In Love With Him

Chapter 46

Dominic — POV

The week after Kennedy’s doctor appointment had been… normal.

Painfully, frustratingly normal.

Kennedy returned to school. Still a little stiff, still favoring one side when she walked or bent down too fast, but she looked so much better than she had a week ago. Stronger. Lighter. Smiling more. Laughing with Max.

Max, of course, was back to being his usual 13-year-old self—pestering Kennedy every chance he got. Hiding her notebooks, stealing the last of the cereal, popping around corners with jump scares that had her threatening murder on a daily basis. The kid was lucky he was cute.

Paul and my mom were busy prepping for Thanksgiving. The holiday tension was thick in the air—recipes scattered across the kitchen counter, the grocery list scribbled on the fridge in three different types of handwriting. The scent of cinnamon and clove had taken over the house, and the oven was constantly humming.

And then there was me—doing everything in my power to stay away from her.

I didn’t know what happened that night.

The night I came home obliterated.

The night she was in my bed.

I remembered flashes. Her voice. Her touch. The scent of her hair. The way her fingers slipped through mine like silk, then retreated. I remembered the way her forehead rested against mine. I remembered the ache in my chest. The hunger. The guilt. The need to bury myself in her and forget everything else.

But nothing clear.

And she didn’t say anything.

So either…

Nothing happened.

Or something did, and she wasn’t ready to talk about it.

Either way, I wasn’t going to press her.

It was easier to pretend nothing had changed.

Even if everything inside me had.

I kept my space.

I stayed in my room longer.

Left for the gym earlier.

Came home later.

Laughed politely at her jokes, but didn’t linger.

Didn’t touch her.

Because if I did... I didn’t trust myself.

And just when I thought things couldn’t get any more complicated, the f*****g doorbell rang.

Great. Kyle was here.

I sighed, closing my laptop and pushing myself up from the living room armchair.

The hum of voices from the kitchen disappeared as both mom and Paul went toward the door.

“Dominic!” mom called. “Your brother’s here!”

Awesome.

Don’t get me wrong—I love Kyle. He’s my brother. My blood. But our relationship has always been… complicated. Rough around the edges. Molded from survival and resentment and the kind of brotherhood you only develop when you’ve been raised by the same monster.

Where I stayed behind to protect Mom, Kyle escaped every moment he could, to a friend s house or whatever. Joined the military. Never looked back.

I didn’t blame him, not really.

But there were days—weeks—when I wished he’d taken me with him. Or at least come back sooner.

I headed toward the front hallway just as the door opened.

Kyle stepped inside, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, buzzed short hair barely covered by a knit beanie, dressed in dark military greens with his signature cocky smirk already in place.

Beside him was a girl—his girlfriend, I assumed. Pretty. Blonde. Perfect makeup. The kind of girl Kyle usually went for—sharp-edged, stylish, confident. She looked around the foyer like she was stepping into an Airbnb.

“Dom,” Kyle said, locking eyes with me. “Still ugly as s**t, I see.”

I smirked. “Still compensating with that weak-ass handshake?”

He dropped his bag and crossed the room. We met halfway with a quick slap to the shoulder and a bro-hug—one hard pat each before pulling apart.

“Jesus,” he said. “You got taller.”

“You got balder.”

He grinned. “Missed you too.”

The air shifted as we stood there. Neither of us said anything for a second. Just a flash of something between us—unspoken, heavy. Years of silence and pain and everything we never dealt with, wrapped into a single glance.

Then Kyle turned to the girl beside him. “This is Morgan. My girlfriend.”

“Hi,” she said sweetly.

I gave her a polite nod and muttered, “Welcome to the chaos.”

Morgan smiled, oblivious to the tension simmering underneath the surface. She was in for a long weekend.

And me?

I was already counting down the hours until Kyle left again.

---

Kennedy – POV

The first week back at school wasn’t too bad.

