Chapter 65: Evening Garden

Summer's pov

The carriage slowed to a stop, the rhythmic crunch of wheels against gravel fading into silence. I leaned forward slightly, peering out of the small window. The scene outside was dimly lit, shadows dancing under the towering trees of a dense forest. 

“We’re stopping here?” I asked, glancing at Dominic. He didn’t answer right away, his gaze steady as he opened the carriage door and stepped out. 

“Come,” he said, his voice firm but calm, as though there was no room for argument. 

I hesitated, my fingers brushing against the soft fabric of my dress.

“This isn’t exactly what I imagined when you said we were going somewhere,” I muttered, but I followed, stepping down carefully. 

The cold air nipped at my skin, the forest feeling eerily quiet. As I adjusted my shawl, the carriage shifted behind me, and I turned to see Dominic dismissing the driver with a curt nod. 

“What are you doing?” I asked, confusion creeping into my voice as the driver tipped his hat and urged the horses forward. The carriage rolled away, leaving us standing alone at the edge of the forest. 

“You’ll see,” Dominic replied, his tone as infuriatingly vague as ever. 

“That’s not an answer,” I shot back, folding my arms. 

He didn’t respond, instead gesturing for me to follow him as he strode into the forest. The path was narrow, lit only by the faint glow of the moon filtering through the canopy above. 

“Dominic,” I pressed, trailing after him. “What are we doing here? Why did you send the carriage away?” 

He glanced over his shoulder.

“Trust me,”

I wanted to argue, to demand an explanation, but something in his voice stopped me. Instead, I sighed and followed, the soft rustle of leaves underfoot the only sound breaking the silence. 

The deeper we walked into the forest, the more the air seemed to change. It grew warmer, almost inviting, and the faint scent of flowers began to creep in, mingling with the earthy aroma of moss and wood. 

I frowned, glancing around. “This doesn’t feel like an ordinary forest,” I murmured, more to myself than to him. 

“You’re right,” Dominic said, his tone lighter now. He slowed his pace, falling in step beside me. “It’s not.” 

I raised an eyebrow at him, surprised by the sudden change in his demeanor. “Care to elaborate?” 

He smirked, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “You’ll see,” he repeated. 

I rolled my eyes, but before I could retort, the trees began to thin, and a soft, golden glow appeared ahead. My steps faltered as I took in the sight. 

We emerged into a clearing, and my breath caught in my throat. 

It was a garden. 

But not just any garden. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. 

The ground was covered in soft moss and vibrant flowers, their colors glowing faintly under the moonlight. Golden vines wrapped around ancient stone arches, their leaves shimmering like spun silk. In the center of the garden stood a fountain, its water sparkling as though it were infused with starlight. 

Fireflies danced in the air, their gentle light adding to the ethereal beauty of the scene. The air was filled with the faint hum of magic, and a sense of peace settled over me, easing the tension I hadn’t realized I was carrying. 

I turned to Dominic, my eyes wide. “What is this place?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. 

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixed on the fountain. After a moment, he spoke, his tone soft. “It’s a place of sanctuary.” 

I frowned, stepping closer to him. “For who?” 

Dominic looked at me then, his expression uncharacteristically vulnerable, “No one, just a place I come to clear my head.

His words hung in the air, and I felt a pang of curiosity mixed with unease. There was something deeply personal about this place, something that seemed to resonate with him in a way I didn’t fully understand. 

“Why did you bring me here?” I asked, my voice quieter now. 

He smiled faintly, a rare softness in his features. “Because you needed to see it.” 

I opened my mouth to press further, but he was already walking toward the fountain. I hesitated before following, my steps tentative. 

As we reached the edge of the fountain, I noticed something etched into the stone—intricate carvings of wolves and moons, their details worn with age. Dominic traced his fingers over the symbols, his gaze distant. 

“I used to show her places like this all the time.”

I stared at him.” Who?”

“You–Athena.”

I didn't speak and he continued.

He let out a soft, humorless laugh. “This place is almost as good as forgotten. Like most things are. No one knows of it, except I and now you.” 

The sadness in his tone caught me off guard, and for a moment, I saw a side of Dominic I hadn’t expected—a man burdened by more than he let on. 

I looked around the garden again, taking in its quiet beauty. “It’s incredible,” I said honestly. 

Dominic turned to me, his expression softening. “It is,” he agreed. “And it’s yours to enjoy for tonight.” 

I blinked, startled. “Mine?” 

He nodded. “Consider it a gift. Or a moment of peace, however fleeting.” 

The sincerity in his voice left me speechless, and I found myself nodding, unsure of what else to say. 

As the fireflies danced around us, I felt a strange sense of gratitude—not just for the beauty of the garden, but for the man who had brought me here. 

For once, I let the questions fade and allowed myself to simply exist in the moment, the magic of the garden weaving its spell around us.

Dominic stood silently by the fountain for a moment, his gaze lingering on the flowing water, as if lost in its tranquil rhythm. The garden was still, the air thick with the scent of blooming flowers and the soft hum of nature’s lullaby. But there was an unsettling heaviness in the air now, a weight that settled over me, coming from Dominic himself. 

Finally, after a long silence, he spoke. His voice was quieter than usual, almost reverent. 

“I used to bring Athena here.” 

His words stopped me in my tracks, and I turned to look at him, my heart suddenly heavy with the unspoken tension between us. 

“Athena?” I echoed, my voice almost a whisper. “You brought her here?” 

Dominic’s lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. He seemed to struggle with the words, as though they were memories, he wasn’t sure he wanted to confront. 

“She... she loved this place,” he continued, his voice low. “It was her sanctuary. A place where she could be free from everything, from the weight of the world.” 

I took a step closer, trying to piece together the meaning behind his words. “Was she important to you?” I asked cautiously, not sure if I should push for more. 

His jaw tightened, and he turned away slightly, focusing once again on the fountain. “She was,” he said, his tone clipped. “She was everything once. But things... changed.” 

I swallowed, unsure of what to say. It was clear that whatever had happened with Athena had left its mark on him, and that this garden, this sacred space, held memories that Dominic wasn’t ready to share completely. 

I felt an unexpected surge of empathy. Despite the walls he had built around himself, there was a rawness in his words, a vulnerability that betrayed him. 

“Did she... did she know how much this place meant to you?” I asked carefully, watching him closely. 

Dominic’s gaze flicked to mine, and for a moment, I saw something flicker in his eyes—a mixture of pain and something deeper. He didn’t answer at first, but then he spoke, his voice tight. 

“She did.”

His eyes never met mine as he spoke, his focus fixed somewhere beyond the garden, as though he were lost in a memory.

For a long moment, the only sound was the faint rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze, the soft hum of the garden as it existed in its quiet, magical peace. But there was a tension now, a distance that had crept into the space between us. I couldn’t help but feel it, as if the weight of Dominic’s words had formed an invisible barrier that I couldn’t cross.

I took a hesitant step forward, my gaze softening as I watched him. There was something about his quiet sorrow, the way his shoulders had stiffened ever so slightly, that urged me to bridge the gap. Slowly, I closed the distance between us, my voice gentle but steady.

“How was she like?” I asked, the question slipping from my lips before I had a chance to second-guess it. “Athena… how was she?”

Dominic’s eyes flickered toward me, but there was no immediate response.

He didn’t seem to hear me at first, lost in his thoughts.

“She was...” he trailed off, “...just like you.”