❧ AFTERGLOW - TAYLOR SWIFT ☙
"tell me that we'll be just fine."
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This was my first birthday without hearing from either of my parents. I half expected a call from my mother, but as the minutes without a word went by in the morning, I had started to let go of that hope.
The two of us had always been close during my childhood, even in my teenage years too. As soon a I started to notice her and my father's marriage start to drift, she seemed to have started to pay even more attention to me. Though I never knew the answer for why their marriage had gone to rust until late, she always insisted that it had nothing to do with me.
It was a shame that it had almost every bit to do with me.
My father's negligence for me on today's date didn't surprise me one bit, which should have disappointed me, but it didn't; I didn't expect anything less. It was my mother's lack to communicate with me that struck way too fucking deep. But maybe I wasn't empathizing enough, and maybe there were other complications that I didn't know of.
Speaking of complications, I hadn't heard Dominic's voice in about a week, which was more unsettling than it should have been. He told me that he'd be gone to Italy for about a week, and would return tomorrow morning. Over his time away, he never called. He texted me every two hours for regular check ins, on the dot, but never called.
The information that I gave him was very brief, since I didn't have a lot to do in my day. I found myself on the balcony a lot as I tried to get some fresh air, though I was lucky enough to have gotten a couple of visits from Lena, and surprisingly, we had found a shared interest in baking. We both sucked miserably at it, but it was fun. Living alone in one of the biggest houses in the state teaches you how to cure your boredom, I guess.
Dominic and I still hadn't made up though, which made my days feel a little longer than they should have. We both said things that we didn't mean, and we were both tired and overwhelmed— maybe the space between us was for the best, for now.
I knew that I overreacted, a bit— okay, maybe a lot. But I was on my period, and tired of all of the shit that I'd have to put up with. I guess I kind of took out my anger on Dominic. I knew that he was trying really hard to make me feel at home, but honestly, the past few months had been a lot to process to begin with. I think I just needed the time.
I abruptly sat up from my bed when I thought I heard footsteps downstairs. It was a very quiet sound, and I was surprised that I could even hear it to begin with. No one else was supposed to come inside of the house; not that I was aware of.
My heartbeat jumped in and out of my body as I exited my room, and I found myself in this position often— scared of someone breaking in, but usually everything turned out to be fine. Dominic's security in his house was too advanced for something like that to happen. I didn't have to worry anymore, right?
Then the deep and familiar voice eased all of the panicked thoughts running laps in my head. "Do you have any idea what the date is today, Mr. Delhencia?" Dominic's voice echoed through his office door.
Why was he calling my father? Why was he here? He wasn't supposed to be back until tomorrow, it was what he told me.
I kept my back to the wall and slowly stepped down the stairs, my hands gliding down the railing, careful not to make a sound. I couldn't hear the other ended of the line, but I could only assume that my father had answered with some stupid response. "Your daughter has been expecting your call," Dominic mentioned.
I heard a quiet and muffled sentence from my father, but couldn't make out the exact words. Something about being busy, I think.
Dominic scoffed and half laughed at the same time. ""Get on the phone with your daughter, and wish her a happy goddamn birthday." And then there was a long pause before he spoke again. "Because if she is able to shed a single tear in the time that it takes for you to call her, I will not hesitate to take everything from you," he emphasized, sparing no empathy. "Your reputation, your firm, your salary; all on the line." The words seemed to linger in the room, painting a vivid picture of the high stakes. Then he hung up.
All of that threatening for a simple call?
After eavesdropping like that, I was left with thousands of questions. Had Dominic really gone to Italy, or was he just hiding away in the city to get away from me? Why had he made the call with my father so secretive? What was going on?
I could hear the ringtone of my phone all the way from upstairs, and as much as I wanted to confront Dominic, maybe it was best that he didn't know I had overheard him and that conversation.
Quickly, I rushed up to my room, and sure enough, my father's contact was the one on the lock screen on my phone. With the press of the button, I answered. "Hi, dad."
"Good afternoon, dear."
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We ignited a conversation, discussing my birthday and I had even received a few apologies. They were very blunt and emotionless, but at least he tried. As well as on the topic of my birthday, he had explained to me how my gift was still in the mail. Yet, even as we spoke, my mind couldn't help but drift back to Dominic and the motives behind his actions.
