into a cotton skirt and a sleeveless blouse. I have plans for us after dinner and I carry a backpack that’s stuffed with a blanket.
We don’t speak as we amble along the water to Leo’s favorite restaurant, and Dominic’s reflective and tense while we eat on the rooftop, sitting at the same table we did the first time I brought him here.
I’m not the kind of person who needs chatter, and I let him be during our meal. I try not to obsess about the conversation we had in my bedroom. He didn’t propose, and if I wasn’t so sympathetic and wanting to help him, I would have thought himcruel for giving me the hypothetical scenario. I didn’t tell him I would say yes, either, so maybe he’s smarting, too.
It’s too quick, I tell myself, pushing around a bite of lasagna I don’t have room to eat with my fork. I don’t know him well enough, and he would have to open up a lot more than he has before I’d even consider accepting a proposal. My heart might be telling me he’s the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, but my head needs proof.
“Are you ready?” he asks, frowning at the food I have left on my plate.
“Yeah.” I wrinkle my nose at him. “You can pay this time.”
He laughs, and it eases my heart. “Finish your wine.”
There’s a park a few blocks from the bar and grill that I wanted to go to, and we walk down the sidewalk, our fingers tangled together. Though there aren’t any children playing, I choose a spot away from the playground and spread the blanket out near a tree. I lie on my back, and he settles on his side, his head propped in his hand, his other resting on my belly.
I wonder if he’ll think about babies now until I tell him one way or the other, or if I’m just being stupid, hoping he cares more than he does and it won’t matter to him, whether he gets me pregnant or not. He said he wants to know, but what he’d do with the information I could only begin to guess.
“I’ve never done this before,” he mumbles against my lips.
“What? Made out under a tree?”
“Went to a park, spent time outside.”
“Your mom and dad didn’t bring you to the park?”
“Mynannywould have brought me, but my father didn’t think playing outside was a good use of my time,” he says, wiggling a little closer. “I’ve been groomed to take over the company since I could talk.”
“That sounds lonely.”
“Because it was. I did all my father asked of me, and still do. Since Leo had our mother’s attention, I’ve done everything I can to keep our father’s eyes on me.”
“Even now?” I lick at his lips and taste salt and beer.
“Even now. Especially now.”
“Why?”
