6. A man that reads
1808 Words
Thumper POV
That man paid my debts.
All of them.
Not a single balance left unpaid. Not one lingering charge. No room for error or misunderstanding.
My small chest felt tight as the realization settled in.
He didn’t do it out of kindness.
He did it because he wanted something.
He wanted me.
But who the hell was he?
I stood frozen in front of the secretary’s desk, my fingers curling slightly at my sides. This was supposed to be the moment where I received a printed bill, where I figured out how much longer I’d be drowning. Instead, the woman behind the counter only looked at her screen, frowned once, then smiled politely.
“There’s nothing outstanding on your account, Miss Parker, here is the recipe of the dents paid.”
Taking it I saw it too. Nothing.
The word echoed in my head.
I should have felt relief. I should have felt free.
Instead, panic crawled up my spine.
I owed Sabrina for helping me through the divorce—even if she said Dominic’s debt covered it, it didn’t feel that way to me. I owed Dominic’s mother for the clothes, jewelry, and shoes she’d insisted on buying me yesterday, brushing off my protests like they didn’t matter. I owed Dominic himself for the roof over my head, the protection, the way he kept showing up when I had nothing left to give.
And now this.
Debt terrifies me. It always has. It’s invisible chains—quiet ones that tighten when you’re not paying attention. Hearing Dominic say you don’t owe me only made it worse, because it felt like I was failing some invisible test of worth.
I turned to leave, my thoughts spiraling, knowing Sabrina was waiting for me down the hall. I needed grounding. I needed something familiar.
But I barely took a step before a man moved into my path.
“Miss Thumper?”
His voice was calm. Professional. Too controlled.
I looked up just as Sabrina came into view behind him.
“Yes?” I answered quickly. “Who are you?”
He handed me a slim folder without ceremony.
“These are for you. From my employer. We hope to hear from you soon, Miss.”
Before I could ask anything—anything at all—he turned and walked away, his footsteps already fading like this was just another errand on his list.
I stared down at the folder, my hands trembling.
Sabrina reached my side immediately.
“Who was that?” she asked, worry clear in her voice. “Is everything alright?”
I forced a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes.
“I… I don’t really know,” I admitted softly. “But I think I’m okay.”
I didn’t open the folder.
I wasn’t ready to see what else he thought he could give me.
I looked at Sabrina and tried to anchor myself.
“Are we heading to Dominic’s now?”
She studied my face for a second longer—then nodded.
“Yes. Let’s go.”
And as we walked away, the weight in my small chest didn’t ease.
Because someone I didn’t understand had just rewritten my life with money.
And nothing given that easily ever comes without a price.
Returning to the apartment complex, the car didn’t stop there.
Instead, it rolled past it — slow, deliberate — and pulled into the driveway of the house right beside it. Calling it a house felt wrong the second I saw it. It wasn’t a house.
It was a mansion.
Tall. Immaculate. Solid in a way my life had never been. Every window glowed softly, like warmth was a guarantee here, not something you had to earn. The stone beneath the lights looked untouched by weather or desperation — like nothing bad was allowed to happen inside those walls.
My chest tightened.
Beside Dominic’s home were others just like it. His parents lived next door. His best friend lived on the other side — with his wife, with children whose laughter I could hear even before we stepped out of the car. Families. Stability. Roots.
I didn’t belong here.
People waved when Dominic stepped out. Neighbors smiled, greeted him by name, stopped to ask how he was doing — like he was a constant, like he was someone the world had agreed was safe to exist around.
And then there was me.
The woman who used to sleep in a tent.
The woman who washed her clothes in a lake.
The woman whose debts were paid by a stranger she didn’t understand, whose life was being rearranged by men with power while she stood still, watching it happen.
I’ve been living in one of Dominic’s spare rooms for two weeks now.
Two weeks of clean sheets that still feel foreign against my skin.
Two weeks of hot showers that leave me standing there too long because part of me doesn’t trust they won’t shut off.
Two weeks of meals I didn’t earn and space I didn’t deserve.
Every night I lie in that bed and stare at the ceiling, feeling smaller than I ever did under the trees. Because at least in the woods, I knew why I was alone.
Here, I’m surrounded by kindness I didn’t ask for and security I can’t repay.
And the depression doesn’t lift — it sinks deeper.
It whispers that I’m temporary.
