Page 205 of By A Thread
“You took them. You don’t even put up a fight over staying here anymore. You’ve stayed here every night for weeks.”
“Because you asked me to!”
“Or is it because it works better for you? You get a nice warm place to stay that doesn’t require you to get up at the ass-crack of dawn for a commute. Is that why you were finally willing to introduce me to your father? Were you hoping I’d walk in there and magnanimously decide to pay off his debt?” The words were spilling from my mouth like I had no fucking control. I used to have control. Before her.
She sank back as if I’d actually struck her.
“I’m such a fucking idiot,” I murmured to myself.
“Yeah. No argument there,” Ally said. Her teeth were chattering, and she was hugging herself. “You can’t take these things back, you know.”
“The gifts are yours to keep.”
“No, you ass. What you’re saying. You can’t take any of this back. You can’t erase any of this. You’re accusing me of using you. You don’t get to have a bad day and try to hurt me because of it. That’s not what a relationship is. I don’t deserve this.”
I was starting to waver. Starting to doubt my righteous anger. That only made me recommit myself to it. I’d been blinded by sex. It was just sex. Maybe we’d been using each other. Me for her body and her for everything else I could offer her.
What kind of a fucked-up foundation was that?
We were doomed from the beginning.
“You should go,” I told her. “You can get your things tomorrow after I leave for work.”
67
Dominic
It was not a good day. I spent the entire night haunted by Ally’s tearstained face, the hurt in those soft brown eyes, the shake in her hands.
“I don’t know if I can forgive you for this.”
In the light of ugly gray morning, I wasn’t feeling as self-righteous or confident in my decision to protect myself.
My desk phone rang.
“What?”
“What did you do to Ally?” my mother demanded in my ear.
I’d arrived at work only to find my assistant had called in sick and someone had waved a magic wand taking me from Dominic back to Mr. Russo.
“Good morning, Mother. I’m fine. How are you?”
“I’m not happy.”
“Everything is fine. Consider it business as usual.”
“Ally sent me her resignation this morning, effective immediately.”
“Maybe she was just tired of working here,” I said wearily. She didn’t really need this job anymore. Not with the house ready to be put on the market.
“What did you do, Dominic Michael?”
“What makes you think it was me?”
“Because I know you. I know your baggage.”
“Where do you think that baggage came from?” I asked uncharitably.
