A wave of emotions crashes over me, tangled and unclear. I don't know exactly what I'm feeling at this moment. Anger? Confusion? Maybe both.
Dan's jealousy lingers in my mind, stirring something I don't want to acknowledge. I mean,
he's with Sabrina, why does he care if I'm with Dom? A part of me, the part I wish I could ignore, likes that he's affected.
But the rational part of me, the one trying to keep my world from shattering, keeps reminding me, He's my brother.
I sigh deeply as I reach for the door handle, twisting it open. The sight before me makes me pause.
On the table, right in the center of the room, sits a large bouquet of pink roses. My favorite.
A small card rests beside them. My eyes immediately flicker across the room, and that's when I see him
Dom,
He's seated, wearing a slight but warm smile, watching me.
I step inside cautiously, my mind trying to make sense of this.
"Dom?" My voice comes out softer than I intended, laced with confusion.
He stands up, taking the bouquet in his hands and offering it to me. There's something shy about the way he does it, like he's unsure of my reaction.
I hesitate, my gaze shifting from him to the flowers, then to the note. Slowly, I reach for it, my fingers tracing over the paper as I read:
"When the ground shifts beneath you, let time be your anchor. You are not alone."
A lump forms in my throat.
Before I can find the right words, Dom speaks. "I didn't want to come empty-handed. Considering, you know… everything that's happening right now," he says, his voice laced with uncertainty.
I blink, staring at him, completely speechless.
A small smile tugs at my lips. I can't help it. "Oh, Dom… this is so thoughtful. You didn't have to do this," I say, my voice carrying a warmth I hadn't felt all day.
For the first time, I take in the flowers fully. The petals are soft, vibrant, familiar. He chose these.
Bringing them closer to my face, I inhale their fresh scent before glancing up at him. "How did you know these were my favorite?"
He scratches the back of his head, looking a little embarrassed.
"Selena helped," he admits with a sheepish smile.
I freeze. Selena?
A flicker of something sharp and unspoken flashes through me. We aren't exactly on talking terms right now.
Why would she help him with this?
"Selena?" I repeat, trying to keep my tone neutral.
Dom nods. "Yeah. I told her I wanted to get you something that would make you feel better, and she suggested these.
" His smile is so genuine, so unaware of the tension between me and Selena, that I decide not to say anything.
Instead, I force a small chuckle.
"Well… she chose right."
I walk towards the kitchen, carefully placing the bouquet on the counter.
"Wow, that's a proper gentleman," Mrs. May teases as she watches me pull out a flower vase.
I roll my eyes playfully but can't stop the blush creeping up my neck.
"Are they back?" I ask, referring to my parents.
She shakes her head. "Not yet."
I nod, then return to the living room. Dom is now placing a few books down on the table.
"How's school? I haven't really been going for a while," I ask, handing him a bottle of juice as I sit beside him.
He exhales deeply, leaning back slightly. "Honestly? It's been boring without you."
I pause mid-sip, my cheeks warming. Was he flirting?
"Was I really that much of a troublemaker?" I tease, raising a brow.
Dom grins. "No, but it's not the same when you're not around."
There's a beat of silence, and then he clears his throat, breaking the moment. "Here's your result from the last assignment I gave you."
I take the paper from him, my eyes scanning it. An excellent score. I blink, surprised. I can't remember the last time I performed this well.
"You did great, Helen," Dom acknowledges, noticing my expression.
I nod slowly, still processing.
"You know… I think we should go over some math today. I've been struggling with it a little," I admit.
He nods, already reaching into his bag. "Good thing I brought my textbook then."
"I am having trouble with the equations." I say to him.
He goes ahead, explaining things in that calm, steady way of his, untangling every knot of confusion I had.
His patience is unwavering, his voice firm yet gentle, as if he knows I need that balance right now.
"So, this is a today's assignment I'll be giving you. And a test."
I nod and pick up my pen, letting the silence settle between us. But even as I focus on the work in front of me,
I can feel his gaze lingering. Not intrusive, not demanding, just present. Watching.
"How are you holding up, Helen?"
The pen in my hand stills. I exhale, slow and measured, before looking up. He's watching me intently, his lips slightly parted as he swallows down a sip of water.
The muscles in his throat move, and for a second, I focus on that, on something so ordinary, because everything else feels unbearably heavy.
"Honestly… I don't know." The words slip out in a breath.
He nods, like he expected that answer. "What's Dan saying about all this?"
A scoff escapes me before I can stop it.
"He knows. Funny thing is, he said he's made peace with it." My lips twist in disbelief as I remember the conversation.
Dom raises a brow. "Did he ever say why he didn't tell you? Had he known all along?"
I avert my gaze, fingers tightening around the pen.
"He said he didn't want to lose us." My voice drips with bitterness, and I even emphasize us with air quotes.
Dom exhales. "Ah." A simple sound, but it carries weight.
I let out a humorless laugh.
"I don't know how to tell our parents that their own son doesn't want to be theirs.
He already has this… this twisted idea about them, like they're some burden he had to escape from."
The frustration in my voice fades into exhaustion, my shoulders slumping.
Dom moves closer, the space between us shrinking. His scent, something warm, familiar, grounding, fills my senses.
My throat tightens, my pulse picking up. "And did you know…" My voice wavers, breaking at the edges. I swallow hard, trying to keep it together.
"He's the reason I never got to have them. My parents."
A single tear escapes before I can stop it.
Dom's expression softens instantly. "Oh, Helen…"
Then, before I can blink, his arms are around me. The embrace is warm, solid, real. And I didn't realize how much I needed it until now.
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," he murmurs, his breath brushing against my hair.
I tighten my arms around his neck, gripping onto him like he's the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely. The dam breaks, and the sobs come freely now, my tears soaking into his shirt.
"And he doesn't care at all," I whisper, my voice raw.
Dom doesn't pull away. If anything, he holds me tighter. One of his hands moves in slow, soothing circles along my back, his touch steady, reassuring.
And then—there it is. The spark.
That same, undeniable pull that I've felt before.
It flickers in the air between us, in the warmth of his touch, in the way my body leans into his.
My breath catches.
I don't know if he feels it too, but the awareness is suffocating.
Panic flutters in my chest
. No. No, I can't do this.
I force myself to pull away, untangling my arms from around him. My heart is hammering, my skin burning where his hands had been. I can't let myself feel this kind of spark for him.
For Dom.
For my brother's cousin.
I clear my throat, trying to regain some control.
"Thank you." My voice is barely above a whisper. Without another word, I turn back to my test, keeping my gaze firmly on the paper, pretending like nothing just happened.
Dom doesn't move. I can feel his eyes on me, feel the tension humming in the air.
"Helen." His voice is softer this time, deeper.
I hesitate before looking up.
His expression is careful, unreadable.
"Did I do something wrong?"
There's something almost anxious in the way he asks, as if afraid he's crossed a line.
I shake my head quickly. "No, you didn't." My voice is uneven, my emotions still raw. I try to steady my gaze, to meet his eyes fully, but I can't.
Dom watches me for a moment, then speaks again, calm and deliberate. "I just want you to know that I care. And if you need someone to talk to, I can be that for you."
My heart stutters.
For the first time since this nightmare began, someone is offering to be there for me. No conditions. No expectations. Just there.
I want to believe him.
I want to let myself sink into that comfort, to trust his words.
But I can't.
Instead, I force a small, polite smile. Acknowledging him. A silent thank you.
Then, I drop my gaze back to my test, pretending like I didn't just feel the ground shift beneath me.