CHAPTER 91

CHAPTER 91
Clair’s POV

I smoothed the front of my dress for what had to be the hundredth time, palms damp against the soft fabric. My pulse thudded so hard I swore the whole street could hear it. It was ridiculous, really. 
The truth was far messier. I’d spent days working up the courage to invite Dominic and Ethan, telling myself it was about getting to know them outside of the clinic, outside of sterile hallways and professional roles. But deep down, I knew why I’d asked.
Tyler had been the one to nudge me over the edge. His words had replayed in my head all week.
“Dominic’s the type who appreciates stability,” he’d said, smiling like he knew some secret I didn’t. “He notices people who genuinely care.”
That had been all the encouragement I needed. So here I was, clutching a container of cookies I’d baked myself, wondering if I looked too eager or maybe not eager enough.
When I finally spotted Tyler standing near the restaurant entrance, a rush of relief swept through me.
“Tyler!” I hurried toward him, my voice just a little too bright. “Thank God, I thought I’d be the first one here.”
He gave me that warm, reassuring grin of his, the kind that always made me feel like everything would be okay. “Relax,” he said lightly. “It’s going to be fun. Just dinner.”
I nodded, though my fingers tightened around the container of cookies. Just dinner. Easy. Right.
Dominic and Ethan arrived a few minutes later, walking side by side. The moment I saw Dominic, my throat went dry.
I led everyone to the table I’d reserved, chattering nervously to fill the silence. Tyler sat beside me, leaving Dominic and Ethan across from us.
I forced myself to ask questions about work, about his interests. Safe topics. Nothing too personal.
Dominic answered politely, but his replies were clipped, restrained, like he was only giving me just enough to keep the conversation alive. Still, I hung on every word.
The restaurant was cozy and intimate, full of warm wood and soft lighting. The hum of other diners faded whenever Dominic spoke.
Sometimes, his hand brushed Ethan’s as they reached for the same dish, and I tried to smile like it didn’t twist something deep inside me.
At first, Ethan seemed relaxed, even playful, teasing Dominic gently. But as the evening wore on, I started to notice small changes.
Every time I laughed at something Dominic said, Ethan’s smile dimmed just a little. When I leaned in closer to hear Dominic better, Ethan’s shoulders tensed, his posture stiffening like a barrier between us.
I told myself I was imagining it. It wasn’t like I was doing anything wrong. This was just dinner. Halfway through the meal, Tyler decided to stir things up.
“You know,” he said with a light laugh, “Dominic’s always been the protective type. Back when we first met, he was always looking out for people. Especially the ones he really cares about.” My heart skipped at those words.
“That makes sense,” I said softly, almost without thinking. “I’ve noticed that too. At the clinic, he’s… steady. Reliable. Always making sure things run smoothly.” I hesitated, embarrassed by how much emotion had crept into my voice. “It’s admirable.”
Dominic didn’t respond. His jaw tightened ever so slightly, and I instantly regretted speaking.
Tyler didn’t miss a beat. His tone was casual, but there was a sharpness beneath it.
“Sometimes I wonder if Dominic’s really satisfied with just work,” he mused. “A guy like him might want something more. Someone to come home to. Someone who really sees him.”
Ethan’s fork hit his plate with a sharp clink. His voice was calm, but the edge beneath it was unmistakable.
“Dominic and I have a good thing,” he said evenly. “We understand each other.”
The words dropped between us like a stone. Tyler raised his hands in mock surrender, his smile all easy charm. “Of course. Just an observation.”
But the tension at the table didn’t ease. If anything, it grew thicker, choking.
Dominic’s gaze swept over all of us, lingering on Tyler for a heartbeat too long. For a moment, I thought he might say something sharp, but he didn’t. He just resumed eating, his face unreadable.
The rest of dinner was like walking a tightrope. I tried desperately to steer the conversation back to neutral ground, funny stories from the clinic but no matter what I said, I could feel the undercurrents pulling us apart.
Every time I spoke to Dominic, I felt Ethan’s attention pressing down on me like a physical weight.
At one point, I reached across the table to refill Dominic’s water glass. Our fingers brushed barely, just for a second but the thrill that shot through me was almost dizzying.
When I glanced up, Ethan’s jaw was set like stone. I snatched my hand back, cheeks burning, and Dominic shifted subtly away, his body language stiff and cold.
The message couldn’t have been clearer. I forced myself to keep smiling, pretending everything was fine. Pretending I was fine.
When the check came, Ethan insisted on paying. His voice was light, even joking, but there was a firmness beneath it that no one dared challenge. Dominic didn’t protest. His silence said enough.
As we all left the restaurant, the cool night air hit my skin like a wake-up call. I fell slightly behind, walking with Tyler while Dominic and Ethan moved ahead.
Tyler kept up a steady stream of small talk, his voice a soothing backdrop to the turmoil in my head.
Ahead of us, Dominic and Ethan walked close together, their figures framed by pools of streetlight.
Ethan’s hand rested on Dominic’s arm, but there was a possessiveness to the gesture, a silent claim.
I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I didn’t need to. The tension between them was obvious, thick enough to choke on.
My stomach twisted with a mix of guilt and longing.
When we reached my street, I slowed to a stop. “Thanks for walking me back,” I said, my voice softer than I meant it to be.
Tyler smiled kindly. “You did great tonight. It’s not easy putting something like this together.”
I gave a weak laugh. “I just… I wanted everyone to feel comfortable.”
“They did,” he assured me smoothly. “Don’t overthink it.”
I nodded, even though the unease coiled tight in my chest wouldn’t let go.