“Enjoy the vodka as soon as the doc clears you for it. I left a bottle with your man, too,” Uncle Salazar says.
The police interview me, and I give them every bit of information I can. Tolyan and Antoine fill me in as they learn more, and I piece things together.
Andy ran Lyosha over earlier on the day of the attack to lure Tolyan away. He found out about Lyosha after watching Tolyan for a while. He then waited until Tolyan left and hacked into Kristen’s Skype account. (Her password is ilovefashion. She needs a better one.)
All he had to do afterward was fool me, waving a movie prop finger and a silver ring that looked similar to the one he saw her wearing a few times before. I didn’t think to look at the detail with care because I was so freaked out, which was exactly what he wanted. The girl in the live feed was an actress he hired. He apparently lied to her, saying that he was filming some kind of educational film about terrorism and sexual violence. She had no idea he was going to use her t
o commit a crime.
Tolyan and Antoine both reassure me Dominic is recovering, and I’ll be able to see him soon. I close my eyes.
Andy is finally dead. The nightmare is over. And I just have to wait until Dominic’s well enough to keep the promise he made.
Except…things don’t turn out that way at all.
Chapter Forty-Three
Elizabeth
–two months later
Something’s definitely wrong. Despite the fact that Dominic and I have both recovered, he hasn’t done a thing to keep the promise he made—that he’d marry me.
If it was just that, maybe I wouldn’t have been biting my nails since we were discharged from the hospital. But he hasn’t touched me, either. Well, he touches me when he brushes by, or when he kisses me goodnight…on my forehead. But he doesn’t touch me sexually, with heat and need and want like he used to. It isn’t like we don’t have privacy…we have plenty. Antoine’s back in his place, Kristen got herself an apartment closer to work, and Tolyan’s away, too.
To fix the problem, I put on some hot new lacy underwear a week ago. Dominic took one look, pinched the bridge of his nose, kissed me goodnight—on the forehead—turned out the light and went to sleep!
I stay up some nights to see if he’s masturbating in the shower again. Nope. He’s staying away from sex—any sex.
I stare at my nude body in the bathroom mirror after a shower. There are still faint yellowish spots from the worst of the bruises, but I don’t have any pain, and I don’t have any scars. I’ve received counseling, and I’m ready to move on with my life—with our lives.
It took ten years to find our way back to each other. I can’t stand the idea of sleeping next to him in the same bed if he doesn’t feel the same way I do anymore.
Time to act, Elizabeth.
Except… What if he says he’s changed his mind about me? What if he’s decided I’m just…not worth it anymore? His sister almost got killed—Andy didn’t get her, but he would have if he’d thought he needed to—and Dominic almost died, too.
My palms are wet, and it’s not because of the steam in the bathroom. I dry my hands, put some lotion on my skin. I have to confront him. Today’s Saturday, and Brian told me Dominic didn’t have to be in the office for anything. The last few weeks, he’s gone in every weekend for urgent projects.
I put on light makeup and my pink power dress. It’s time to figure out what’s wrong.
I make my way to the kitchen, then stop. Dominic’s in a button-down shirt and slacks, the type of outfit he wears to work. My hand flies to my chest, and I can’t help myself but say in a shaky voice, “You’re going to work today too?”
He shoots me an apologetic smile, then looks away, busying himself with pouring another cup of coffee. “A minor project, but we’re behind.” He stirs his coffee, which is weird as hell because he drinks it black.
“Stop lying! That’s such bullshit!” The voice erupting out of me is so shrill and loud that I almost flinch.
But my reaction’s nothing compared to Dominic’s. He jerks his head back, then puts the coffee back on the counter. “Excuse me?” Unlike mine, his voice is soft, measured, calm.
And it heightens the dread until my stomach roils violently. “Brian told me you don’t have anything scheduled today.”
Dominic scowls. “He did, huh?”
“Why are you avoiding me? What’s wrong?” My legs shake. I struggle to breathe, but I manage to cling to control. “Don’t you…” I lick my lips. “Don’t you want me anymore?”
He stiffens. “Liza.”
“You’ve been so distant, Dominic. If this is the end…” I pull my lips in, then gather my courage. This needs to be said—resolved. “Just say it’s over. Don’t make us miserable by pretending like it’s going to be okay one day.” Now that I’ve started, I can’t stop. The rest of the words pour out. “I fell in love with you at first sight when I was seventeen. I’m twenty-eight now. I want to know where we stand. If we’re done, then let me know so I can…move on.”