Page 26 of Loss and Damages
“Did he kiss you? Did you ever make love?” I hate asking. I don’t want to know the answers.
She opens her mouth then closes it again, thinking through what she wants to say. “I told you the first time you stopped by, and maybe the second time, too, that we never had sex. I’m not pregnant in case you feel the need to ask me that again. He wouldn’t kiss me, he would...nuzzle my cheek with his lips. That would be the best way I can describe it. If he needed sex, and I say if because I have no idea if that was something hedidneed, he found it elsewhere. Leo was lonely. We were very good friends. Best friends. I shouldn’t even tell you this, but...”
“But what? I think I have the right to know.”
“He was looking for something your family wasn’t giving him. I don’t need to be a therapist to understand that.”
“He was on good terms with our mother and extended family.” I’m not going to take the blame for anything.
She scoops up a bite of potato. Our dinner is getting cold. “If that helps you sleep at night, then who am I to say anything? He needed you. He needed his father, but— Forget it. Leo’s deadand everyone is going to have to live with the regret that we could have been more and we weren’t.”
I scoff. “It sounds like you’re the only one who doesn’t have regret when it concerns my brother.”
“I have regret. I don’t think Leo was going to ask me to marry him, but I couldn’t read his mind. If he truly was going to propose at the fundraiser, I would have said no.” She lifts her gaze from the bite of potato she has yet to put in her mouth. “I don’t want to marry for affection or common interests. I want to marry because I’m desperately in love and he loves me, just as passionately. Leo and I didn’t have that. Not even close, and we never would have.”
Chapter Ten
Jemma
It hurts to say the words, hot betrayal spewing out of my mouth. I gulp the wine to wash down the hurt I can see plain as day on Leo’s face if he were alive and could listen to our conversation.
Dominic radiates tension, and it’s exhausting. I wish he would leave so I can dump our dishes in the sink and crawl into bed. I miss Leo and his snuggles. I miss talking all night despite having to get up early the next morning and open the gallery. He’s been gone not even a week, and his presence lingers in my cottage, in the gallery, in my bed. His body weighing the mattress down.
“I won’t insult you and ask if you’d marry him for his money.” Dominic carefully cuts a piece of steak and spears it with his fork, but he doesn’t lift it to his mouth.
“Leo didn’t give a shit about money, and he was so disappointed you did.” I drain my glass and push my plate away. I can’t eat now. “I think you should go. We don’t have anything more to say to each other.”
He sighs and pours more wine into my glass. “Actually, I have a favor to ask.”
“I don’t owe you anything.” I’m bitter he made me confront feelings I was hiding from. I didn’t want Gloria to be right. I didn’t want to be in a position to have to turn Leo down if he asked. Now he’s dead and it doesn’t matter and that’s worse.
“That’s why it’s a favor. You have every right to say no.”
“No.”
“You don’t know what it is.”
“I don’t care.”
I really don’t. What Dominic Milano needs is none of my business. Let him find it somewhere else.
“It has to do with our mother. I told her—”
“You shouldn’t have told her anything! Leo didn’t tell you about me because he didn’t want you to know. He didn’t want what we had tainted by his real life. He hid when he came out here, he lived a life he wasn’t allowed to in the city. Why can’t you understand that?” My voice turns into a shriek. “Why can’t you get it through your head he wasn’t like you?” I slide off my barstool and run through the mudroom.
“Fuck,” Dominic mutters behind me and I can feel him follow me outside into the wildflower field Leo painted.
I run through the lush grass trying not to trample the flowers in my grief. I sink beside a poplar tree and rest my head against the trunk.
Hot tears run down my face, but I don’t stop them. I need to let myself cry or I’ll never start healing.
Dominic sits on the ground next to me and tentatively lifts me into his lap. His gentle touch snaps what little control I have left, and I press my face into his dress shirt and sob against his chest, his arms tight around me.
I don’t know how much time has gone by before I notice he’s crying too, his shoulders shaking, his lips resting against the top of my head.
When I can’t cry another tear, I lean away. I don’t want to feel comfortable in his arms, don’t want his scent to fool me into a sense of safety. I know the kind of man Dominic is, and if I hadn’t known listening to Leo talk about him, all I have to do is turn on the news at any given moment. Dominic doesn’t care about anyone or anything except lining his already bulging pocketbook.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been keeping it in and I couldn’t anymore. I’ll walk you to your car.”
