Chapter 68: Chapter 68
Celeste watched him, and she noticed it.
His grip on his fork loosened immediately, like he was slapped by a random past memory. The slow, careful way he dropped his cutlery onto the plate made her swallow.
She watched him take in a quiet inhale. It was long and slow. And it was the first time she saw him take one this human and tired.
His expression dropped to that of someone who was reaching back into a memory they’d buried too deep to handle casually.
Celeste blinked. "Do you... do you know her?"
Dominic didn’t answer right away.
His eyes remained fixed on the woman by the elevator, who was now stepping forward, her heels making muted contact with the rooftop floor.
She wasn’t overdressed.
She didn’t wear gown or glamor, like she normally did. She just wore a black sheath dress, long sleeves, clinging to her body.
A coat rested over one shoulder, and her hair — deep red, vibrant even in the dim light — was pulled into a loose twist that looked unintentional, but wasn’t.
Her face was sharp, and beautiful, but not softly. Her beauty was more like a striking knife. Her mouth was curved — not in a smile, but something that might have been one once. Her eyes, beneath her perfectly dark lashes, flicked to Celeste.
Then Dominic.
Then back again.
"Theresa," Dominic finally said, his tone a quiet blend of surprise and restraint.
Celeste’s brows pulled slightly together. That name... wait, she stared at Celeste, and swallowed in recognition. It was the same woman she saw in pictures with Dominic.
She was different now, but not too different. Or maybe, this had always been the air around her.
This was awkward. She looked at Dominic. Why was his ex here? What’s going on?
Theresa didn’t slow as she reached them.
She stopped just a few feet away from the table, uninvited and unapologetic. Her hands slipped into the pockets of her coat like she didn’t want to wrinkle her posture with tension.
The tension was so much that it made the air feel electric.
Celeste straightened in her seat, suddenly aware of the way her dress hugged her thighs. She tugged it down, more out of instinct than modesty.
Theresa’s eyes scanned her slowly, and carefully. It was the the kind of inspection you don’t get unless someone’s either extremely interested or deeply offended.
"Younger?" Theresa said finally, her voice like velvet pulled through. She didn’t even say an ’Hello’.
Then, she turned to Dominic, and there was something about the way she tilted her head that made Celeste feel like she was sitting in someone else’s story.
"Why?" Theresa asked him, her voice still calm. "Because girls your age know better?"
The words weren’t loud, but they sliced right into Celeste’s chest, where insecurity liked to linger.
Dominic’s face hardened subtly. A flicker went across his expression. Yet, he didn’t say anything.
Celeste’s lips parted slightly, more from disbelief than hurt. She didn’t know what she’d expected this woman to say. She just hadn’t expected... that. To be called younger like it was an insult.
It was like being slapped with silk. Polished, well-aimed, yet humiliating silk.
Theresa didn’t wait for a reply. She just stood there, staring straight into Dominic’s eyes, while he stared back.
Celeste straightened, her fingers curling lightly on her lap, nails pressing into her palm.
Dominic finally moved. Slowly, he rose to his feet, and pushed his seat away. Afterwards, he moved over to Celeste, and knelt before her.
He placed his hand on her thigh, and met her eyes. "Let’s go home. We’ll talk, and I’ll explain everything,"
Celeste swallowed. She nodded with an unsteady heart. "Nice meeting you," she said to Theresa, and stood up to leave with Dominic.
Celeste didn’t look back as Dominic’s hand found hers.
He led her through the people around like nothing had happened. He acted like his past hadn’t just walked in wearing heels and a sharpened gaze. The moment they stepped into the elevator, his grip loosened, and for the second time that night, she felt it.
That quiet inhale.
That quiet inhale was like he was trying to gather every piece of himself before speaking.
The elevator doors closed, surrounding them in silence. Celeste stood beside him, her hand still in his. Her mind was rushing, but her lips remained still.
It wasn’t the awkward silence that annoyed her. It was the meaning inside it. The weight of a name she didn’t know enough about but already hated.
Theresa.
Even the syllables sat wrong in her mouth.
Dominic didn’t speak until they were outside, where the cool air kissed her exposed shoulders and teased at her hem. He opened the passenger door for her, waited until she slid in, and then circled to the driver’s side.
The car quietly came to life.
Still no words.
Celeste turned slightly toward him, her voice low and calm. "Do you want to talk now?"
Dominic didn’t answer immediately. His fingers tightened slightly on the wheel before relaxing again.
"I didn’t know she was in the city," he said finally.
"That wasn’t what I asked."
His jaw flexed. "She... I never imagined this was how we’d meet again, years later." He paused. "She left... brutally,"
She nodded once, slowly. "And you didn’t see her again until tonight?"
"Not since the breakup. Which... wasn’t civil."
Celeste let out a breath. "She seemed angry."
Dominic gave a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "She always knew how to act angry. She was always angry,"
Celeste looked out the window.
The lights of the city blurred past. But she wasn’t seeing them. She was seeing the woman in the black sheath dress. The way she looked at Dominic. The way she looked at her was filled with memories.
"You didn’t answer her," Celeste said.
Dominic looked at her.
"When she asked you why you were with someone younger," she clarified, in case he was wondered what question she refers to.
Silence again.
"I didn’t think she deserved an answer," he said, his tone a little harder now. "And you didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that."
Celeste studied him. "But that wasn’t the reason you didn’t answer. Was it?"
He didn’t respond, but his eyes flicked to her, briefly, before returning to the road. Like he knew she was right. Like something unspoken still lingered between them, tense and waiting.