Once done with my father's call, I returned downstairs to try to find Dominic, but as I peaked through the office door, he was gone— though there was no absence in the kitchen. Unlike before, the counters were now a breathtaking sight, adorned with a display of gifts and a large bouquet of roses.
Holy shit.
The fragrance of fresh roses permeated the air as I approached the sight. Gifts of various sizes and shapes were meticulously arranged on the counters, their wrapping papers and ribbons creating a visual feast. There were elegant boxes, each tied with intricate bows, and handwritten cards peeking out from beneath each one.
My hand cupped over my mouth in shock, my jaw dropped down to the floor.
With my fingertips tapping against the counters, my eyes continued to scan the scene before me, and I struggled to grasp the fact that Dominic had done this for me. I found myself counting all of the flowers that were laid perfectly as a bouquet along to kitchen's surface, and I pulled one of the letters that was hidden in between petals.
"Happy twenty first, -D.D"
Twenty-one roses. My favourites— but I don't even remember ever telling him that. And these weren't just any roses, they were Red Naomi Italian roses. I wasn't the most educated on the topic of flowers, but I knew these ones well.
These flowers were known for their rich and red colour, and outstanding longevity. Their petals were fuller than most, with a velvety texture that begged to be touched; I knew all of this because they were the same kinds of roses that my father would gift to my mother before everything between them went down. He would have them specially shipped from Italy itself, and they were able to last a good two weeks before they dried out; making the expensive cost of them worth it.
The boxes beside them ranged from brands like Cartier, Van Cleef, Dior— all expensive as hell too. Jesus Christ, how much did he spend?
I wasn't sure if I was supposed to wait for Dominic to come home until I opened up the presents, but I wasn't even sure when he would get home. Plus, I think he'd want me to open them now, he knew I wasn't a fan of being studied.
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The last box that I opened was the Van Cleef one. I'd been opening gifts for a solid thirty minutes now, and it was like they never ended. Regardless of their expenses, they were all so thoughtful. Most of the more sentimental ones were from Dominic, since he knew me the best, but I had also received a generous portion from his family; Lena, Celeste, even Antonio.
My mind wondered what Dominic thought about that.
I drowned in the sight of the exquisitely beautiful Van Cleef set that lay before me, the anticipation building as I carefully unraveled the delicate tissue paper. Inside, nestled in the soft folds of tissue, were three different bracelets, a necklace, and a pair of earrings, each a unique work of art.
The first bracelet, a dainty gold chain with a few scattered red gemstones, was the epitome of elegance. The second bracelet was a masterpiece in itself, an elegantly cut tennis bracelet surrounded with glistening gemstones. Each stone sparkled brilliantly, catching the light in a mesmerizing dance of colors. The third bracelet bore the signature Van Cleef & Arpels pattern of sparkling champagne gold clovers. It added a touch of whimsy and charm to the set.
The necklace, though not as long as some, was a captivating centerpiece. It featured a gold chain that held the same shade of a deep red clover pendant, a rich and alluring contrast to the surrounding gold. The earrings were a slightly different design than the necklace, but still paired together perfectly.
I hadn't even noticed that Dominic knew I liked this kind of stuff; the timelessness of simple jewelry. He knew my style better than I did at this point. Then suddenly, a wave of guilt washed over me, and I felt like I didn't deserve this. I had been such a bitch to him down in the basement— the way I completely disregarded his statement.
"I want to be yours, willingly."
Fuck, how did I just brush that off? That might've just been the most vulnerable thing that he had ever said to me, and I ignored it in attempt to push him away. Yet, as I found his words ricocheting off the structure of my mind, I didn't quite know what they meant. Did he want a relationship? Is that what he meant by that?
Speaking of the devil, he himself had just entered the garage. The familiar sound of his Mercedes confirmed that. With an unusually fast pace, I stood up from the stool at the kitchen and made my way towards the front entrance.
Just as I took my last step towards the door, it swung open, revealing a stunned Dominic with a black Ramowa suitcase in his hand. "Hi," I greeted quickly, taking one small step back to give him more space.
He set the luggage down carefully as he examined me with a concerned look. "Greeting me at the door now, Red?"
