Back Home
1204 Words
The kiss was hard and short, once they broke it, Elena was too embarrassed to look up, all eyes had turned on them in the bar, some judging, some in mockery. She managed to take a glance at her partner's face and was surprised by what she saw in it. She could not put a name to his expression, he looked more shocked than she was for whatever reasons best known to him.
He held out his hand and they got out of the bar as fast as their legs could carry them and once outside, Dominic offered to take her to his abode which was met with zero objection.
The ride to his place was quiet, at some point he assumed she was asleep and called out to her, “Hey are you asleep?”
She shook her head not trusting her voice
“Do you want some music?” He asked searching her face
“No I’d like fresh air” She muttered and that was it
She did not speak, she became lost in thought
Her life was a mess but here she was, in the backseat of a stranger’s car, trying to swallow her shame before it formed into a lump in her throat.
Dominic finally pulled up to an old building in Midtown, clean but unforgettable, it stood out in the area and it looked safe.
He spoke first.
“You sure about this?”
She looked up at him, at that same furrow in his brow. That same gentleness that his behind the sternness of his voice.
“No,” she whispered. “But I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
He nodded, jaw tightening, but didn’t press further.
His apartment was minimalist. Clean lines, dark colors, a lived-in silence that felt almost sacred.
There were no pictures. No personal clutter. Just books and a whiskey bottle on the counter, half-empty.
He tossed his jacket over a chair and walked into the kitchen without a word.
“You want water?” he asked, already reaching for a glass
“Whiskey,” she replied, shrugging off her shoulder.
“You’ve had enough.”
“I didn’t ask for advice.”
Dominic turned, watching her, then slowly nodded and poured a single shot. He handed it to her, their fingers brushing again.
A current. Again.
She downed it in one swallow and let it burn down her throat.
Then, she looked at him.
“Do you always play savior at bars like you did tonight?" she asked.
“No.” He replied almost immediately
“So why tonight?”
He hesitated. “You looked like you were about to drown, And I particularly do not like the sight of grimy looking guys”
Elena laughed bitterly. “Too late. I drowned earlier”
She stepped closer, heart racing. “But thanks for fishing out the corpse.”
“Elena…”
“Don’t say it,” she whispered getting close and putting her hand on his chest. “Don’t make this noble.”
Dominic’s hands clenched at his sides. “You’re not thinking straight. You’ll regret this.”
She looked up at him, eyes raw. “Good. I’d like to regret something I chose for once.”
He stared at her for a long time. His indecision evident his eyes. And then finally, as if something inside him snapped, he stepped forward and kissed her.
This time it wasn’t desperate.
It was slow. Deliberate. A storm meeting another storm, knowing full well it would destroy everything in its path.
Clothes hit the floor one after the other, Her dress slid off her shoulders as his lips left trails of fire down her skin. His touch was both careful and commanding, like he was trying to memorize her even as he tried to forget himself.
They didn’t speak. Not once. Just gasps, and moans, and broken pieces of two damaged people trying to find something to hold onto, even if just for a night.
And when it was over, Elena lay curled on his chest, listening to his heartbeat like it might tether her to something real.
But morning came too soon and reality with it.
The sun pierced through the blinds far too brightly for the way her head pounded. She sat up slowly, pulling the sheet around her body as if shame could be covered.
Dominic was still asleep. Shirtless. Quiet.
And God… he looked human now. Vulnerable. Like the storm from last night had left him too.
Her eyes lingered on him. The strong line of his jaw. The scar on his ribcage. The way his fingers twitched slightly in his sleep.
He’d been kind. Patient.
And she felt like she had used him.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Her throat closed up as she quietly slid out of bed, gathering her clothes. She didn’t look back. Couldn’t.
She slipped out of the apartment like a thief in the night
She managed to find her way out,
Her feet carried her across the city without thought.
Her soaked heels were gone. Her dress, wrinkled. Hair a mess. People stared.
Let them.
The gates of the De Luca estate loomed like an old ghost as she reached them.
Home.
She stood in front of the place she once called home before she'd burned every bridge behind her.
The guard blinked when he saw her. “Miss Elena?”
He was cautious and looked as though he has seen a ghost
She didn’t speak. Just nodded.
He let her in.
Her father was in the sitting room. Reading. As if no time had passed. As if she hadn’t broken every rule of the empire when she’d left.
Giovanni De Luca looked up.
His face barely changed, save the slight narrowing of his eyes. “You look like hell.”
“Good morning to you too, Padre, she called in the find way she used too in the past,” she said, voice cracked.
He didn’t move. “I see the boy wasn’t worth it.”
He said like knew
She didn’t answer, more like she could not.
Instead, she stepped forward and dropped her purse on the floor. “I have nowhere else to go.”
A beat of silence.
“I see.” The De Luca’s Empire is no dumping ground for prodigals
She looked down
“If you let me come back…” she said, barely holding herself together, “I’ll do whatever you ask. I’ll follow your rules. Just let me come home.”
Her father studied her for a long, cold moment.
Then he nodded once.
“You’ll marry who I say. Go where I say. And you’ll forget the fantasy of love.”
Her voice broke. “I’ll do it.” and she stared by stubbornly
He stood, walked past her, and paused.
“You’ve always been strong, Elena. But even strong people get lost.” He glanced at her then, for just a second, something like concern behind the iron in his eyes. “Next time, don’t run to the wolves.”
She didn’t reply.
Because she already had.
And part of her wasn’t sure she wanted to come back from it.
- Writer
