“Did you know?” she asked in the silence, her voice soft and needy.
“Did I know what?”
She regarded him with dark blue eyes that appeared far too lucid considering the nearly empty bottle of wine on the coffee table. “Please don’t treat me like I’m stupid.”
“Then I would suggest you stop asking stupid questions,” he supplied coolly, not at all in the mood to deal with another one of Bruce’s fuck-ups. “Why am I here?” And more pressingly where the hell was Bruce? This was his responsibility. He had assured Dominic he would take care of the matter, yet it appeared said matter was still very much unhandled. “Where is Bruce?”
“Do you know what I always wondered?” she went on with complete disregard to his questions. She raised her glass to her mouth and peered at him over the rim. “Do you hand select them for him and have them delivered to his hotel room? I know you’re his puppet master, but are his pimp, too?”
“Cassie,” Bruce took that exact moment to appear from where, Dominic hadn’t the slightest, but his disheveled appearance was indication enough. Dominic suppressed a groan. It was as though the other man wanted to get caught. He watched as Bruce quickly assessed the situation, his gaze flying first from his wife to Dominic and back again. With the tension in the room thick enough to choke, dawning swept over his features and a fine sheen of sweat formed on his skin. “Cass…” he took two steps towards her but stopped instantly as he saw her arm rear back and hurl the glass at him. Bruce managed to duck, but just barely, as some of the wine splashed him but the glass luckily shattered against the floor, missing its intended mark.
Shaken but undoubtedly okay, Bruce found his footing once more and raised his hands up in surrender to the seething woman across from him. “Cass, I need you to listen to me—”
But she flew at him before he could finish, her weight alone paled in comparison to Bruce’s substantial size, but her anger combined with her fists, kicks, and sharp fingernails went a long way in doing some damage. She was like a banshee and bearing witness to this scene, Dominic was at advantage to pry her off Bruce, but some twisted part of him delighted in his friend’s temporary agony. It was almost worth the migraine. He stood on the sidelines for another minute or so before finally intervening. She was a snarling thing, fiercer than a poodle but Dominic managed to subdue her without much effort, grabbing her by the waist and hauling her off Bruce. “Enough,” he said with brevity when she made to lunge for Bruce again. “Get a hold of yourself.” Holding her arms at her side, she was forced to look up at him, and the scowl on her face indicated her displeasure at doing so.
“Let go of me.” Despite her harsh breaths, the gravity of her tone had Dominic relinquishing his grasp, but he prudently remained close.
Bruce looked worse for wear, through the countless scratch marks on his face and neck, there was a genuine look of remorse on his face as he looked at his wife. Oblivious to the possible dangers he faced as he came around to Dominic’s side and approached her, he stopped just in front of her, raising his hands once again. “Cassie, baby, please—”
“I’m done,” she whispered on a shuddering breath, tears welling in her blue eyes. “It hurts too much to have you treat me this way. I don’t care about this marriage. I don’t care what happens to me, but I want out.”
“Do you care about what happens to your children?” Dominic intruded, keeping his tone light enough, but the menacing undertone was not lost on the other two occupants of the room, Bruce especially.
He turned a sharp eye to Dominic and shook his head. “I can handle this,” he said resolutely, forcing Dominic to back off. “Cassie, please listen to me, please. I…I have a problem, okay, and I promise, baby, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this better.” Voice tinged with a crazed desperation Dominic had never heard in his friend, he watched the play of emotions on his face, all in the neighborhood of pure despair. “I’ll get help, Cass, I promise. I’ll take a break from it all, resign from office if I have to, just please don’t leave. I need you too damn much.”
It was a surreal moment for Dominic. Awkward on so many levels but no less surreal, yet somehow he understood how crucial this moment was for Bruce. He knew he needed to leave them, but something compelled him to stay. As he watched Bruce take a tentative step towards a stagnant Cassie, she did not recoil when he reached for her.
“Damn you,” she muttered. It was only when she moved into Bruce’s embrace that Dominic finally forced himself to leave.
