Dominic’s POV
I didn’t know how I got back to the resort. One second I was on the beach watching her clinging to that guy like he was the damn love of her life, and the next I was standing under the wide white canopy of the outdoor bar, heart hammering, fingers twitching, stomach churning like I'd swallowed a storm.
The bartender raised an eyebrow when I sat down, sweat clinging to my back. “Rough morning?”
I didn’t answer. Just lifted two fingers and muttered, “Whiskey. Neat.”
He poured it without question.
I grabbed the glass and stared into the amber liquid for a beat. My reflection shimmered on the surface—bloodshot eyes, clenched jaw, guilt sharp enough to slice skin.
I tossed the first one back fast. It burned, but not enough.
Still, I signaled for another.
You’re spiraling,
