The writing stops abruptly, and it sends a pang through my heart when I realize he stopped because he couldn't carry on – this is probably when he went to the hospital for the last time. And after he passed away, we stashed everything down here, because it was too painful to go through Daddy's stuff.
My hand flutters to my chest as I realize what this means.
Dad found out about me and Dom in the later stages of his illness, and despite everything that was going on, he accepted it.
Eyes filled with tears, I put everything back in its place, clutching the black notebook to my chest. I cover everything with the dusty sheets and try to be as quiet as possible when I climb the stairs.
I curl up on the sofa bed, the notebook pressed to my heart. The tears have stopped, but that doesn't mean I'm not hurting. Because I am – and worse than ever.
If only I had found the notebook when Daddy died.
If only I could go back.
If only I weren't engaged.
If only I were braver…
I shut my eyes, trying to convince myself it's not too late yet. But try as I might, I know I've moved on with my life and so should Dom. What happened between us could have blossomed into a romance, but the spark was extinguished by my father's death. And now it's too late to start a fire.
The realization doesn't make this any easier though, and as I fall into a fitful sleep, I dream of Dom.
Always Dom.
Only Dom.
Chapter 27
DOM
The wedding is drawing closer, and when it finally happens, my time in the guest house will come to an end. I haven't seen Cassidy much these days, but Adrian always seems to be around. He has this weird attitude towards me – half animosity, half friendliness. It makes me severely confused as to what he wants to accomplish.
I'm not sure whether he knows what happened between Cassidy and me. He might, or he might be in the dark. However, I'm sure he at least suspects something, shooting me those warning looks.
Truth be told, I never followed up with our bet. I could've gotten that car, which would've made life a lot easier at the time. But I chose not to, knowing it would be like dirty money.
Adrian's upgraded his ride since then and now drives a BMW. We haven't spoken of the bet once, like it's a subject neither of us dare broach.
It's been days since the brunch with all those women, and I've been trying to see Cassidy for a while now. It seems like she keeps dodging my company. Finally, my chance comes on a misty morning when I wake up early, like someone had just called my name.
I have an urge to go to the beach. I'm wearing swimming shorts as I head outside, thinking I might as well take a quick dip in the sea.
The beach is wet and misty, and it's hard to make out anything in this weather. As I walk along the shore, I make out a form a few feet away, and as I near it, it becomes clear that it's a woman.
Not any woman – it's Cassidy.
Her hair is down for once, just how I like it, in disarrayed waves around her shoulders. She's wearing a flimsy dress and it looks like she just came here straight from bed, her hair still wild and unruly.
"Morning, darlin'," I call out so as not to scare her. Her eyes float towards my figure hesitantly, and she smiles at me. That smile might be the end of me – every single time she gives me the time of day, my heart does funny things.
Suddenly all the things I've been doing for the past few years seem stupid.
The endless procession of girls in my bedroom, the models, beauties, all those women – they all pale in comparison to Cassidy. She is the sun itself, and they're nothing but moths, drawn to a flame.
I've been fooling myself, and I hope I haven't realized that too late.
"Morning," Cassidy replies with a yawn, her arms wrapped around her body to protect her from the coldness of the early hour. "What are you doing up so early?"
Her eyes are red-rimmed, and I wonder briefly if she's been crying, my hands tightening into fists. If that jackass made her cry, I'll make sure to knock his teeth out.
"Felt like a swim," I say instead, not revealing any of my worries, even though my mouth is pressed into a tight line. I grin at her and she gives me a suspicious look.
"What?" she worries, patting her hair.
"Dare," I say on a whim and her eyes widen as she remembers the game we played all those years ago.
"Dom…" she protests, but I'm not having any of it.