Chapter 83 Eighty Three
The next morning felt different.
Quiet.
Izzy sat at the small dining table by the window, still wrapped in one of Dominic’s shirts.
The city outside was waking up slowly, cars moving below, sunlight slipping through the glass. On the table between them were white takeout boxes from the Chinese restaurant Dominic had ordered from earlier.
There was fried rice, sesame chicken, spring rolls, and two cups of hot tea. Normally, Izzy would have teased him about ordering too much food. This time, she barely touched her plate.
Dominic noticed immediately.
He leaned back in his chair, watching her over the rim of his cup. She hadn’t said more than two words since they sat down. No jokes. No soft smiles. No teasing glances.
“You’ve been quiet,” he said finally. His voice wasn’t sharp…. just careful. “What’s going on?”
Izzy picked at a grain of rice, then set her fork down. Her hands were trembling slightly.
“I just… I wanted to ask you something,” she said softly.
Dominic straightened a little. “Okay.”
She took a breath. “What we agreed on. The sex-only thing.” She swallowed. “Does that still stand?”
He frowned. “Why are you asking me that?”
She shrugged, not looking at him. “I just want to know.”
He studied her face for a long moment. “Izzy,” he said slowly, “what’s really going on?”
“Nothing,” she whispered. “I just wanted to be sure.”
There was a pause. Then he nodded once. “Yes,” he said. “It still stands.”
Her chest tightened, but she nodded too, like she had expected that answer.
Then she spoke again, quieter. “What if I said… I want more than that?”
Dominic’s eyes flicked away from hers.
“More like what?” he asked, carefully, avoiding her gaze.
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Her fingers curled into the fabric of the shirt she was wearing.
“Like…” she started, then stopped.
He looked back at her. “Izzy.”
She shut her eyes, as if bracing herself. When she spoke again, her voice shook.
“I love you, Dominic.”
Silence filled the room.
He stared at her, frozen.
“I’m madly in love with you,” she continued, words spilling now. “I’ve tried not to be. I told myself this wouldn’t happen, but it did. I can’t pretend anymore.”
Dominic stood abruptly, running both hands over his face.
“Fuck, Izzy…” he muttered, turning away from her.
She watched him, heart pounding.
“I told you from the beginning,” he said, his voice rough. “I can’t give you love. I don’t want it. I don’t need it.”
He turned back to face her, eyes dark but conflicted.
“I enjoy what we do,” he said honestly. “I enjoy fucking you. I like being around you. But love?” He shook his head. “I don’t have that to give. I don’t know how to and I don’t want it .”
Izzy’s throat burned, but she nodded slowly.
“It’s.. it’s fine … I… I needed to hear it,” she said quietly.
The air between them felt heavy now…. thick with everything unsaid.
Neither of them touched their food again.
The morning dragged on in heavy silence.
Izzy picked at her leftover fried rice, pushing pieces around her plate while Dominic’s words from earlier echoed in her mind. She hadn’t expected him to react the way he did… so cold… so brutal. Every glance toward him made her stomach twist.
By noon, the silence became unbearable. There was only her thoughts… and the tension that had built between them.
Then the door clicked open, and Dominic stepped inside. His suit was sharp, his movements precise, but there was a chill in the way he looked at her. He didn’t smile. He didn’t speak softly. He simply said:
“We are leaving. Pack your things. Get your things ready.. I’ll be in the car.”
The words hit her like ice.
No hint of warmth.. Just that sharp, commanding tone she’d grown used to… but today, it felt like a wall between them.
Izzy’s hands froze on the hem of her shirt. “Uh… okay,” she said quietly, her voice small, almost uncertain. She stood slowly, her mind racing. Should she asked me why they were leaving so soon? Why was he acting differently.. Like he's mad at her. She had so many questions to ask.
But she didn’t. She turned toward her closet, pulling clothes and a small bag together, her movements stiff. Each fold of her clothes felt deliberate, her thoughts were tangled with the memory of her confession earlier.
She caught herself glancing at him, trying to read his face. But he didn’t look at her. Not once. He simply walked out of the room with that same precise, controlled step, leaving her to pack alone.
Her chest tightened.
She hated the distance. She hated how cold he was being. And yet… even as she stuffed her things into her bag.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she slung the bag over her shoulder and walked toward the door. Dominic was already leaning against the sleek black car, arms crossed, jaw tight. His eyes flicked to her briefly, sharp, assessing, and she felt that familiar heat of being under his gaze… fear, longing, she couldn’t tell what it was.
She took a deep breath and walked toward him, forcing herself to appear calm and collected. But inside, her heart was hammering.
“Let’s go,” he said, voice low and firm. No softness. No room for argument.
She nodded, climbing into the passenger seat. The car door clicked shut behind her. Silence filled the space between them, thick and unbroken.
Dominic started the engine. The car glided out, leaving their morning and sweet memories.. behind.
Izzy’s fingers gripped her bag, knuckles white. She wanted to speak. To ask him why he was like this. But something told her… he’d answer when he was ready. Until then… she would sit quietly and let him drive.
The drive was heavy with silence. The hum of the engine was the only sound, and every so often Izzy glanced at Dominic, but he didn’t look at her. His jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, and the usual warmth, the teasing glances, the small smiles… none of it was there.
Izzy’s hands rested tensely on her lap, twisting her bag strap. Her mind replayed the morning’s conversation over and over. She wanted to reach for him, to say something, but the words caught in her throat. There was a wall between them now, one she hadn’t seen coming, and she didn’t know how to climb over it.
When they pulled up to her apartment building, she sat frozen for a moment, staring at the car door handle. She opened it slowly, as if the action itself might break the tension, but Dominic didn’t move to help her. He didn’t speak.
“Uh… thanks for the ride,” she said softly, almost apologetically, even though she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong.
He didn’t reply. He simply nodded once, a stiff motion, and then started the car. Before she could even lift her gaze, the engine roared and he drove off, leaving her standing alone.