Page 41 of Exile
“I’m so sorry, baby. I was an ass. Can you forgive me?” I feel something wet and warm against my skin, and I realize it is his tears. The last of my resistance melts, washed away by the remorseful tears he spills as he begs for my forgiveness. “You’re the best thing in my life, and I got scared when I thought Kai was going to try to take you from me. I promise I won’t ever do anything like that again. It was completely out of character for me. I just had too much to drink last night and lost control of myself. You know who I am. You know I love you.” Dom leans back so he can look me in the eye as he cups my face. “Can you forgive me, Kitten? Please?” It’s the please that does it. The please and the tear slowly trailing down his cheek until it meets the corner of his mouth, stopping there, glimmering in the morning light streaming in from the windows.
I nod, my cheeks damp from my own tears. “I forgive you, Pumpkin.”
The relief that floods out of Dominick’s body is palpable as he tugs me back into his embrace, peppering my forehead and hair with kisses.
“Hey, I hope you don’t mind, but I called the coffee shop and said you wouldn’t be at work today. I took the day off too. I thought we could spend the day together.”
“Dom, you shouldn’t do that. I don’t want to leave Marie to work alone when she’s so far along…” I try to push out of his hold, but Dom holds me close, rubbing soothing circles on my back.
“It’s okay. She said some dude named André was working today. Don’t worry; just let me make up for being an asshole, please.”
“Okay, you win.” I lean back so I can look up at him and give him a small smile. Dom’s face lights up like the sun before he leans in and kisses me so deeply it makes me breathless. This is the man I fell in love with. The man I trust with my heart. The man who makes me feel cherished.
The rest of the day passes in a blur of romantic gestures and sweet moments. After we make up, Dom tucks me into bed so I can nap while he makes us breakfast. Then we spend the day wrapped up in each other in bed, watching movies, eating junk food, and cuddling. Dom doesn’t try to push for more than the occasional kiss, content to hold me like I’m his most precious treasure. For dinner he runs out to pick up food from my favorite Thai restaurant, and he even makes a detour to return with the most decadent-looking cheesecake I’ve ever seen.
By the time we fall asleep, me tucked into Dom’s body as the little spoon, surrounded by his spicy masculine scent, the events of the previous night feel like nothing more than a bad dream.
By the time the weekend rolls around, my fight with Dom is a distant memory. There are no more appearances by the possessive controlling side of him, and my realtor let me know someone made an offer on our house that was unbelievably generous. When I walk up to Mom’s apartment door at Whispering Grove, it’s with a lightness to my step I haven’t felt in weeks.
“Hey, Sweet Pea! I’m so glad you’re here; come in!”
When Mom opens the door, I’m taken aback by how happy she looks. There is an excited light shining in her eyes that I haven’t seen since the accident.
“Hey, Mom…” I trail off as she pulls me into her apartment, like a kid eager to show a new friend their bedroom. There is greenery everywhere. Potted plants sit on every flat surface. Small succulents crowd her dining table, while leafy ferns hang from the ceiling. A large monstera sits by the sliding glass door leading out to the balcony.
“I’m so glad you came by. Come, come, tell me how it’s been living with Dom.”
I follow Mom to the kitchenette and sit at the island while she sets to work making us some tea.
“Um, it’s good. I’m mostly unpacked. When did you become a plant lady?” I inspect a plant with little pearl-like buds dripping over the edge like a necklace.
“Oh, it’s one of my assignments from Dr. Chapman. I’m supposed to build a daily routine with activities that have a lot of repetition to them. It’s supposed to help improve my memory. I decided to take up plant care. It’s repetitive, soothing, and each one has their own different needs, so I get to work on remembering the details of caring for the different plants. I’ve also taken up knitting. By the time you and Dom have a baby, I’ll already be a proper Grandma!”
I wince at her mention of having a baby, but she misses it while she pours the hot water into mugs. I won’t burst her bubble by mentioning I have zero desire to get pregnant any time soon.
“So…I take it you like it here?” There is uncertainty and hope in my question. I want her to be happy, I do, but a small part of me is hurt by the thought that she may be happier now than before, when it was just the two of us.
Mom turns around to look at me when she answers, a knowing look in her eyes. She takes my hands in hers before responding. “I do like it here, Serena. My therapy sessions have been helping, and I’m making some new friends already. I’m building a life that feels like my own again. A life that doesn’t make me feel like a burden.” Guilt stabs in my chest at her words.
“Mom, you were never a burden. If I ever made you feel that way?—”
She cuts me off by putting a finger to my lips. “No, baby, you never did. I did. I made myself feel like a burden. Daughters shouldn’t have to take care of their mothers. Not at this age. I shouldn’t have let you work yourself into the ground like that when you still have so much life to experience. This place is good for me. It’s giving me the chance to find out who I am now, after the accident. Let it be good for you too. It’s time for you to find out who you are, now that you can focus on yourself.”
The relief I feel at her words causes an uncomfortable feeling to swirl in my gut, so I decide to make a joke in hopes she won’t pick up on my conflicted emotions. “Well, it’s a good thing you like it here, because we accepted an offer on the house. You’re stuck here now.” It works and Mom laughs at my joke. Once we have our tea, Mom gives me a tour, introducing me to all of her plant babies.
“This is Monty. He’s a monstera and loves living indoors. Supposedly he’s a hardy plant and isn’t too delicate, so they thought he would be a good one for me to start with.”
“Hold up. You named your plants?” I try my best to hold back my laughter, but Mom doesn’t miss a beat.
“Yes, and I talk to them too. I recount my day to them, tell them stories about your dad, do some of my memory exercises with them. The doctor says saying things out loud is just as important as writing down things in my journal.”
“Alright, so you’re now a crazy plant lady who talks to herself…coolcoolcool…you sure you’re doing okay here?” This time the laugh I was trying to contain escapes when Mom smacks me on the arm.
“Hush, you brat. You’ll be singing a different tune when I start remembering things again and can move out on my own.” I can’t help it when her words cause a small seed of hope to sprout in my chest. All I’ve ever wanted was our lives to go back to how they were before the accident, and if selling the house so Mom can get the professional help she needs here is the price I have to pay, I will gladly do it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
SERENA