Chapter 121: Chapter 121
Music Recommendation: Let Somebody Go by Coldplay and Selena Gomez.
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Celeste sank back against the pillows, her chest rising and falling with the faintest tremor. Dominic had brought her back to the room so they’d clean up before dinner.
Her skin was flushed, warm, and damp with the remnants of their closeness, and yet she shivered—not from the cold, but from him. From the weight of Dominic’s touch still imprinted everywhere on her body, from the memory of his breath against her throat.
Dominic pressed a lingering kiss to her temple before he finally pulled away to stand. He reached for the towel he had left earlier after bringing her into the room, and moved with unhurried grace, helping her clean up with a tenderness that almost felt dangerous.
She should have been used to his ways by now, but no. Every time he handled her like this, she felt the same tightening in her chest.
"Come on," he murmured, soft but firm, easing her into one of his shirts. It was oversized, loose enough to slip past her thighs, swallowing her whole, and yet the way he buttoned just enough of it made her feel...his. Marked without needing a mark.
Dominic brushed a thumb across her jaw. His gaze was affectionate, and lingering, as though she were the most fragile thing he had ever touched.
Then he straightened, and walked into his closet without another word. She sat there, legs curled under the fabric of his shirt, watching him disappear behind the door.
When he returned, he wasn’t empty-handed. He carried a small velvet box. The box was neat and simple, but his eyes gave it weight.
"I got you something," he said.
Her brows pulled together as she took the box from him. Her fingers hesitated over the lid, but curiosity eventually won. She opened it, and froze.
Nestled inside was a sleek bottle of vanilla perfume. It’s glass shaped with elegance, with the exact kind of luxury that wasn’t bought on a whim. It was expensive. It was deliberate.
Her lips parted slightly. "Dominic..."
"You like it?" he asked, crouching just enough to meet her eyes.
"It’s... beautiful." Her voice was quieter than she meant. "What’s this for?"
Dominic smiled, slow and tender. He had unintentionally been waiting for her to ask. "Since your birthday’s in a week, I figured I’d start giving you early presents."
Her stomach twisted. She blinked at him, the words catching in her throat. When she looked into the file he had about her, she never thought he’d hold on to her birthday. "...How did you..." she trailed off, remembering the files.
"I make it my job to know things about you," he interrupted, gently, not smug. He was simply just stating a fact.
Celeste stared at the perfume again, but the shine of the glass blurred because her eyes betrayed her. A birthday. She never spoke about her birthdays. Not with Landon. Not with anyone.
The only person she had ever spent them with was Amara, and even then, their celebrations were muted, and bare. A dinner, or maybe a slice of cake Amara insisted on, but nothing more.
Birthdays meant nothing more to her than a cruel reminder of beginnings. Birthdays to her was the day she had been born and was the day her mother’s life got destroyed. That day was the day her mother was bound to a man who had done nothing but drain the light out of both of them. How could she celebrate that? How could she speak of it?
She was simply equal to the pain, when she decided to exist, and her mother didn’t abort her. a thousand times, she wondered how glorious her mother’s life would have been if she didn’t have her.
Her chest ached, but Dominic was still watching her. Like he didn’t see her silence as rejection. He was willing to wait.
"Have you ever been to Paris?" he asked suddenly.
The question startled her. "Paris?"
He tilted his head, studying her with a trace of mischief that softened the weight of his gaze. "Yes. Paris."
She shook her head. "No. Never." She didn’t sound like she liked the idea of it.
The corner of his mouth lifted, and his expression broke into something sweeter than she was ready for. He stepped forward, slid his arms around her waist, and pulled her against him until her body rested flush against his chest.
"Then it’s settled," he whispered, his voice warm against her ear. "I booked us a week’s vacation there. Just you and me. We’ll celebrate your birthday in Paris."
Her breath caught.
She should have been excited. Paris wasn’t something people just offered like that. But instead, something heavy pressed down on her. Her smile faltered before it could even form.
"I can’t," she said quietly. "I have work."
Dominic brushed a hand along her back, unbothered. "I’ll get you the week off."
Celeste stiffened, pulling away slightly to look at him. Her eyes searched his, sharp now. "Do you even value my job?"
He blinked, his brow creasing. "Of course I do. Why would you ask me that?"
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. The silence stretched, choking her. With a shake of her head, Celeste slipped out of his embrace. She didn’t wait for his hand to reach her again. She turned, and paddled out of the room in nothing but his shirt.
Her bare feet carried her into the elevator. She pressed the button with a trembling hand and descended without a word.
By the time the elevator doors slid open into the kitchen, she had forced her face into stillness. She busied herself with setting plates, and checking the pot she had left simmering earlier. She avoided every thought that clawed at her.
Dominic didn’t follow the elevator. She heard his steps instead. The deliberate thud of his shoes against the staircase.
"Celeste," he said when he entered, his voice was low when he spoke. "Did I say something wrong?"
Her back faced him. She shook her head. "No." The reply came out clipped.
She reached for two plates. Her steady hands dished out the dinner she had cooked. Without asking, she moved to the dining table, setting the plates down carefully, one after the other.
When she finally lifted her gaze to him, her eyes flicked, sharp, and quick, beckoning him wordlessly to sit.
Dominic crossed the room slowly, then stopped in front of her. He lifted both hands, settling them gently on her shoulders.
"Hey, hey, hey," he murmured, dipping his head so his eyes were level with hers. "If something is wrong, you can talk to me about it. You know that, right?"
She nodded once. Still, her lips stayed sealed.
When she tried to look away, Dominic caught her face between his palms, tilting her chin so she had no choice but to meet his gaze.
That was when he saw it. There was a faint shimmer of tears clinging stubbornly to her lashes.
He didn’t say anything more. He simply pulled her into him, his arms locking around her as if he could shield her from whatever battle she was fighting within herself.
Celeste let her forehead rest against his chest.