Page 78 of Best In Class
“Why?” I ask, more confused than anything. “We…never worked together.”
We never studied together. Never collaborated on a project. Just walked through old Savannah neighborhoods side by side, talking about buildings, materials, and dreams neither of us had figured out how to chase yet.
“I know,” he says. “And it always felt like a huge loss to not be able to do it. Like I missed out on something I didn’t even know I was allowed to want. When I was designing that hotel, I kept wondering what you’d say about whether the corridor widths were too narrow, if the window placement caught enough light. If I was picking pretty finishes that weren’t of much use.”
I smile, startled by his words, comforted by the warmth that swells in my chest. “I’m not much for pretty finishes.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I know. Working with you now is like….” He trails off, searching.
“Like what?” I probe softly.
“Like I found the part of the equation that was always missing. Like I was writing in a language without half the alphabet, and didn’t realize it until you started speaking.”
I stare at him, speechless.
“Right after I won the Pritzker I knew I had to come home.”
My breath hitches. That was two years ago.
“I had to come back toyou.”
My heart is rejoicing while my brain is clamoring for clarity.
“It took a year to close down projects and…the firm.”
I lick my lips. “Why did you close it?”
“Because I wanted to come home to you.”
It’s not just what he’s saying that provokes my response—it’s how he’s saying it. Like every word is being pulled from a place he’s kept locked for years, and now, he’s letting me see just how much it cost him to keep it shut.
“Then…why have you been dating half the world?” I demand.
“Haven’t been with anyone since I decided to come back, Moonbeam. I told you that.”
I soften, despite myself.
Dom is not a liar.
“Why didn’t you call?” I ask, and it’s not accusing. Just…honest.
He begins to row. “In the beginning, it was pride. You told me I wasn’t a peer, an equal. I wanted to show you that I was.”
I close my eyes, remembering my harsh words.
“I’m sorry, Dom. I…didn’t mean it. I was just?—”
“Hurt and angry,” he finishes for me. He looks at me warmly, a smile spreading on his lips. “Took me a while to wrap my head around that. By then…I started the firm, and life just gotbusy.”
I pick at the fabric of my dress. “When I invested in Savannah Lace…I….” I pause to find the courage to show him my heart as he’s shown me his. “I wished it were you and me…that the company wasours.”
The corners of his mouth go up, almost imperceptibly. “I knowthatfeeling.”
I swallow.
“And when I came back, you wouldn’t give me the time of day.”
I roll my eyes. “What did you expect?”
