Aria’s POV
The key turned in the lock before I even knocked. Dominic opened the door wearing an old black T-shirt and sweatpants, his hair still damp from a shower. He smiled and stepped aside to let me in.
I kicked off my boots by the door, dropped my bag, and headed straight for the bathroom. The day’s paint had dried in thin streaks across my knuckles. I ran cold water over my hands, watched the color thin and swirl down the drain, then paused. A faint smear still clung to the inside of my wrist. I dried my hands without scrubbing it off.
When I came out he was already pulling foil containers from the microwave. Chicken curry and rice. He slid one across the counter for me without asking if I wanted to eat. But I was famished. We stood there eating straight from the containers, shoul