I hadn’t fallen too far behind, thankfully. My teachers were kind, mostly. Mr. Beckett was practically bouncing when I walked into his classroom again, smiling like I’d just returned from war. He even gave me some "fun holiday writing prompts" as a welcome back gift. I rolled my eyes, but I wasn’t mad about it. It was nice to be noticed, appreciated. Normal.

Amber wasn’t at school either, which was a miracle in itself. Apparently her cousin was visiting for the holidays, so she stayed home all week. I didn’t question it. I just soaked in the peace.

But Liam… yeah. That moment was awkward.

He finally caught me at my locker one afternoon.

“Hey,” he said, hesitating a little. “You alright?”

I looked up, blinking. “Yeah. Why?”

“I heard what happened.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Someone said your pancreas like... exploded?”

I winced. “Almost ruptured.”

“Oh f**k,” he breathed, eyes wide. “Seriously?”

I nodded, cheeks flushing. “Yeah. Almost died.”

He looked horrified for a second, then tried to laugh it off. “s**t. I thought maybe it was my kiss that did you in.”

I couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped me.

He grinned. “But really—I’m glad you’re okay. If you ever need anything, just text me, alright?”

Then he reached out and gently rubbed my arm. There was a flash in his eyes, like he wanted to lean in and kiss me or say something else, but he didn’t. He just smiled and walked away.

It was sweet.

But all I could think about was Dominic.

God, Dominic.

He’d been keeping his distance. A few short conversations here and there, maybe a shared glance during breakfast, but nothing more.

He hadn’t mentioned that night he came home drunk. Not the way I found him in his bed, the way I touched his hair, the way I rested my forehead against his. He hadn’t said a word about the soft, sleepy confession that slipped from his lips.

I love you.

Did he remember?

Or was he too drunk?

Or worse… maybe he did remember and regretted it.

Just like the kiss.

The kiss he pretended didn’t matter.

The one that’s haunted me ever since.

I didn’t bring it up. Couldn’t. I was too afraid to hear him say it was a mistake again. Too afraid it would hurt worse the second time.

The final bell rang, dragging me out of my thoughts.

Max and I caught the bus home. I was healing well now—still a little sore, but I could move around much easier. No more needing help up the stairs. No more protein shakes. Just… a dull ache I could handle.

We reached our street, and I noticed a sleek black SUV parked in front of the house.

Kyle.

Dominic’s older brother.

I’d only met him once—last Christmas. He was nice. Quiet but polite. We didn’t talk much, but I remembered thinking he looked nothing like Dominic. Kyle had this military sharpness to him, while Dominic was... all intensity and warmth and edge.

Max and I walked into the house to find everyone gathered in the living room. Dad and Helen were there, chatting with Kyle, and of course… Dominic. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

But I could tell just by looking at him that he wasn’t thrilled.

Kyle stood when he saw us.

“Hey, Max!” he said, patting him on the back. “You’re getting tall.”

Then he turned to me. “Kennedy.”

I nodded.

He gently hugged me, nothing weird or overly familiar—just polite, warm. “Heard what happened. That’s some scary stuff. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks to Dominic,” I said softly, casting a glance toward the kitchen. “He’s the one who took care of me.”

Kyle raised a brow, smirking slightly. “Well, well. My baby brother the hero.”

Dominic’s jaw tightened, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Before the awkward silence could settle in, Kyle gestured to the girl beside him. “This is Morgan—my girlfriend.”

Morgan stepped forward with a bright smile and extended her hand. “Hi! It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

I shook her hand and smiled back. “All good things, I hope?”

“Mostly,” she winked.

She was pretty—really pretty. Long lashes, sleek blonde hair, toned arms. The kind of woman who looked like she had her life perfectly organized in color-coded tabs. But she wasn’t rude or snobby. She had a calm confidence that made her surprisingly likable.

The air in the room shifted again, and I glanced at Dominic.

He hadn’t moved.

Still watching. Still unreadable.

And for some reason... I couldn’t stop wondering what he was thinking.