Page 49 of Defying Love

"Really, Mom, I've got it under control.” The good girl from the small town, once lost in the sprawling maze of Las Vegas, had found my footing. Now, I stood ready to extend a hand back to the one who had set me on my path. "It's my turn to help you."

"You don't know how much this means… to think of letting go of that job—the one that's been eating away at my nights…"

The image of my mom, weary from the relentless grind of a second shift, flashed before my eyes. I saw the tired slump of my mother's shoulders, the way her smile had begun to fray around the edges, worn down by the endless cycle of work and worry.

“I've seen you sacrifice so much. It's time for you to rest, to have the life you've dreamed of."

"Sweetheart, I?—"

"Please, just let me do this for you." The decision was not merely financial; it was my tribute, a symbol of the love and strength.

"Okay.”

"I love you. I can't wait to see you," I said.

"Neither can I, sweetheart. This house has been too quiet without your laughter."

The sentiment wrapped around me like a warm blanket, comforting yet heavy with the weight of unspoken words.

“I have to head into work now, sweetheart. But I’ll let them know I need the night off when you come in. Saturday?”

“We will be there that afternoon.”

“Alright. I love you.”

"Love you more," I replied.

The line went dead, but the warmth remained, because in two days, I'd step into the light of my mother's presence, and things would be back to how they belong.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Dominic

Iprowled, a caged animal trapped within the confines of the room's four walls. My hands, usually so steady and sure, now betrayed me with their subtle tremor; they were the hands of a man who had wielded power, and yet now, they clenched and unclenched at my sides in restless agitation.

The weight of my past—a tapestry woven with threads of violence and loyalty—hung heavy on my broad shoulders. The possibility of that hidden world spilling into the light of day, contaminating this pure moment, gnawed at the edges of my composure. Each imagined scenario was more catastrophic than the last, each one ending with the same piercing gaze of judgment from the one woman who held Alexa's heart in her hands.

As the silence suffocated me, the click of a door handle shattered the stillness, and she entered. Alexa, with her hair like spun gold and eyes that held the tranquility of the clearest sky, glided into the chaos of my turmoil. Instantly, the air seemed less oppressive, the shadows retreating from her inherent luminosity. She was my beacon, the lighthouse guiding me away from the jagged rocks of my own trepidation.

"Dom," she whispered, her voice a soothing balm, "she won't know. I promise."

Her words wrapped around me, a gentle embrace promising sanctuary. Her reassurance was a lifeline, tethering me to the here and now, away from the ghosts of my former life.

"Be yourself. That's the man I love. That's the man she'll love."

My gaze locked on to Alexa, meeting the calm azure of hers. In that moment, it was as if she had reached inside me and switched off the storm, her presence a powerful salve to the tempest that threatened to overwhelm me. I drew strength from her unwavering belief in me, allowing it to seep into my bones and steel my resolve.

"Okay," I breathed out, the single word a testament to the trust I placed in her. It was more than acquiescence; it was an acknowledgment of the bond we shared. Alexa, the light in my darkness, had offered her hand, and I grasped it, ready to step into the unknown, my fears quelled by her touch.

My gaze fixated on the door ahead, the barrier to a realm where my name held no infamy, where my hands weren’t stained by the deeds demanded by birthright. It was a threshold I had never imagined crossing, one that led to possibilities I dared not dream of before Alexa.

Her smile radiated a warmth that reached into the recesses of my guarded heart, melting away the layers of ice. It was a silent beacon of encouragement, a testament to her unwavering faith. In the curve of her lips, I found the courage that eluded me, the strength to face what lay beyond the safety of my constructed world.

Together, we approached the front door, steps in sync. I felt the cold metal of the doorknob beneath my palm, the final obstacle before stepping into the light of scrutiny. Alexa’s reassuring presence beside me was a balm to the last remnants of unease that clung stubbornly to my conscience.

With her by my side, I faced the unknown, the dark edges of my past receding. As we crossed the threshold, it wasn’t just a door we were opening, but the possibility of a life unchained from the ghosts that haunted me. A life illuminated by Alexa's love, untainted by the darkness I knew all too well.

There she stood—Anne, a figure so pivotal yet unmet, her smile like a beacon slicing through the shadows that clung to my psyche. The lines of worry that had etched themselves into my brow began to soften, dissolving under the weight of her maternal gaze.

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