Chapter 7 - THE LAST THING MY MOTHER ASKED DOMINIC
Mom came home Tuesday.
Lily ran into the farmhouse first.
Mom cried when she saw her.
Dad cried too.
Nobody pretended otherwise.
Dominic stayed near the doorway.
Mom noticed.
“Why are you standing there?”
He looked almost surprised.
“I wasn’t sure—”
“Come here.”
He obeyed.
She reached for his bandaged shoulder.
“You got shot?”
“Barely.”
“Because of my granddaughter?”
“Yes.”
Mom looked at me.
Then back at Dominic.
“You still fake?”
I covered my face.
“Mom.”
Dominic answered:
“No.”
My heart stopped.
Mom smiled.
“Good.”
I looked at him.
“We have not discussed that.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
“You don’t get to announce relationship status to dying women.”
“Apparently I do.”
Mom laughed until she coughed.
Dad muttered:
“I still don’t trust him.”
Dominic looked at him.
“Reasonable.”
Dad almost smiled.
The next few weeks became strangely normal.
Dominic returned to Manhattan during weekdays.
He came back every Friday.
Not with security convoys.
One car.
Sometimes Marco drove.
Sometimes Dominic drove himself.
He fixed nothing without asking.
That was harder for him than any corporate battle.
Dad’s tractor broke.
Dominic asked permission before calling a mechanic.
Dad refused.
Dominic spent six hours in the barn with him.
Neither man knew how to repair that particular problem.
They finally called the mechanic together.
I considered this progress.
Lily stopped calling him pretend.
She called him Dominic.
Then “Dom.”
Then, once, “Daddy Dominic.”
He nearly dropped a plate.
I pretended not to notice.
Mom got weaker.
Some mornings she couldn’t leave bed.
Other days, she insisted on sitting outside.
Dominic read to her once when Dad had to go into town.
I found them on the porch.
Mom asleep.
Dominic holding the book open.
He looked up.
“She fell asleep.”
“She does that.”
“I wasn’t boring.”
“You were reading agricultural insurance regulations.”
“She asked.”
“She was being polite.”
He looked offended.
I sat beside him.
For a while we said nothing.
Then:
“I love you.”
I turned.
Dominic’s face was calm.
Mine was not.
“What?”
“I’m not asking for anything.”
“You can’t just—”
“I know.”
“Dominic.”
“I’ve been thinking about it.”
“How long?”
“Longer than this weekend.”
My heart tightened.
“I don’t know if I can do your world.”
“I’m changing my world.”
“Because of me?”
“No.”
He looked toward Lily chasing chickens with Dad.
“Because I should have changed it before you.”
That mattered.
Vittorio’s arrest had exposed financial crimes and coercion inside parts of the Moretti empire.
Dominic could have hidden everything.
Instead, he opened books to federal attorneys.
Sold businesses tied to illegal operations.
Removed men who refused.
Lost money.
Influence.
Fear.
He gained sleep.
At least sometimes.
“I don’t want to be rescued,” I said.
“I know.”
“I don’t want Lily growing up surrounded by guards.”
“I know.”
“I want to work.”
“Yes.”
“My own money.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want every disagreement solved because you’re richer.”
His mouth twitched.
“That one will be difficult.”
“Dominic.”
“Joke.”
I laughed.
Then he said:
“I don’t want someone who needs me.”
His voice softened.
“I want someone who chooses me.”
My eyes filled.
“I’m scared.”
“So am I.”
“Of what?”
“You saying no.”
That shocked me.
A man who had survived everything.
Afraid of one word from me.
I reached for his hand.
“I’m not saying no.”
He looked at me.
“I’m not saying yes to forever either.”
He nodded.
“Fair.”
“I’m saying today.”
“Today?”
“Yes.”
He smiled.
“I can work with today.”
That evening, Mom asked to speak to Dominic alone.
I objected.
She told me to stop being nosy.
Twenty minutes later, he came downstairs looking shaken.
“What did she say?”
“Private.”
“My mother.”
“Still private.”
I found out the next morning.
Mom told me herself.
“I asked him what happens if you decide you don’t love him.”
“Mom!”
“What?”
“What did he say?”
She smiled.
“He said he would be heartbroken.”
I swallowed.
“And then?”
“He said he would make sure you never paid for his heartbreak.”
I stopped breathing.
Mom reached for my hand.
“That’s how you know.”
“Know what?”
“A man is safe.”
Her eyes filled.
“Not because he never hurts. Because he doesn’t punish you for having choices.”
I cried.
She held me.
“I’m not ready for you to go.”
“I know.”
“I need more time.”
“So does everyone.”
“Mom.”
She smiled sadly.
“Then use what you get.”
Three days later, Mom’s doctor called.
Her latest scans showed something unexpected.
The cancer had not disappeared.
But the progression had slowed.
A treatment they believed had failed seemed to be buying time.
Not years.
Maybe months.
Possibly more.
Mom laughed when we told her.
“I told death I’m busy.”
Dad kissed her.
Emma cried.
Lily asked if heaven had canceled.
Mom said:
“Postponed.”
Dominic looked away because his eyes filled.
That night, we stood outside beneath the stars.
“You’re crying,” I said.
“No.”
“Terrible liar.”
“Yes.”
I leaned against him.
He put one arm around me.
Carefully.
Still asking with every movement.
“Mom wants another wedding.”
“Whose?”
I looked up.
He froze.
I laughed.
“Emma says you looked terrified.”
“I was evaluating risk.”
“Of marriage?”
“Of your father.”
Dad shouted from the porch:
“I can hear you!”
Dominic sighed.
I laughed harder.
For the first time in years, I felt happy without immediately waiting for punishment.
Then Dominic’s phone buzzed.
He looked at it.
A message from his attorney.
Vittorio had agreed to cooperate.
The remaining dangerous operations tied to the Moretti family were coming apart.
Dominic stared.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
He put the phone away.
Then looked toward the farmhouse.
Mom alive.
Lily laughing inside.
My father pretending not to like him.
Me beside him.
“I think so.”
He kissed my forehead.
It was not dramatic.
May you like
Maybe that was why I believed it.
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