That this isn’t mine.
That one mistake will send me right back to where I started.
Everyone here knows Dominic.
But no one knows how badly I’m afraid…
that once they truly see me,
they won’t want to anymore.
The moment I stepped inside Dominic’s house, the smell hit me first.
Steak.
Rich. Savory. Warm.
Something else too — herbs, maybe butter, something slow-cooked and intentional. The kind of food made because someone expects to be home. The kind of meal you don’t rush.
Before I could even fully cross the threshold, Sabrina’s cheerful voice chimed behind me.
“I’ve returned your roommate, Dom,” she said brightly. “I’d love to stay for dinner, but I have another meeting. I’ll see you soon, my friend!”
She turned to me and wrapped me in a quick, warm hug — the kind that made me stiff for half a second before I remembered how to accept it.
“Take care of yourself,” she said proudly. “And remember — Dom is a wonderful friend. He may look like a bad guy, but he’s anything but.”
Her words rubbed the wrong way almost instantly.
If he was so wonderful… why did he live alone in a place like this?
The irritation bubbled up before I could stop it, sharp and sudden — probably fueled by exhaustion, depression, and the fact that nothing in my life made sense anymore.
I blurted it out before she reached the door.
“Then why is he single?”
She paused.
I swallowed, heat creeping up my neck. “I don’t mean to be rude. I’m just… curious. I live here, and I’ve never seen another woman come out of his bedroom.”
Sabrina’s lips curved slowly.
“Oh?” she said lightly. “So you’ve been paying attention to his bedroom.”
My face burned.
She chuckled, rubbing the bridge of her nose as if amused by her own observation. “No, Dom doesn’t have a girlfriend because he’s never had the time to look for a woman he actually sees a future with.”
She shrugged, already opening the door.
“But I think that’s going to change soon,” she added casually. “He’s never invested this much in one woman since we met as teenagers.”
The words hit harder than they should have.
“Anyway,” she said, stepping outside, “I’ll let myself out. Enjoy the rest of your day — and congratulations on your divorce, Thumper.”
The door closed behind her.
And I just stood there.
Awkward. Unmoored. Unsure what to do with the weight she’d left behind.
Should I even care?
I had just been asked out by a man with money and power I didn’t understand — a man I think was the one who paid my debts without even knowing me. I didn’t know who he was or what he wanted, and that alone terrified me.
Dominic, on the other hand…
He had been steady. Present. Unasked-for help offered without expectation. And in two weeks — two full weeks — he hadn’t made a single move on me. Not once.
No lingering touches.
No pressure.
No demands.
I pressed my lips together, clutching the folder in my hands, and decided to put it away before I overthought myself into another spiral. I changed into my light brown cardigan — the air conditioning always felt too cold in a place this big — then stepped back into the hall and headed toward the kitchen on the first floor.
I expected to see Dominic’s mother there.
Instead, I stopped short.
Dominic stood by the stove — relaxed, sleeves rolled slightly — something simmering quietly in a pan. But what caught me wasn’t the food.
It was the book in his hand.
A dark romance novel.
Thick spine. Worn pages. A bookmark tucked halfway through like he’d been there before.
The sight of it hit me sideways.
Strong. Controlled. Quietly dangerous-looking…
Reading that.
My chest tightened in a way I didn’t have words for.
When he noticed me, his expression softened instantly. He smiled — easy, genuine — like seeing me was the best part of his day.
“Congratulations on your divorce,” he said warmly. “I heard the news and figured you should celebrate your freedom with a good steak dinner.”
I stared at him, stunned, then finally took a seat on one of the stools by the small kitchen island — the cream counters reflecting the soft red accents of the room.
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “I even had some guy pay off all my debt. I don’t even know who he is. But I guess you have a lot of friends who owe you favors.”
The smile vanished.
Dominic stiffened almost imperceptibly. He placed a bookmark in the book, set it aside carefully, and turned fully toward me — alarm flickering across his face.
“I didn’t know anyone paid your debts,” he said firmly. “And if someone did, I need to find out why. I didn’t ask anyone to do that for you, Thumper.”
The pit in my stomach dropped.
Cold understanding crept in.
If it wasn’t someone connected to Dominic…
Then who was it?
And why did it feel like my life was slipping out of my hands again — this time dressed up as kindness?
- Writer
