Chapter 4:The Price of Leaving Her
1212 Words
Dominic's POV
I left Cynthia in that hotel room, but part of me stayed behind with her.
I could still feel her warmth on my skin, still hear her whispering my name like it was the only thing holding her together. I could still taste her tears on my lips.
And I could still feel how tightly she held me...as if she knew that the moment she let go, I’d disappear.
Maybe she did know.
Because the second I stepped outside the hotel, the cold air hit me like reality slamming into my chest.
I had crossed a line.
A deep one.
One that intimacy always draws.
And instead of feeling anchored to her, I felt like I was sinking deeper into a pit I wouldn’t escape.
By the time I reached home, my breaths were short, my head spinning with everything we’d done, everything I said, and everything I couldn’t say.
I walked through the front door trying to look collected, but the moment I entered the foyer, my mother stood up from the living room couch as if she’d been waiting for me.
“Dominic. Finally.”
I blinked at the sight of her, my father, and my older brother all gathered as though this was some kind of tribunal.
My father’s tone was sharp. “Get in here.”
I followed them into the living room. The lights were dimmed but the tension was heavy...thicker than the air. My mother paced, holding a glass of wine that she hadn’t touched.
My brother, Adrian, sat in the corner scrolling through his phone like he was bored of the whole thing. But I knew him...he was observant, judging everything.
I stayed standing.
My father didn’t waste time. “Victoria Anderson called us tonight.”
I exhaled shakily. “I know.”
“She told us Cynthia is pregnant.”
“She’s not,” I said immediately. My voice cracked. “She isn’t. It’s a lie.”
Adrian snorted. “Women lie about pregnancy all the time when they’re desperate. Dad, you warned him.”
I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt.
My mother approached me slowly. “Dominic… sweetheart… we know you’re attached to her. Strong emotions can blind a man. But this situation is serious.”
My voice was low. “She didn’t lie.”
My mother and father exchanged a look...the one they always used when they believed I was being naive.
My father spoke firmly. “Where were you tonight?”
My chest tightened.
I couldn’t tell them.
I couldn’t tell them I held Cynthia while she cried.
That I kissed her.
That I let her take down every wall I had.
That we made love.
That for a moment, she felt like the only truth in my life.
I couldn’t say any of it.
So I stayed silent.
My mother sighed. “Exactly.”
“Mom...”
“Dominic,” she interrupted softly, “listen to us. This girl...Cynthia...she comes from chaos. Her mother was unstable. You can’t tie yourself to someone who drags drama and scandal behind them.”
I closed my eyes. I saw Cynthia’s face. Her tears. The way she whispered, *“I love you.”*
My voice shook. “You don’t know her.”
“I don’t have to,” my mother said calmly. “I know her world.”
My father leaned forward. “This couldn’t have come at a worse time. The Anderson merger is fragile right now. We cannot afford even a whisper of scandal.”
There it was.
The merger.
The business.
Not love.
Not me.
Not my feelings.
The company came first. Always.
My father continued, “The Andersons are concerned. They need assurance of our commitment.”
“To what?” I asked bitterly. “To them owning me?”
“To the alliance,” he corrected sharply. “And to Natasha.”
I felt a cold jolt move through my chest. “Dad...”
“She is a refined young woman,” my mother said. “Educated. Polite. Kind. Honest. Everything we want for you.”
Kind and honest.
If I hadn’t been drowning in misery, I would have laughed.
Natasha was the one who framed Cynthia.
Natasha was the reason everything fell apart.
I could feel it.
But of course my family believed her.
Girls like Natasha were born with halos in their eyes, halos built from money and image and family power. Girls like Cynthia were always painted as the problem.
“Dominic,” my father said, “you ended things with Cynthia?”
My throat tightened painfully.
“I… did.”
I hated myself for it.
Every part of me felt wrong.
My chest ached.
My stomach twisted.
My eyes burned.
But I nodded anyway.
“Good,” my father said. “That was the right decision.”
Right.
So why did it feel like I’d torn my own heart out?
My mother exhaled in relief and sat down. “Now we can proceed.”
Adrian put his phone away, finally paying attention. “The Andersons want to move the engagement forward.”
My heart dropped. “Forward?”
“Yes,” my father said. “Their family dinner is tomorrow evening. They expect us. Natasha especially.”
I swallowed hard. “I’m not ready.”
“You don’t have a choice,” he said sternly. “This is bigger than you. Our company’s future depends on this.”
My voice was hollow. “And what about my future?”
“You will have stability,” my mother insisted. “Natasha is good for you. She’s loyal, from a respectable family, and she genuinely likes you.”
I let out a bitter breath.
Yeah.
She liked me enough to destroy Cynthia just to get to me.
My mother continued softly, “Once everything settles, you’ll see she’s the right choice. The safe choice. The better choice.”
Better.
Cynthia’s smile flashed in my mind.
Her laugh.
The way she looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that made sense.
The way she touched me like she knew every c***k in me and loved me anyway.
If that wasn’t “better,” I didn’t know what was.
But my father’s voice cut through my thoughts like a blade. “Tomorrow, you will sit beside Natasha. You will hold her hand if needed. You will show the Andersons that this family honors its commitments.”
I felt the walls closing in.
“And the engagement?” I asked quietly.
My father adjusted his tie. “We will announce it soon.”
My chest tightened so fiercely it hurt to breathe.
My mother placed a gentle hand on my arm. “Dominic… give yourself time. This pain will pass. And in the long run, you’ll thank us.”
I nodded numbly.
Because that was what they expected.
Because fighting them felt impossible.
Because tonight I was too broken to resist.
But deep inside me, something twisted painfully...like a warning my heart was trying to send before it shattered completely.
And somewhere in a quiet hotel room, Cynthia was probably crying alone, believing I didn’t love her.
The worst part was…
I wasn’t sure I deserved her belief anymore.
- Writer
