Page 20 of Reclaimed Dreams

At first he’d been miffed about being excluded from his own show, but after seeing the footage, he’d quickly realized Jake was right. He was better off behind the scenes. Besides, he hadn’t anticipated the nerves or stage fright being as debilitating as it was.

But as owner of Valenti Brothers Construction, at least for a little while longer, he had a vested interest in making sure the build was progressing to his standards. He knew only too well how rushing, in this case to meet a TV production schedule, could lead to errors and shoddy construction. This show was supposed to solidify their reputation, not demolish it.

Dom strolled from room to room, checking wiring and framing, growing more and more impressed with what his crew had accomplished. Adrian and Sofia made a good team when they managed to stop sniping at each other.

He checked out the chandelier in the dining room and wondered how far over budget it had set them. He could admit it made a statement though. Sofia was certainly displaying her talent on these projects.

As if summoned by his thoughts, his eldest daughter’s voice drifted to him from the kitchen around the corner.

“Have you noticed anything strange about Mom lately?” she asked.

“Other than the fact that she’s still royally pissed at Dad?” Frankie replied. “Not really. Why?”

“We met for coffee, and she just seemed…off.”

Dom knew he shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but if something was wrong with Jo, he needed to know, and she still wasn’t speaking to him.

“Like what?” Frankie asked, helpfully.

“Well, first she ordered a mocha—”

“GASP! Not a chocolate coffee!”

“Would you please take this seriously? Have you ever seen her drink anything other than drip coffee with milk or a skim latte?”

“No, but a change in coffee order doesn’t exactly make me panic.”

“She was so angry about everything, and she couldn’t put her phone down for five minutes.”

“Again, I’m not seeing anything…”

Sofia cut her off. “She freaked out when I asked about bringing Adrian to a Friday dinner as my date, and said she didn’t want to see me go down the same path she had.”

That comparison felt like a misfired staple gun to his chest. She didn’t want Sofia to have a marriage like theirs? He didn’t have time to ponder that because Fi’s next words smashed into his heart like a sledgehammer.

“And then she said she was considering leaving Dad.”

“What the hell? Way to bury the lead, Fi!”

“I’m worried, Frankie.”

Dom was trying to figure out how to breathe with this new gaping hole in his chest where his heart had been. It wasn’t going well.

“No. No way. I mean I know she’s mad, but she wouldn’t really leave, would she?”

“I don’t know… She left with some dude with slick silver hair and a slick silver car to match. She said it was just a trip with her seniors’ club, but I don’t know why that would make her so jumpy…”

Dom’s mind went to static at that last revelation. She’d already replaced him? He’d always known deep down that Jo was out of his league, and that she deserved so much better, but he’d never expected she’d have reason to go looking for it.

Despite the fact that he couldn’t feel his feet, Dom had to move. He couldn’t stay and hear another word of this. He stumbled backward out of the dining room as quickly as he could. He made it into his truck and just sat there, immobilized by doubt.

She wanted to leave? The question played on a loop in his head, each repetition hitting his brain with the force of a nail gun, leaving a stabbing pain in its wake. He’d thought he had time. Time to fix things. Time to win her over. Time to figure out how to give her what she wanted.

Maybe she had a point with all of her “seize the day” and “the time is now” jabs.

He had known she was pissed that he hadn’t consulted with her before starting the show, but he hadn’t known how close she was to the end of her rope. The idea of life without Jo was untenable. His battered brain quite literally couldn’t even picture that reality. He didn’t ever want to know what that would feel like. He couldn’t let her go, not without the fight of his life.

When his hands began to ache he realized he’d been clutching the steering wheel so hard that his fingers were white. Dom hauled in a deep breath and released the wheel.

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