Page 26 of Until You Break

His smirk tugs at one side of his mouth, those familiar dimples framing his smile, and my stomach flips, a shiver running down my spine.

“Hello, Little Sinner,” he says, his voice low, his words sliding through the air like a current, washing over me. “Miss me?”

A strangled sob escapes my throat, the tears slipping down before I can stop them, and I don’t think—I drop the mask and throw my arms around him, clutching him like he might disappear if I let go.

“Where have you been?” I sob, my face buried in his chest, the smell of him hitting me like a wave—a scent that pulls me back to the nights we spent together in that cell. “I looked for you everywhere. I came back, I tried… but you weren’t there.”

He stands still, letting me hold onto him, his arms moving slowly around me, solid and warm, the faint scent of pine and oil settling over me, just like it used to. For a moment, I can almost believe that we’re back there, that nothing’s changed, that the last five years haven’t ripped us apart.

But I feel the difference in him, in the way he holds me, like he’s letting me in but only just. His hand trails up my back, his fingers brushing the base of my neck, and I can feel his heartbeat, steady and calm, as if nothing in this world could ever shake him.

I pull back just enough to look at him, to search his face for answers, for something that can explain why he disappeared, why he left me with nothing but memories and a hollow ache that’s never gone away.

“Why didn’t you come to me?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, my hands clutching his shirt, afraid he’ll vanish if I let go. “Why didn’t you find me?”

He watches me, his gaze unflinching, like he’s waiting, weighing each of my words. That smirk lingers, though it’s softened now.

“Aria…” he says softly, almost like he’s tasting the sound of my name, like he’s savoring it.

He doesn’t answer my question, doesn’t offer any explanation. Instead, he just looks at me, and I can feel the weight of his silence, the pull of his presence, filling every corner of the room.

“Please, Dominic. I… I thought you were gone. I thought you didn’t want me.”

For a long, agonizing moment, he just stands there, letting my words hang in the air, his eyes locked on mine. Then he lifts a hand, his fingers brushing my cheek, rough and familiar, grounding me in a way that nothing else ever has.

“Who said I didn’t want you?” he murmurs, his voice soft and the hint of a challenge threading through his tone.

For a moment, I see a flicker of the Dominic I knew. But it’s gone in an instant, replaced by the look of a man who’s come back with secrets he has no intention of sharing.

“Then why…?” I choke out, the question trailing off, too many emotions tangling together, making it impossible to finish.

“Because, Little Sinner, you weren’t ready for me.”

The words send a shiver down my spine, and I feel my pulse race, my hands tightening on his shirt. There’s something in his gaze, something dark and possessive that sends a shiver through me.

“But now?” I manage, my voice barely steady. “Now you think I am?”

His smirk deepens, his hand still resting against my cheek, his touch both a comfort and a reminder of every scar, every memory we share. The hand resting on my cheek slips down to my throat and my pulse kicks up.

“Maybe,” he says, his tone teasing as his thumb runs over my pulse— a gesture that leaves me breathless. “Guess we’ll find out.”

I want to ask more, to demand answers, to make him explain everything he’s kept hidden, but his gaze holds me captive, the words slipping away as I look into those eyes that I know so well, yet feel like I’m seeing for the first time.

Finally, he steps back, his gaze lingering on me, his smirk softening into something almost tender, though I know betterthan to think he’ll let it show for long. Dominic’s never been one to let his guard down, not fully. I know that whatever brought him back, whatever kept him away, he’s not ready to share it. Not yet.

He tilts his head, that dark amusement glinting in his eyes. “You’ve changed, Aria,” he murmurs, a hint of admiration in his voice. “But you’re still the same Little Sinner I remember. Still believing in lost causes.”

“Some things never change,” I say, my voice barely more than a whisper, the words thick with everything I can’t say.

He smiles, a real, genuine smile, dimples deepening as he takes one last look at me, then turns, disappearing into the shadows of my kitchen without another word.

I stand there, frozen, my breath caught in my throat as I watch him disappear. The silence that follows feels heavy, as though the walls themselves are holding their breath, waiting for me to make sense of what just happened.

But all I can do is stand there, caught between the relief of having him back, of knowing he’s alive, and the aching uncertainty of whatever this is. He’s close, but still just out of reach, a shadow on the edges of my life.

And I know, with bone-deep certainty, that he’s here for a reason. That smile, that touch—there’s a plan behind it, something he hasn’t let me see yet.

He’s different—older, harder, carrying something behind those eyes that makes my chest tighten. But he’s still Dominic, still the man who once protected me, who saved me when I thought no one could.

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