It was with the strangest feeling lying heavy on his chest that Dominic continued his journey home. His migraine had abated and was bearable now, but as he reclined his head back against the leather seat, he could still feel the echoing thud at the back of his skull. Somewhere between introspection and sleep, his thoughts inevitably touched the dire state of his own marriage. After witnessing the display with Bruce and Cassie, he wasn’t fool enough to believe that his and Eden’s problems could easily be rectified. Bruce had a sex addiction; Dominic’s issues…well his issues were much more inexact and Eden would not forgive so easily. For a moment he imagined what it would be like if he revealed it all to her, told her of the innate darkness that laid in him that compelled his own mother to treat him with such cruelty. He imagined telling her of the fear, the pain, and the debilitating humiliation of pissing himself just because he’d been too much of a coward to face the darkness like she should’ve. Even still Dominic imagined telling her about the consuming rage and the hatred for everything around him that had wrapped around his bones like another layer of flesh. His mind, however, instantly rebelled, showing Dominic how quickly she would reject him, how disgusted and indifferent she would be if he dared to expose his demons to her. And who could blame her after all he’d done to her?
It would be over in a few short months; she would leave him, and the desolate part was that he had no clue where to begin to rectify his wrongs.
Eden didn’t know why she found his spending time with Liam so disheartening, but the more she found her child growing attached, the more morose she became. Liam had only ever had her to rely on. She was the only parent he knew. The thought that she may very well have to share custody made her uneasy. Three more months and she would be free of him. Divorced, finally without contest. But he would not allow her to take Liam; she’d known this tentative truth since the beginning and now the reality of it was filtering into her delusion. The more time he spent with Liam, the closer they became, forming a father and son bond that far eclipsed any sort of connections she’d ever made with Dominic. Liam’s laughter and squeals had Eden raising her head and glancing just to the side of her to find a sight that further added to her discomfort. It seemed nearly incomprehensible to find business mogul Dominic Armstrong lying on a carpeted floor with a toothless infant pinning him down and if Eden hadn’t seen this for herself, she wouldn’t have believed it.
From her vantage point across the way, she watched them play, when Dominic jerked his body up, raising both his chest and Liam in unison, it provoked the infant’s infectious laughter. On and on it went, every giggle tugging Dominic’s lips into an imperceptible smile that Eden would’ve missed if she wasn’t looking as hard as she was. It was the most perplexing thing, seeing this change in him. They were subtle, the changes that she saw, but no less disconcerting. It was such an opposing image of what Eden was accustomed to from him.
He appeared so relaxed, the naked joy peeking through the austerity was something to behold. He was gentle and attentive, and though sweet wasn’t a word Eden would have ever attributed to Dominic, he accomplished it with Liam. He was sweet and tender when he needed to be, mindful of his son’s infancy but handling Liam with a sturdy hand of a father who wanted to test the limits of his son. He wore fatherly pride like armor; Liam’s accomplishments, laughter and cries, the helmet that he poised on his head. It was with a heavy heart that Eden silently acknowledged to herself that fatherhood looked good on him. He may have been a shit husband, but at least he made efforts to be a good father. It was what Liam deserved. Their son hadn’t asked to be born at the center of their mess, and Eden would be damned if she allowed him to end up there. Her issues with Dominic were her issues with Dominic, not her child’s. Liam deserved love and devotion from them both and if Dominic found that he could provide it, then who was she to stand in the way? What it all came down to was Eden’s own unshakable fear that Dominic would disappoint and hurt Liam in the long run. Like he’d disappointed her.
When she heard the deep, throaty sound of his laughter—laughter that wasn’t steeped with derision or contempt—her heart lurched, twisting painfully in her chest, driving in the fact that he’d never allowed her close enough to elicit such a sound. Putting in much more effort than necessary in folding Liam’s laundered clothes, she did not want to put too much thought on that subject. It didn’t matter now anyway. Their marriage had started off corrupted and had only grown worse in the ensuing years, the decaying layers of lies, distrust, humiliation, animosity and resentment had poisoned the very foundation of their union , making it impossible for anything else to flourish there. The only undeniable truth between them was the uncontainable lust that drew them together with such cataclysmic force that it nearly always maimed her not to be touched by him. But what was lust without love? What was soul searing, body melting sex without the enduring love to sustain it? Building a life on solely money and sex had been their downfall. It was better that it ended now; they needed to cut ties and walk away, it was the only decent thing they could do for each other.