Forgiveness
The room was still. Dominic sat behind his desk, his broad shoulders slightly hunched. The pencil beneath his hand rolled back and forth with a quiet rhythm as he began to speak, his voice low but steady.
"Etta," he said, his tone carrying an unfamiliar softness, "I want you to know how much I regret this. I was so hopeful for us, so enjoying the progression of our relationship. I don't agree with your abhorrence of our traditions and rituals, but I do understand them a bit more now. I wish I had done so earlier—it would have saved us both a lot of pain."
He paused, his eyes dropping to the desk, unable to meet mine as he continued. "I wouldn't do it again. If I knew then what I know now, I wouldn't have done it at all." Finally, he looked up, his gaze piercing into mine,
