Chapter 9 - THE PICTURE FRAME
Six months later.
The crystal chandeliers of the Vale Family Relief Foundation gala sparkled above the ballroom of the waterfront hotel. The orchestra played a soft jazz melody. Politicians and businessmen still smiled and lied, but tonight, the atmosphere was different. Lighter.
Dominic stood near the balcony doors. He wore a sharp navy blue suit instead of his usual black. He held a glass of sparkling water.
The doors opened, and Claire walked in.
She wore a stunning sapphire blue gown. Her hair was pinned up, revealing the faint, fading scar on her right shoulder blade. She didn't hide it anymore. She wore it like a badge of honor.
She walked across the marble floor, completely at ease, stopping beside Dominic.
"You look beautiful," he said.
"You look terribly bored," she smiled.
Dominic chuckled. "Legitimate business is exhausting."
She slipped her arm through his. There was no hesitation. No tightness in her posture.
Dominic gently placed his large hand against the small of her back. He waited, his heart beating a little faster, just as it had every day for the last six months.
She didn't flinch. She leaned into his touch, resting her head against his shoulder.
The physical therapy had worked, but more importantly, the invisible wall between them had shattered. When Dominic had offered her the ticket to Paris, she had torn it in half, pulled him down by his collar, and kissed him for the first time with genuine, unrestrained passion.
She hadn't stayed for protection. She had stayed because, despite the darkness he came from, she loved him.
"Mrs. Keller says the nursery is finished," Claire said softly, looking up at him.
Dominic’s breath hitched. He looked down at her stomach, where a tiny, barely noticeable curve was just beginning to show under the silk of her dress.
"Is she happy with the paint color?" Dominic asked, his voice thick with a joy he was still learning how to express.
"She thinks it's a bit bright, but she admits it's cheerful," Claire laughed.
Dominic smiled, pulling her closer. He thought about the small, thirty-dollar silver picture frame on Claire's bedside table. For two years, it had held only a picture of her late mother. But yesterday, Claire had added a new photo. A picture of the two of them, taken on a quiet Sunday morning, laughing in their kitchen.
A family. Real, safe, and unbroken.
May you like
"Dominic?" she asked, noticing his silence. "What are you thinking about?"
"I was just thinking," Dominic said, kissing the top of her head as the orchestra played on, "that I finally have everything I ever wanted."
