Page 15 of Always You
“Oh, shit, I double-booked two for three o’clock,” Sophie voices with a hiss.
“I’m sure if I call the school, they can wait for me fifteen minutes more. I can stay. I’ll call the school,” I tell her.
“Are you sure?” She frowns. “Yes, should be quick. Engagement photos don’t take long.”
The door chimes as it opens, and my head jerks up to greet our clients. I’m greeted by a tall, devilishly handsome man, wearing black slacks, and a white button shirt that hugs his muscular biceps.
What the fuck!Dominic and his fiancé—with all the luck, why me? Why here? She’s dressed in high-end clothing, a maroon off-the-shoulder dress, high heels that presumably cost more than my rent, and her Gucci bag. Her nose is stuck up in the air. A snob indeed. Overly dressed as if she was posing for a runway. Her curves, breasts, and long eyelashes flutter. They scream fake. I’m sure if a gust of wind breezed through, they would fly right off. She’s definitely not someone I pictured Dominic dating. She looks complicated and seems uptight, while he’s simple.
He stares at me with a cold, calculating gaze as we connect stares. Part of me feels it’s an illusion after all these years, a dream I’m not in with him. My heart gallops like a stampede of buffaloes. Sweat trickles down the back of my neck. He harbors the same expression, shocked to see me again.
“The feeling is mutual,” I mutter silently. I raise my chin and straighten my shoulders. The last thing I want is for him to see how much he affects me and how heartbroken I am—peeling my eyes from his cold stare. I muster a bright smile, rendering unaffected.
The woman struts to the counter, her polished nails tapping at the counter.
“We are here for our engagement photo shoot. We just got engaged a couple of weeks ago, right, babe?” Her voice comes out pushed and high-pitched. A wide smile spreads on her face. She leans in and kisses his cheek.
I side-eye him. Dominic nods in agreement, his lips pressed together tightly. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, his demeanor seemingly uncomfortable and tense. No greeting, just straight to the point, rubbing their engagement right in my face. Pain funnels through my pierced, bruised heart. What a snobby-ass bitch. I wonder if she knows about us. No, of course not. He doesn’t give a shit about me. Why would he mention me? A forced smile paints my unblinkingly pale face.
“Congratulations,” I say grinding my teeth. The pit of my stomach twitches in knots, and the sourness erupts causing indigestion and acid reflux. Twisting my way around them, not acknowledging Dominic’s presence, I point to tell them where to stand. I exhale softly as I enter my office with trembling hands. I grab my camera, while I blink away unshed tears. I won't give him the pleasure of seeing me cry.
Thank the heavens Sophie emerges from the back room. Her eyes stretch wide as saucers when she spots the couple.
“I got this,” she whispers in my ear. Then grabs the camera from my hand.
I nod thanking her. Dominic’s presence intoxicates me, the feel of his eyes burning a hole right through me. I turn to gaze into his eyes. His are burning directly into mine. The Dominic that appears in front of me is not my Dominic. He shifts from hot and cold. I won’t let him belittle me. He’s the one who hurt and betrayed me. I feel my eyes throwing daggers in his direction. His gaze is cold.
I build a wall protecting me from the pain I’ve been through. He disposed of me like a piece of trash, never giving me the chance to tell him I was pregnant.
Sophie has them posing. They pick the poses from our sample book. Dominic wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his lips together. Sophie snaps a couple of different photos. Sophie mutters words to them I can’t quite hear by her facial expression she’s annoyed. I notice Dominic glaring at her, then me if I’m not mistaken. My best friend is giving him a cold, hard stare.
“So, how did you two meet?” Sophie asks, making conversation. I’m sure she’s asking because one: She’s a straight forwards person and two: she wants to see Dominic’s expressions. Samantha beams.
“Dominic’s mom works for my dad, and she introduced us about a year ago, and now we’re engaged.”
I roll my eyes, of course, that wicked lady fixed her son up with an uppity, snobby bitch. Apparently, I wasn’t good enough for him. I’m sure that was part of the reason he dropped me like a hot cake. Her manicured fingers trace the lines of his muscular chest. My heart races. I want to tear her hands off of him. Jealousy rips through me, a burning sensation deep in my stomach. I rustle around the front counter, texting clients, their photos are ready for pickup. Muttering unkind things under my breath.
“We are so in love, right, honey? He proposed in such a romantic way.” She looks at him sweetly, batting her eyelashes. He returns the smile; his eyes meet mine, smirking his lips twist as his husky voice bellows the room.
“Yes, baby, you’re the love of my life, the only one I’ve ever been in love with. Can’t wait to make you, my wife.”
She gasps in shock, throws her hands over his neck, and kisses him passionately. Sophie clears her throat. He steps away smirking.
What an asshole.
My chest burns as if acid has been poured all over my chest, eating me up. The treachery stings. The smirk on his face proves he deliberately hurt me. He fell out of love with me. Who am I kidding? He just said she’s the only one he has ever loved. The betoken of his cruelty is infuriating. He’s treating me as if I did something wrong. He’s so confusing, one minute he’s being all possessive at the restaurant pinning me to a bathroom wall. Next, he’s giving me a death stare.
He’s getting married, he loves her. I have to remind myself I’m just a part of his past. My temper is rising wanting to shout at him and ask what the fuck his problem is, does he not remember what we went through?
“We are all done. We will contact you when your photos are ready,” Sophie mutters as she walks them to the front desk counter.
“Great, thank you.”
I turn to walk into my office, not sparing them another glance, shutting the door behind me. The dejected feeling of a broken heart is watching the man you love walk out with another woman hand in hand. He was never mine. He found what he didn’t have with me. Someone with a family, I assume. Not an orphan. Someone capable to give him more than what I have.
* * *
“Mommy, let’s play hide and go seek,” Dante shouts, jumping up and down.
