Chapter 9 - THE MAN WHO DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO BE GENTLE
Dominic asked me to dinner on a Sunday.
Not at a private club.
Not in one of his expensive restaurants.
He suggested a little Italian place near the river, where the tables were covered in paper and the owner personally served the pasta.
I hesitated.
"Is this a business meeting?"
"No."
"An interrogation?"
He almost smiled.
"No."
"Then what is it?"
His expression changed.
"A date. If you want one."
I stared at him.
For a moment, I heard Ben's warning.
You see someone bleeding and forget the rest of the world exists.
I knew Dominic was dangerous.
I knew he had participated in things I couldn't excuse.
But I also knew he was attempting to confront his past instead of hiding behind his reputation.
"I'll have dinner," I said. "But I'm not promising anything beyond that."
He nodded immediately.
"Fair."
He arrived without a watch that cost more than my apartment.
That was my first surprise.
The second was that he seemed nervous.
He pulled out my chair, then stopped.
"Is that okay?"
I smiled.
"Yes."
He sat.
For several minutes, we talked about ordinary things.
My favorite books.
His dislike of crowded elevators.
Ben's engineering classes.
The fact that Dominic had never learned to cook anything more complicated than scrambled eggs.
"You own restaurants," I said.
"That doesn't mean I know how to cook."
"That's ridiculous."
He smiled.
"People have said worse."
Then I asked, "What did you want to be when you were little?"
He looked surprised.
Nobody had ever asked him that.
He considered.
"A sailor."
I laughed.
"Because of the boat drawings?"
He nodded.
"I wanted somewhere nobody knew my name."
His expression softened.
"Somewhere I could wake up without checking who was waiting outside the door."
I looked at him.
"And now?"
He studied me.
"Now I'd settle for a home where nobody was afraid of me."
After dinner, we walked along the river.
Dominic stopped beside the railing.
"Lily, I need to be clear about something."
I turned.
"I've done things that make me a poor choice for anyone seeking an uncomplicated life."
"I know."
"I've hurt people."
"I know that too."
He looked away.
"I'm trying to change what I can. But that doesn't erase the past."
I studied him.
"Then don't ask me to pretend it does."
He nodded.
"I won't."
I took a breath.
"And if we're going to keep seeing each other, I need to know you're serious about getting out of criminal operations."
His jaw tightened.
"That isn't simple."
"I didn't say simple."
He looked at me.
Then nodded slowly.
"You're right."
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then he asked, "May I hold your hand?"
My heart began racing.
It was such an ordinary question.
But coming from a man who had made physical distance into a rule, it felt enormous.
I held out my hand.
He took it carefully.
His fingers were warm.
He looked down at them as though the sensation were unfamiliar.
Then he smiled.
A real smile.
And I understood why he'd looked so stunned in the diner.
It wasn't merely that I touched his face.
It was that nobody had taught him how safe an ordinary touch could feel.
Over the following weeks, Dominic and I saw each other when our schedules allowed.
I continued working at Harbor Light.
He never asked me to quit.
He didn't offer to buy me an apartment or pay Ben's tuition.
Instead, he showed up with coffee after my shifts and asked about my day.
Sometimes we argued.
He was accustomed to solving problems with money.
I was accustomed to solving them myself.
We both had a lot to learn.
One evening, I told him a customer had been rude.
Dominic immediately asked for the man's name.
I stared at him.
"No."
He looked confused.
"What?"
"You are not going to intimidate somebody because he complained about cold fries."
Dominic slowly closed his mouth.
Then, unexpectedly, laughed.
"You're right."
I shook my head.
"That's twice this week."
He smiled.
"Don't get used to it."
At the end of our fourth date, Dominic stood outside my apartment.
He looked at me.
"Lily."
"Yes?"
"Can I kiss you?"
My pulse raced.
I smiled.
"Yes."
His kiss was gentle.
Hesitant at first.
Then warmer when I stepped closer.
When we separated, his forehead rested briefly against mine.
He whispered, "I didn't know it could feel like that."
I looked up.
"Like what?"
"Safe."
My eyes filled.
I kissed him again.
May you like
Not because he was a powerful man.
But because, for the first time, he seemed willing to become someone who didn't need power to be loved.
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