If I Let You Go

“You freaked out over her.” I opened my mouth to speak but he went on. “Don’t try to tell me you didn’t. But I need to know why you freaked out.”

“She called me ‘the maid.’”

At my bitter tone, Dominic burst out laughing, and I reached over and slapped his leg. “It’s not funny!”

“No. Of course not,” he said, trying to wipe the smirk off his face. “I’m just imagining the things you probably wanted to say to her when she called you that.”

The corners of my mouth twitched. “I wanted to say lots of things. But I was very polite.”

“You know that’s not what I meant though.”

“I know. I just don’t know the answer to the question. And even if I did … you’re still going to New York. Aren’t you?”

“Yes. But … how long I stay might depend on your answer. So can you find one?”

I loved how he watched me so intently, hopefully. The way one arm rested against the back of the sofa, and how his blue tie hung loosely around his neck, a sharp contrast against his crisp white shirt.

I loved him.

“I was jealous,” I blurted out. “When Serena called and said you were with her, I was jealous. And the realisation is what freaked me out.”

Dominic let out what sounded like a sigh of relief. He reached for me, his hand moving to the back of my neck, his thumb tracing gentle circles across my skin. “I felt the same way when you said you were going to spend the night with Neil. I hated it.”

“If it makes you feel better, nothing happened. I spent the whole night talking about you.”

“It helps. But now we need to work out what to do. I don’t know what’s happening between us, but … I know that if I let you go, I’ll regret it.”

My heart flipped over at his words, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

“Why?” I asked. “Why do you think you might regret it? Because of Tilly?”

He shook his head. “No. This isn’t about Tilly, it’s about me. This past year has been so hard. Being away so often … it’s exhausting. But no matter where I am, I know that every night I get to talk to you. Hearing your voice … it makes the bad days easier. I didn’t realise what that meant until we had that argument when I told you I was leaving. I knew everything you said was true, and I was pissed off with myself for not talking to you about it sooner.” He paused, closing his eyes for a second before continuing. “You were right. I don’t need this job, Maddi. I never did. But I do need to be with you.”

Words sped through my brain. Words that would tell him how I felt, how much I wanted, needed, him to stay. They tumbled around my mind, crashing against each other, but nothing would come out.

I took both ends of his tie in my hands, and slowly drew him in to me, my heart racing because maybe, just maybe, I was about to get everything I wanted but was too afraid to admit.

He glanced down at my lips, waiting.

Just one more second.

Ready.

I brushed my lips against his, and right away, I was transported back to the first time we kissed. It was different, slower. But the need to feel his mouth on mine was the same and I shuffled closer to him, untucking my legs from underneath me and wrapping them around his waist so we were pressed together. He ran his hands down my back, deepening the kiss as our tongues met. We fell backwards, me on top, him holding me tightly so I didn’t fall. My stomach churned with joy, and every part of me began to tremble.

You’ve already fallen.

For the second time that night, a giggle startled me, and I leapt away from Dominic to find Tilly standing in front of us. She didn’t look too traumatised, but the sight of me straddling her father had the potential to scar her for life!

Dominic sat up too, and we looked at each other, unsure what to say. We’d barely worked out what we were – apart from horny – so we weren’t fully prepared to answer Tilly’s questions.

“Wh … what are you doing out of bed?” Dominic stammered, making me laugh.

Anyone would think she was the parent.

“I’m thirsty,” she said. “What are you doing?”