I barely processed the shock of Dom at my door before the sight of him hit me harder.
He looked wrecked. Like a skyscraper hit by a wrecking ball but somehow still standing. His dark eyes met mine, heavy with something I couldn’t place. I stepped aside without a word, my throat tight. “Everything okay?”
His shoulders sagged, just a little. “I… needed to see you. And them.”
The words pierced straight through me. I should have asked more—what happened, why now—but he looked battle-worn.
“Come on,” I murmured, softer now. “I was just about to start bedtime.”
His gaze flicked to the bassinets, where Marissa and Summer were stirring, as if they sensed a new presence. The lines of stress on Dom’s face eased minutely, and he nodded. “I’d like that.”
We worked together in a quiet, unspoken rhythm. Marissa fussed first, so I scooped her up while Dom tended to Summer.
We got them into their sleep sacks—those soft, zippered cocoons that made them look like swaddled little peanuts—and Dom’s fingertips brushed mine as we adjusted the fabric around Marissa’s tiny arms.
“She trusts you,” he murmured, watching me closely.
“She trusts us,” I corrected softly.
Dom’s smile was fleeting but warm, his dark eyes flickering between me and Summer as he lifted her gently into the crook of his arm.
We fed them side by side on the nursery floor, bottles balanced in our hands, the glow from the dim lamp casting soft shadows. Summer’s tiny fingers latched around Dom’s thumb while Marissa blinked up at me, half-asleep, her lashes fanned against flushed cheeks.
Dom let out a quiet laugh under his breath as Summer gave a little sigh of contentment, milk-drunk and blissful.
The air between us was heavy but tender. Like somehow, without saying it, we both knew this was the most natural thing in the world.
Once their bottles were empty, we moved in sync, easing them into their cribs. Summer’s fingers clung to Dom’s shirt until the last second, and Marissa let out one last soft sigh before curling into herself like a sleepy kitten.
Dom and I stood side by side for a moment, just watching them settle.
He chuckled quietly. “Guess we did a good job.”
For a second, we just stood there in the soft hush of the nursery, neither of us moving, both of us reluctant to disturb the peace. The girls slept soundly, their tiny chests rising and falling in perfect rhythm, their faces bathed in the soft glow from the nightlight.
I looked over to see Dom lingering, his hand hovering protectively near Marissa’s cheek. The expression on his face—torn, relieved, grateful, so deeply in love with his girls—hit me with a force I hadn’t expected.
“Thank you,” he whispered, so quietly I almost didn’t hear.
“For what?”
He swallowed, his dark eyes meeting mine. “Letting me invade your home. For tonight. For this.” He nodded to the girls.
The knot in my throat tightened. I wanted to say, you’re their father, of course you belong here. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I just nodded and placed a light hand on his arm. “Let’s have some tea.”
He wordlessly nodded and followed me to the kitchen, where I made tea in silence, wondering what was on his mind. In the living room, I nearly asked about his day again, but Dom spoke first, voice low and haunted.
“Work was…bad. There was a case in the ED. A patient nearly bled out because—someone else made the wrong call. I was this close to watching him die on my table.”
He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the small space. My heart twisted at the frustration etched into every line of his posture.
“I couldn’t stop thinking—why am I doing this? Putting myself through the chaos and risking people’s lives, when all I really want is to be here, with—” He glanced at me, eyes flicking to the bassinets in the other room. “With them. And you.”
A lump rose in my throat, and my chest felt too tight. His honesty made me ache. This was a man who took pride in being calm, collected, in control. Yet here he was, spilling raw vulnerability.
“They’re why you do it,” I said softly. “So you can give them the best, right?”
He exhaled, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “That’s what I’ve always told myself. That it’s all for my family. But…I’m not sure anymore.”
We sat there in silence for a beat, the hum of the city outside the only noise. Then, as if drawn by some magnetic force, we both closed the distance. My hand found his chest, the steady hammer of his heart racing under my palm.
In that moment, it struck me that this—this—was more intimate than anything we’d done on that tropical island. We were in my cramped apartment, with newborns asleep in the next room, and I felt closer to Dom than I ever had to anyone.
He looked down at me, shadows playing across his face. “Ella…”
I rose up, and he met me halfway, our lips colliding in a kiss that felt like a quiet exhale after too much tension. The taste of him washed away the longing of the day. I slid my arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.
We broke apart, breath mingling in the hush.
His voice was a low rumble. “I want you so bad. But, Ella, if this is too much for you, or too soon—”
But I shook my head. “It’s not.”
“Are you sure?” he murmured.
The answer lodged in my chest was a resounding yes. I’d spent so long battling my own fears, secrets, and insecurities. But right now, seeing his pain and knowing he had come here for solace, it made me feel so much more important to him than just some girl he happened to impregnate. It made me feel like I wasn’t the biggest mistake of his life, I was someone he counted on, and more than any of that, I wanted him.
“I’m sure,” I whispered, taking his hand and leading him to my bedroom.
In this space, everything felt different. With the girls quietly sleeping in the nursery, Dom and I sank onto the bed, hearts pounding. His mouth covered mine again, the kiss deeper, more urgent. I gasped at the contact, my body remembering that electric connection we’d shared on the island.
Clothes found their way to the floor, and he trailed kisses along my throat, making my breath catch. A moment later, his hand skimmed my waist. I tugged him closer, reveling in the press of his body.
Every sense seemed heightened—the muffled hum of traffic through the window, the rasp of his breath as he whispered my name. Each second bound me tighter to this man I barely understood, yet needed more than I’d ever admit out loud.
When he entered me, the sensation tore a gasp from my lips. It wasn’t the frantic, reckless desire of that first time on the island. This was something deeper—an undercurrent of shared vulnerabilities, new parenthood, and raw need. Our bodies moved in a rhythm that felt almost like inevitability, a dance we’d started months ago and were only just now finishing.
My fingers dug into his back, and his forehead dropped to my shoulder, stifling a groan. I cradled the back of his head, pressing him against me there to hold him close. Despite everything—my secrets, his conflicts—I felt safe. This felt right, as though it was exactly where we belonged. In this moment, we were just two people clinging to each other against the chaos outside.
He kissed my collarbone and moved down further until he slid out of me. He nibbled his way over my chest, my boobs, my ribs and stomach, until he reached his destination.
When he spread me wide, I gasped from the sheer overwhelming sensation, and from the first press of his mouth against me, I bucked and gasped, digging my fingers into his silvery hair. My core tightened and pulsed, stealing my breath. He devoured me until I burst on his tongue.
The moment he knew I was done, he rolled me over and pressed in from behind slowly as he planted lazy kisses and bites on my shoulders and neck. His groans filled my ears, and I memorized each one.
His cock dug against the right spot again and again, making me shake like a leaf. I felt his whole body go rigid, even as he worked through me. He murmured, “That’s it, baby, just like that.”
My voice went weak. “I’m gonna—”
“With me.”
We cried out together, hands pawing, teeth gnashing, curses peppering the air. When the wave finally subsided, I nestled against his chest, feeling his heart thud against my cheek. We lay there in the dim light, the only sound our uneven breathing. My eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion mingling with a fragile kind of joy.
He brushed a kiss across my temple, and I breathed in the scent of him, a mix of hospital antiseptic and the raw sweat of our intimacy. I told myself I’d only rest for a minute, but as my mind drifted, one final thought tugged at me:
How long can this last before everything comes crashing down?
