Chapter 9 - THE LAST THING DOMINIC ASKED FOR
Three years after the divorce, Dominic called.
Not texted.
Called.
Elena almost let it go to voicemail.
Then answered.
“Hello?”
“Elena.”
His voice sounded different.
Older.
“Hi.”
“I’m in New York.”
“Okay.”
“My father died.”
She stopped.
Dominic’s father had been difficult.
Cruel in ways Dominic had only begun naming late in their marriage.
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
Silence.
Then:
“I found something.”
“What?”
“Letters from my mother.”
Elena sat.
“What kind?”
“About him.”
She understood.
“Do you want to talk?”
A pause.
“If you're willing.”
They met the next afternoon in a public café.
Not Aurelia House.
Not the penthouse.
Neutral.
Dominic looked healthy.
Less polished.
Gray at his temples.
No expensive watch.
Or perhaps Elena simply no longer noticed.
He placed a folder down.
“My mother knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That my father married her partly for her family’s hotel property.”
Elena almost laughed at the symmetry.
“He used her inheritance.”
“Yes.”
“Did she leave?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“She thought being chosen at all was enough.”
Dominic looked toward the window.
“I read that sentence and heard you.”
Elena said nothing.
“I spent years hating my father.”
“And became him.”
“Yes.”
No defensiveness.
Growth.
Dominic continued.
“My therapist says recognizing the pattern after repeating it does not make me special.”
“Smart therapist.”
“He charges accordingly.”
Elena smiled.
Then he grew serious.
“I need to ask you something.”
Her guard rose.
Not visibly.
“What?”
“Did you ever believe I loved you?”
Elena considered.
“Yes.”
He looked surprised.
“I still do.”
“You do?”
“I believe you loved me.”
His eyes filled.
“Then why did I do all that?”
She shook her head.
“That is no longer my question to answer.”
He nodded slowly.
Fair.
Then:
“Do you forgive me?”
There it was.
Three years.
Finally.
Elena looked at the man who once laughed at her behind a door.
The man who held her when her mother died.
The man who cheated.
The man who wrote the apology.
The man who destroyed part of his own life.
The man trying, apparently, to become someone else.
“I don't wake up angry anymore.”
His breath caught.
“I don't hear your voice when I get dressed most mornings.”
Most.
“I don't need you punished.”
Dominic looked down.
“Is that forgiveness?”
“Maybe.”
He waited.
“But I am not giving you a certificate.”
He laughed through tears.
“Fair.”
Elena smiled.
“I hope your life is good.”
“It’s quieter.”
“Good?”
“Better.”
He told her about his smaller company.
Eleven employees.
No giant loans.
He hired an actual CFO.
Elena laughed.
“Growth.”
“I hate spreadsheets now for legitimate reasons.”
They talked for forty minutes.
Then Dominic stood.
Before leaving:
“Elena.”
“Yes?”
“You were never invisible.”
She felt the old wound stir.
Dominic continued.
“I just benefited from pretending not to see you.”
That was probably the truest apology he had ever given.
“Goodbye, Dominic.”
“Goodbye, Ellie.”
She almost corrected the nickname.
Then didn't.
It no longer belonged to him enough to hurt.
He left.
Elena remained for another ten minutes.
Then ordered coffee to go.
Outside, Manhattan moved around her.
No cinematic revelation.
No new man waiting.
No revenge.
No photographers.
She walked three blocks to Bennett Harbor’s Manhattan office because the weather was beautiful.
That evening, she told Dr. Chen about the meeting.
“Closure?” the therapist asked.
Elena groaned.
“I hate that word.”
“Good.”
“What do you call it?”
Dr. Chen thought.
“Information.”
Elena smiled.
Yes.
Information.
Dominic was alive.
Changing.
Regretful.
No longer hers.
She was alive.
Changing.
No longer his.
May you like
That was enough.
---
