Page 107 of Restore Me

My brows fall together. “Did you hear what I just said, Dom? Eric is dead because I was too selfish and cruel to let him see that I was afraid. If I would have acted like an adult and told him how I felt, he never would have been on the road that morning. He would have been home with me.”

“No!” I flinch at the sharpness of his tone, and Dom pushes out a rough breath through his nose. “I’m sorry for raising my voice, but how could you think telling me this would make me hate you?” He scrubs a hand over his face, and I just stare at him, too stunned by his words to come up with any of my own. “I could never hate you, Sloane.”

“You should.”

“Don’t tell me how to feel about you.” It’s a gentle warning wrapped in that commanding tone I’ve grown accustomed to, and it brooks no argument. “Angel, what you and Eric went through—the things that were broken between you that you never got the chance to fix—it all breaks my fucking heart for you and him, but you have to know that your chance to heal together was stolen from you because some asshole couldn’t be bothered to call an Uber while he was getting shitfaced at seven in the morning, not because you got into an argument and he left for work early.”

“But—”

“Eric might have been upset about the birth control thing,” he continues, ignoring my feeble attempt at protesting. “But I think we both know he was more hurt that you didn’t talk to him about it than anything. He loved you, Sloane, and if things didn’t happen the way they did, he would’ve come home with flowers and an apology. He would’ve held you in his arms and made you tell him everything you were keeping bottled up inside. And he would have listened to all of your fears and told you, like I’m telling you now, there was nothing wrong with being afraid.”

Fresh tears stream down my face as I listen to Dom, allowing him to paint me a picture of resolution and peace with his words. I’ve never imagined what it would have been like if Eric had made it home that day, but it feels nice to let the alternate reality wash over me, easing the ache in my heart with hypotheticals that are far more comforting than the memories I’ve been torturing myself with all day.

But I don’t deserve it.

I destroyed my life, my happiness because I was afraid, and for years I’ve honored my vow to never forget it. But this morning I realized that’s exactly what I’ve been doing, losing myself in Dom and this relationship that’s doomed to fail, allowing the heat of his body and the solace I’ve found in his arms to quiet the truth screaming in my veins. People only get one chance at happiness, one shot at real love, and I threw mine away. I wipe away the tear falling from his eye before it disappears into his beard.

“I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me.”

“What did you expect me to do, Sloane? Let you bare your soul to me and then leave you here, hurting and alone?”

That’s exactly what I expected, but it all sounds so ridiculous coming out of his mouth. Probably because the incredulity coating each word makes it sound perfectly unreasonable for me to be craving his fire and rage while he pins me with a sorrowful gaze that sees down to the depths of my soul.

Anger and frustration claw at my chest, and I push against him, struggling to break his hold. I need to put some space between us before I allow myself to find comfort in his arms that I don’t deserve. He releases me, and even though I’m the one who wanted space, as soon as I leave the heat of his body, I’m left with the distinct feeling of being set adrift.

Dom stares up at me, watching me pace back and forth in front of him like a caged animal. He’s calm, completely in control of his emotions, while I’m spinning out in front of him.

“I expect you to be disgusted that I’ve been so caught up in you I forgot what today is!” I narrow my eyes at him. “For four years, I’ve felt the onset of grief surrounding this day in my bones. There’s been no escaping it, no denying how completely I fucked up everything because of what happened to me on this day. It cost Eric his life. It cost Mama her son and Mal her brother.” The tears are back, blurring my vision so I can’t fully see his face. “It cost you your best friend. And I forgot. I woke up this morning and I was happy… ”

“You deserve to be happy, angel.”

“No, I don’t!”

I’m glad I can’t see myself right now because I feel positively feral. Chest heaving, hair flying in every direction, a blanket half wrapped around my body while tears stream down my face. There’s nothing remotely attractive or sexy about this moment, and despite Dom looking like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be, it’s not lost on me that this isn’t what he signed on for.

He’s here for my body, not my shattered heart.

Wiping my tears away, I push out a ragged breath. “You should go. This isn’t…dealing with my grief isn’t a part of our arrangement. Just go back to work and I’ll—”

“Shut up, Sloane.” He grabs my wrist to pull me back into his lap. I land on top of him with an irritated scowl.

“Did you just tell me to shut up?”

“Yes, because I didn’t want you to waste your breath on the rest of that sentence when we both know I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not?” I ask in a voice so small I can barely hear it.

“No.” He shifts my legs so I’m straddling him and slips his hands under my shirt. Over the past few days, he’s had me in this position countless times, but right now there’s nothing overtly sexual about us sitting like this. Nothing to suggest his interest in me is solely in my body, but then again, I knew that. “What do you know about my dad?”

All of my irritation fades away at the random question, replaced by confusion and a little bit of uncertainty. Every bit of information I have stored in my brain about Gabriel Alexander was given to me by Eric, Mal, or Mama. None of it, not a single thing, came from Dom, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to know or where he’s going with this line of questioning.

A deep laugh rumbles in his chest. “Relax. I know you’ve probably gotten an earful about my piece of crap father from everyone with Kent as their last name.”

“Yeah,” I say slowly. “But I think they were all just trying to help me understand you.”

Dom nods solemnly. “I’m sure they were. Luckily, it means I can skip over the part where I bore you with all of the details from my tragic childhood and get straight to my point.”

I frown, still confused. “Which is?”

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