Chapter 3

A full week went by, and I almost forgot Dominic existed.

He didn't text. Didn't call. He was waiting me out, expecting me to crack first, to come crawling back with apologies the way I always did.

But I was enjoying the silence. I even took a long walk along the Hudson on my lunch break one afternoon.

I liked New York better than London. The breeze here was soft. Almost gentle.

London's wind was damp and heavy. It cut into you like broken glass.

Three years in London and I never once felt like I belonged there.

I used to wake up in the middle of the night with my heart pounding, remembering the promises Dominic had made to me on a Hamptons beach the summer we fell in love.

Then, late Friday afternoon, my phone buzzed.

"Seven p.m. tonight. Per Se, sixty-sixth floor. Happy anniversary."

I read the message three times. Something inside me wavered.

Per Se's Central Park view was glowing gold when I arrived. The city lights flickered on Dominic's face as he sat across from me, looking every inch the man I'd fallen in love with.

He pushed a velvet jewelry box across the table.

"Seven years, baby. Happy anniversary."

My fingers had barely grazed the lid when his phone started buzzing.

Tessa. Her name lit up the screen like a slap.

Dominic answered. Her voice came through, trembling, choked with tears.

"Dominic, the power just went out in my whole building. I'm so scared of the dark. I was trying to cut up an apple and I sliced my finger open, there's blood everywhere—"

Dominic's entire face shifted. He gripped the phone hard.

"You're bleeding? How bad is it? Do you have Band-Aids in the apartment?"

"Don't move, okay? Don't touch anything."

Three panicked questions in a row. I slid my hand back from the box. Whatever was inside didn't matter anymore.

He'd already forgotten I was across the table from him. Tessa let out another little shriek through the speaker.

Dominic looked up. His voice was soft, but his mind was already halfway across the city.

"Aurelia, Tessa's all alone in New York. She doesn't have family here. She's probably terrified."

"She can't handle this by herself. I have to go."

"Can you wait for me? I'll be quick."

He didn't wait for an answer. He was already grabbing his coat, already walking out.

In London, I lived alone. I learned how to change light bulbs. How to unclog a garbage disposal. How to haul a new mattress up three flights of stairs by myself.

I went from crying into my pillow every night to knowing which wrench to use on a leaky pipe.

Not once did he show up.

I stopped needing him a long time ago.

Thirty minutes later, Tessa walked into the restaurant with a pristine Band-Aid wrapped around her pinky finger.

She trailed behind Dominic like a scolded child, peeking out from behind his shoulder.

"Aurelia, I'm so sorry. I'm such a mess. I completely ruined your anniversary."

Dominic pulled out the chair next to his for her.

"Aurelia, Tessa used to work under you. Don't make her feel awkward, okay?"

The waiter arrived with our entrees. Dominic held up a hand to stop the dish with the seared scallops.

"Take that back. Bring her the lobster bisque instead."

That was what he used to order for me. Every single date, for seven years.

"Aurelia, your stomach's been off lately. Keep it light tonight. Eat something gentle with Tessa."

I had no idea who had a bad stomach. It wasn't me.

He ordered himself a black truffle filet mignon. Carved off a piece with the serving knife and dropped it onto my plate.

"Eat up, baby. You've been working too hard in London."

I stared down at the truffle shavings and my throat closed up.

Dominic had forgotten I was allergic.

Before London, I'd been rushed to the ER after one bite of a truffle pasta. He held my hand in the hospital bed and swore to me, on his life, that he would never let that food touch me again.

Across the table, his head was bent over Tessa's plate, patiently picking out sides for her.

"Your stomach gets upset easily, Tessa. Don't push yourself to eat something you don't like."

I picked up my fork. Kept my face blank. Cut into the filet and ate it.

Under the table, my other hand dug into my bag, pulled out the emergency antihistamine I always carried, and washed it down with red wine.

Tessa's hand "slipped" and knocked her wineglass sideways. A wave of red cabernet crashed across the front of her dress.

"Oh no, my dress—"

Her eyes welled up. Right on schedule.

Dominic reacted instantly. He snatched the small silk-wrapped package sitting next to my plate.

It was my seven-year anniversary gift to him. A silk pocket square I'd hand-embroidered over three sleepless nights in London.

He ripped open the tissue paper, balled up the silk, and started dabbing at Tessa's dress.

"How are you this clumsy? I thought this was your favorite dress."

Tessa mumbled, cheeks pink.

"It's my favorite because of who gave it to me."

When he was done, Dominic tossed the stained handkerchief onto the table like a dirty napkin.

He saw me staring at the crumpled silk and gave me an impatient look.

"Oh, come on. It's a piece of fabric. Her dress is ruined. She was about to cry."

"You've always seen the bigger picture. Don't pick a fight over something this small. Please."

I smiled to myself.

"You're right. Waste not, want not."

I stood up and walked to the front of the restaurant to pay the check.

Dominic caught up to me outside on the sidewalk and reached for my hand.

"Aurelia, I'll get you a new one tomorrow. Something nicer."

I sidestepped him and looked out at Park Avenue.

"Dominic. There isn't going to be a tomorrow."

He laughed softly, like he hadn't heard a word.

"Stop it. Go home and sleep it off."

I turned around and didn't look back.