Chapter 60: Chapter 60
Celeste didn’t mean to stay up that late.
She sat on her bed, one leg tucked beneath her, staring at the same blurry image for what felt like the tenth time.
The screen glowed against her face. Dominic, younger, standing beside a woman with hair like burnt copper and eyes too bright to forget. The headline was from a blog post seven years ago, buried beneath layers of internet dust.
Engaged.
He had been engaged.
Her stomach twisted. The twist in her stomach was not because he owed her any explanations. They barely knew what they were. But because he’d been so... quiet. So composed.
She had knocked down walls to see who he was. But tonight, she realized Dominic still had doors locked shut, and that Theresa was one of them. She realized she hadn’t even seen a percent of the real him.
Picking up her phone, she saw a text from Dominic: "Where are you? It’s late, are you alright?"
She saw another that read: "I’m just worried. Text me if you’re alright,"
She rubbed her throbbing head, and thought of what to type. Even if his men followed her around, they never reported her whereabouts to him. He checks in directly from her.
They’re only there for the sake of emergencies.
She thought about telling him where she was at, or lying to him. Lying won’t be a good start off point.
With a soft sigh, she told him she was fine, wished him good night and switched off her phone.
---
When she showed up the next morning, she didn’t announce herself.
The private elevator ride up to his room was too quiet. She kept the newspaper printouts in her bag, even though she wasn’t sure if she’d use them. Part of her wanted to see if he’d lie. The other part hoped he wouldn’t.
Dominic opened the door himself.
He wore no suit, just black slacks and a dark sweater that looked too soft on him. She didn’t say anything as he stepped aside to let her in.
He had a protein shake in one hand, and a white towel around his neck. She could tell he just finished working out in his private gym.
Everything in her screamed at her to hug and kiss him but a few invisible walls stopped her. Dominic took a step forwards to pull her to himself.
He stopped when he saw the look in her eyes. He dropped the protein shake on a close by table, and took off the neck towel.
"I found something," she said, before he could offer his tension-breaking charm.
His jaw tightened, but only slightly.
He nodded. "Then ask."
That was Dominic. No flinch. No denial. Just the invitation to unravel him.
Celeste crossed the room and set her phone on the table. She opened the image. The same one she stared at all night. "Who is she?"
He looked at it. No hesitation. "Theresa De Luca." He wanted to hold her, but had to push his feelings to the side, and understand why she’s this pissed.
"You were engaged."
A beat passed. "Yes."
Her throat went dry. She didn’t even know what she expected—denial, maybe. A sigh. But he wasn’t shaken. He answered as though the subject had been shelved years ago and he’d never reopened it since.
"What happened to her?"
Dominic moved past her, pouring himself a glass of water he didn’t drink. Even with his back to her, his voice was even. "She left."
"Why?"
He then turned to her, "She left because she couldn’t live with what her family did."
Celeste blinked. "What does that mean?"
Dominic walked to his floor to ceiling glass wall, and leaned in it. There was no smugness in his expression at the moment, or a cold smirk.
"She was the daughter of Carlo De Luca. A man who publicly stood with the Hartwells. Privately, he was among the ones who brokered the deal that destroyed my father."
Celeste said nothing. The room stretched thinner.
"She didn’t know at first," Dominic continued. "But when she found out — when she found out that her father was among the people who added fuel to my father’s death, and just stood by to watch, she came to me in tears."
"And you still wanted to marry her?" Celeste asked before she could stop herself.
Dominic’s smile was bitter. "I did. I loved her." He met Celeste’s eyes unapologetically. "If she had never left, I would have pushed her father’s sin behind me, and been with her."
The words cut deeper than Celeste thought they would. She clenched her fists in her coat pockets.
"And yet she left."
"Yes," he said. "Because she couldn’t face me after what her father did. She said she needed to disappear. That she’d only make things worse if she stayed."
Celeste swallowed. "So, she just ran."
"She vanished," Dominic corrected. "No letters. No closure nor trace. I haven’t seen her since."
She didn’t know what to say.
There was no lie in his tone. But there was something darker. It was like an old hurt that didn’t beg for sympathy. It simply lived inside him like a closed wound.
"How long were you together?" she asked, gently.
"Three years," he replied. "Engaged for one."
"Do you still think about her?"
Dominic didn’t answer right away. He repeated the question to himself mentally. He had always been a deep lover but never the type to hold on to a one sided depth of feelings.
Then, softly, he clarified, "Not in the way you think."
Celeste tilted her head. "What way is that?"
"I don’t miss her. I don’t ache for her. But I think about the silence she left behind." He set the glass down. "And what it taught me."
Celeste nodded slowly, her voice quieter now. "Which is?"
He stretched his long arms, flexing his muscles. "That loyalty isn’t always mutual. And love doesn’t guarantee someone will stay."
Silence stretched again. He said that so casually that Celeste’s heart bled for him. She was used to people hiding deep hurt behind humor.
She walked over to his bed, and sat on it, unsure of whether she felt closer to him or further. There was an ache in her chest.
"She’s the reason you never talk about your past, isn’t she?" she whispered.
Dominic met her gaze. "She’s part of it."
Celeste studied him.
He looked tired now. Not physically. But emotionally. He looked like someone who’d spent too long holding his breath in life and finally exhaled.
"She wasn’t the only person who betrayed my family," he said, almost as an afterthought. "But she was the only one who could have stayed."
Another silence.
Dominic’s voice broke the silence after what seemed like an eternity. "You’re not her."
Celeste’s head turned. "What?" Of course, she wasn’t her. Theresa was a gorgeous lady with class.
She was also gorgeous but Theresa was on another level of it.
"You don’t have to prove that," he added. "But if you ever plan to leave, just tell me. Don’t disappear."
Her throat burned, surprised that was what he was talking about. Just how much hurt did he have to carry after she left?
"I’m not her," she whispered.
"I know."