Chapter 167: Chapter 167
Music Recommendation: The grudge by Oliver Rodrigo
.......
Dominic’s words hung in the air, thick and unrelenting.
"I don’t want this, Celeste." He breathed out, repeating himself. "I can’t predict your safety, and I hate having issues I can’t predict, or control." He opened up.
The tremor in his voice wasn’t anger. It was desperation. That bone-deep, chest-tightening desperation that made her throat close.
Celeste stared at him. His body was tense but his gaze was unbearably soft on her. With her, he was messy, flawed, and terrified. And yet, his gentleness was always sharp-edged, pressing against her independence like it was paper he kept trying to fold into his palm.
His gentleness wasn’t 100% free. Mist times, he unintentionally oversteps, and it kills her. He should have discussed her work with her before making a decision. He meant well, but it would have been better if he heard her out before making a move.
She swallowed hard, her nails digging into her own palms. "Right now, we’re having a conversation, Dominic. That’s how this works. Next time this comes up, you consult me, amd then, we have a conversation about it. Just as we are right now."
Her chest tightened, a pulse of ache rushing through her. She couldn’t let what she felt for him erase what mattered.
"That’s not partnership, Dominic. That’s you playing savior, and me being the damsel you tie to a chair while you go slay the dragon." She shook her head, her voice steady but her hands trembling at her sides. "I don’t want that. I can’t live like that. If you keep deciding for me, I’ll stop feeling like I have a life at all."
Something flickered across his face. But he didn’t step back. He didn’t release her. Instead, he pushed closer, and held her softly.
"I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. I’m not trying to cage you," he whispered, though his voice shook with the effort. "I’m trying to keep you breathing."
Her chest constricted. She hated the way her heart softened at those words, even as anger bubbled in her stomach. "That’s not your decision to make."
Silence stretched between them. Dominic’s jaw worked, like he was holding back words he didn’t want to speak. But then his eyes dropped, his lashes shadowing the rawness beneath.
When he lifted them again, the look in his gaze gutted her. He looked like he didn’t want to agree, and at the same time, he didn’t want to bite. The look in his eyes told her he’d rather die than ever having to say the words he was about to. However, he has to.
"There’s something I should have told you," he said, his voice hoarse. "Something that still feels like a day dream."
Celeste’s brows drew together. "What do you mean?"
Dominic’s throat bobbed. His chest rose and fell like he’d just finished running. And then, so quietly she almost didn’t hear him, he said, "You were pregnant."
The world stopped. The city outside, the clock ticking faintly on the wall, and the hum of the heater all fell silent under the weight of those words.
Celeste blinked. She blinked once, and again. The words didn’t register. They couldn’t register. They even refused to settle in her head.
"I—what?" she whispered, her voice breaking on the single syllable. She pushed him away absentmindedly, and stood up from the bed.
Dominic stood up with her. She stepped back when he first approached her but then, he stepped forward again, before she could retreat, his hands lifting slowly, and carefully, like he was approaching something fragile.
His palms settled gently on her arms, warm and grounding, though she couldn’t feel anything through the sudden numbness spreading through her body.
"You didn’t know," he said, his voice breaking. "The doctors... they told me while you were still in coma. You were two weeks along. And then... after the accident, after the coma... you lost it."
Celeste’s stomach rolled over, like someone had punched through her. Her lungs refused to expand.
A baby.
Her baby.
Gone.
Wait, hold on!
How on earth did she have no idea about a baby? Two weeks wasn’t a long time, but still. That was... that was her baby.
Her knees wavered, and Dominic caught her before she hit the floor, wrapping her tight against his chest. His arms wrapped around her like iron, his lips pressing into her hairline.
"I didn’t want to tell you like this," he whispered desperately against her head. "I didn’t want you to wake up and drown in grief when you could barely stand. I thought... God, I thought I could protect you from this. I thought I could hold it long enough until you were stronger."
However, Celeste couldn’t hear him. His words were blurred, muffled by the roaring in her ears. She couldn’t even cry. She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t f*cking do anything.
Everything came over her like it was all a big mistake. She thought she had everything figured out, but Dominic’s world doesn’t seem to.... his world....
She was empty.
Completely, and utterly empty.
Her arms hung useless at her sides as Dominic clutched her tighter, rocking her gently like he could sway her grief away. He kissed her temple, her forehead, her hair, each press of his lips a plea. "I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you sooner. I should’ve..." His voice broke, and she felt his shoulders tremble.
Still, she stayed frozen.
Minutes passed, or maybe it was hours. She couldn’t tell. Time had fractured, splitting along the axis of his words.
Finally, her body gave way. The numbness cracked. And when it did, it cracked wide open.
Her arms lifted, weak but desperate, and she clung to him. Her fingers twisted into his shirt, clutching like she might fall through the floor if she let go. A broken sound tore from her throat. It was a half sob, and a half gasp, and then she buried her face into his chest and wept.
The sound of it ripped through the room.
Dominic held her tighter, his lips moving endlessly against her hair. "I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Let it out, baby. Please. Let it out. I’m right here, and I’m not letting you go."
Her tears soaked his skin, her chest heaving with the weight of it all. The more she cried, the more her body jerked and trembled.
She cried for what she lost, and for what she never even got to know she had. And for a minute, she wondered if Dominic was worth this.