"I thought you weren't supposed to come back until tomorrow."
He shrugged, both of his shoulders raising. "What kind of man would that make me if I missed my wife's birthday?"
Without hesitation, I wrapped both of my arms around his neck, my fingertips lightly grazing the collar of his shirt. With a gentle but heartfelt pull, I brought him close, our bodies pressed together. The scent of his cologne, a subtle yet distinct blend of musk and earthy notes, enveloped me. I buried my face in the curve of his neck, and mumbled a quiet, "Thank you."
Dominic's reaction was an intense moment frozen in time. His muscles, which had been relaxed a moment ago, now contracted, and he hesitantly encircled my waist. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," I repeated, over and over again, louder this time.
"Happy birthday, sweetheart," he whispered, his words tender and filled with affection. He gazed at me with a depth of emotion that words couldn't fully convey as I pulled away.
But then he added, "I have one more thing."
I playfully quipped, "Right, because the thousands of dollars worth of gifts from you wasn't already enough?" My tone was teasing, but it held an undertone of genuine surprise at the lavish gifts he had already given me. It was definitely more than I deserved.
He smiled, and his eyes conveyed a touch of sincerity. "This is partly an apology gift as well." He handed me small and thin white box, tied together with a dark red ribbon.
"Oh, please," I replied, my voice softening. "You were forgiven as soon as I saw the flowers. I was overreacting to begin with—"
"Just take it."
And so I did. I took the small box in my hands, and it was practically weightless, adding an element of intrigue to the moment. My fingertips deftly undid the ribbon, the delicate material sliding away to reveal the box. With a sense of curiosity, I gently lifted the lid, revealing a single key nestled inside.
"For what?" I inquired, confusion lacing my words.
He leaned closer, urging me, "Look closely."
My eyes fixated on the key, and then I noticed it– a small detailed sparrow keychain attached to the silver key. It was a very tiny and dainty piece, adorned with a small red ruby at its center, catching the light and glistening.
A Sparrow.
"Dominic," I said, tilting my head. "What did you do?"
"I heard somewhere that they were closing soon, so I fixed that."
My disbelief evident in my wide-eyed expression and slightly dropped jaw. "You own that coffee shop now?"
"You do, actually," he confirmed, his tone carrying a touch of amusement. "It was purchased under your name. You own it, along with the rest of the block," he explained, dropping a bombshell that left me astonished.
"The whole block?"
"Yes," he confirmed as if it were no big deal. "I've updated the security throughout the street, so you can walk along there whenever you'd like without feeling threatened. There's a— a library, a couple of clothing stores, a flower shop, I think, a restaurant too," he stammered. "You also have a personal driver now, his name.. fuck, I don't remember. But he'll drive you wherever you want to go whenever I can't."
I had to pinch the skin of my arm, because I was almost positive that I was dreaming, and that wasn't even the end of it.
"I'm sorry that I haven't been understanding of you and your position, and I promise you, I never meant to make you feel caged in here, or invalidate your feelings," he admitted. "I respect you, and I value you, and I just want you to be happy... as happy as you can be under the circumstances."
As I stared at him in utter disbelief, his apology and grand gestures only intensified the complexity of my emotions, leaving me torn between skepticism and the possibility that maybe, just maybe, that this could happen.
"I'm sorry, Red," he said again.
Maybe our differences didn't really matter, and all that really did was that we could actually communicate with each other. This could be fine— we could be just fine.
I took the deepest breath and wrapped my arms around him for the second time. "I'm sorry too," I muttered against him, "for pushing you away. I just got scared."
Despite the initial reluctance in his movement, the contact provided me with a profound sense of relief. "I know," he told me back. His hand set on the curve of my waist, and cupped the back of my head, and I stood there on my tallest tiptoes, my heels inches from touching the ground, hugging him.
Out of everyone that I had known, Dominic was one of the most stubborn people that I had ever met. He held his ground well when he wanted to, and I knew that getting personal to the point where apologies were needed was hard for him— but still, he did it.
When I finally pulled away, he seemed to have eased up a little bit more. "I've made a dinner reservation for tonight, if you'd like."
My answer was almost immediate. "I would love that."
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they're such cutie patooties omds
↳ (i miss writing smut)
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