Page 191 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 5-8

He’d never felt good about the way they’d parted, even though there’d been no choice about any of it. He’d still felt rotten about it. Part of him had still felt as if he’d lost a limb.

So he’d tried calling, but the phone rang out. Her absence had played on his mind. Sure, he’d told her to get on with her life. But where was she, if she wasn’t at her uni digs?

A gap in his timetable had given him the window of opportunity he needed. He’d turned up at her old university accommodation and knocked on the door. A singlet-topped student had opened the door. ‘Yeah?’

‘I’m looking for Marianne Wheeler. She used to live here. Do you know where I might find her?’

He’d looked his caller up and down before he pulled a face. ‘Never heard of her, mate. Sorry.’ And slammed the door.

Dom had stood there a moment. How was he going to find her now? This was the only address he had. He put his hand against the wall and breathed deeply, thinking he’d made a terrible mistake. He’d told her to move on with her life, when what he’d really been hoping for was that she would be here, waiting for him. It would have been unfair for him to expect that of her, but it was what he’d wanted more than anything.

God, what a mess.

The screen door of the next door flat had swung open, a pram with a crying baby emerging, followed by a man Dom recognised. He’d been part of the crowd of student friends that Marianne mixed with.

‘Hey,’ he said. ‘I’m looking for Marianne. Do you know where I might find her?’

The man didn’t look up. He was too busy paying attention to the fussing baby. ‘Shh…shh,’ he said, trying to wrangle a dummy back between the child’s lips. ‘Let’s give your mummy a break.’

‘Marianne—she used to live here. Do you know where I might find her?’

‘Not sure where she is now,’ the man said, giving up on the dummy and rocking the pram by the handle instead. ‘But I know where she was last weekend.’

‘Where?’

‘At her wedding, out of Kempsey. It was a really good bash.’ The guy looked up and recognition popped in his eyes. Recognition along with a frown and a measure of hesitation. ‘Hey, weren’t you and Marianne a thing back then? That is you, isn’t it? Everyone thought you’d be the first of us lot to get hitched. What happened?’

‘Life happened,’ Dom had said before turning away. Marianne hadn’t taken any time to replace him. There was no point him hanging around any longer.

Because life happened, and sometimes life sucked. He remembered how he’d felt then as if it was yesterday. As if he’d lost a part of himself, a part he was hoping he’d only just put in abeyance until he was ready to come back.

Sure, he’d offered Marianne her freedom.

But he hadn’t expected her to take it.

He hadn’t expected to lose her in the process.

Especially not so quickly.

Dom’s phone buzzed again, jolting him out of his thoughts.

There was a problem, his Brazilian project manager messaged, could Dominico, with his experience, offer any insights?

Hell, yes, Dom thought. Because it was so much easier to untangle business problems than it was to unsnarl the tangles that were Marianne.

* * *

Mari managed just a fraction of her lobster medallions and Wagyu beef before giving up on the idea of dinner. She declined the butler’s offer of dessert and decided to take coffee in her room.

Her room.

That was a laugh. A room in the Presidential Suite in Melbourne’s prestigious Langham Hotel overlooking the Yarra River and the lit-up buildings of the city of Melbourne, and she was referring to it as her room.

She was becoming quite the diva.

She found a message from Suzanne as she was turning in and so she called her.

‘I saw an article online about Cooper Industries being sold to a Spanish businessman.’

---