[A/N: I've had this chapter up my sleeve for a while, but I've just been reviewing it over and over again. I'm pretty sure it's ready now. It's a long one. Enjoy!🌿]

18th of November, 2023

It is a Saturday morning, and I had woken up to the sounds of sirens outside my apartment. It had been years, but somehow they still awakened every bit of worry within me. Especially when I wasn't prepared. I could feel my chest tightening up by the noise, and I instantly turned my head around to see that Dom was still asleep next to me. The sight of him made me feel relieved, because it meant that the sirens weren't for him. I tapped and blinked over and over again until I could barely hear them anymore, and my heart rate could drop as I began to breathe again.
I turned to my bedside table to check what time it was.
06:34. It wasn't too early, even though we had gone to bed quite late last night.
Actually, it was one of the better sleeps I'd had in this apartment.
I usually slept better when Dom stayed the night.
Even though I sometimes also didn't.
I rubbed my eyes, and sat up straight before putting on my knitted woolen socks, and walked to the bathroom. Upon seeing myself in the mirror, I realized how tired I looked. My hair was messy, and I had bags underneath my eyes. Maybe I hadn't slept too well after all.

In all honesty, it had been a long week at work. The small publisher that I was working for was great for a starting position, but it also meant that I had to be available all the time during the week. And sometimes on the weekends, as well. On top of that, my OCD had been flaring up during the last month. I had tried so hard to keep it away from work, and focused on trying to manage to live on my own, that everything just had caught up with me. However, it was manageable. And that was all I could ask for.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
Part of me wanted to go back to bed, curl up next to Dom and sleep.
But part of me also knew I had several articles to look at and proofread before Monday.
So, therefore I washed my face in an attempt to wake up.
As I reached for my toothbrush, I noticed something.
Another toothbrush in the toothbrush cup, next to mine.
It was bright red, one of the toothbrushes that you bought in a multi pack.
It was something new that was so small that anyone would've found it insignificant.
But its placement bothered me.

Dom always kept his things in his toiletry bag.
Why had he suddenly not?

I don't know why, but the sight of the toothbrush in the cup made me feel uneasy.
I took mine, and quickly brushed my teeth, counting every second so I made sure I reached two minutes. Yet, my eyes were still stuck to the sight of his. In my toothbrush cup. The silly, flowery, cup that I had found at a Goodwill before moving into college. I just couldn't leave it there, all alone on its shelf. In my mind, it belonged to a set of other flowery cups that you would use for your morning coffee. But I used it for my toothbrush. And now Dom had put his in there. The thought made my stomach knot itself.

Right before going back out, I brushed through my hair, and put it up in a bun. I also put on my hearing aid. The sounds got clearer. But the ambulance was still gone. As I opened the door to try to and sneak out into the combined living room and kitchen, I realized that I had woken up Dom.
"Come back to sleep", he said, his voice all raspy and quiet. I could hear that he wasn't fully awake.
"I've got work", I quickly told him, quicker than I usually spoke to him.

The toothbrush was still on my mind.
Why had he put that there?
He wasn't supposed to.
He didn't have to.
He was just staying over.

Dom yawned loudly, his face burrowed in his pillow as he looked at me, half-asleep.
"Darling, it's a Saturday. Just come back to bed", Dom continued to tell me, but I just walked out the door and closed it behind me. I could hear him turn around in the covers behind me, hopefully trying to get back to sleep.

My laptop was still on the table, charging, and around it was an organized pile of papers that had to be read. I opened the laptop, only to find three more emails from my supervisors of texts I had to read. I tried to ignore my heart that had suddenly begun to pound a little faster than usual, and began to tap instead as I pressed print on the additional pages, while I took the first text from my pile.

As I read, I highlighted and commented.
When I was finished, I'd write a short summary and put it in the read pile.
But reading took longer than expected.
The toothbrush still nagged me.
Bright red, like a traffic light in my mind.
Yet, I continued reading.
Even if I could barely focus.

"Morning again", Dom said, as he walked through the bedroom door and into the combined living room and kitchen, about an hour and a half later. He sounded a bit more awake than earlier.
"Morning", I replied, but I didn't look up, as I highlighted another paragraph.
"Have you eaten?", he asked me.
I shook my head.
A couple of minutes later, a cup of tea and a bagel with cream cheese appeared on my read pile.
"Not on it, I have to hand these in-", I said, sounding annoyed as I quickly moved the tableware away from the papers.
"Y'know, there's not much space left on the table with all your work-", Dom jokingly said, and even though I knew that he was trying to lighten my mood, I didn't reply. "Hey-", Dom caringly said, putting his hand on my shoulder.
Automatically, I flinched and pulled away.
The shame washed over me. I wasn't supposed to do that.
He moved his hand away, confused by my reaction.
"Sorry", I said, just as automatically as I had pulled away from him.
Dom took his seat across mine at the small table.
"That's okay", he replied, but I could hear that he had been taken aback by it. "Do you want to go to this food market downtown later? I saw it on instagram the other day, and the food looks incredible", he kindly suggested, and I could see that he was excited about it.
Over the years, his interest in food as well as cooking had grown. Sometimes he'd see a dish on social media, or get an idea at work, and pop by the nearest grocery store to get the supplies and just start cooking when he got home. I was more of the planning ahead, mealprepping type when it came to cooking, but I always appreciated it when Dom would cook something new. But at that moment, all I could see was the endless texts. And the toothbrush.
"I've got work", I replied sternly, and it wasn't untrue.
Dom fell quiet.
"It's a Saturday, Ruthers", he said, sounding a little defeated.
"I know, Dom, but if I wanna make editor some day I really need to do my best, which means working on a Saturday", I bluntly replied in a monotone voice, while I violently highlighted a sentence. In hindsight, I didn't even know why I had highlighted it.
"I can see you're tired, and working more isn't going to fix that exactly", he continued to talk, despite my efforts of trying to get him to be quiet.
"I'm not tired", I protested, with my head in the documents.
"Rue, you can't just work all the time-", Dom continued to talk. "They can't expect you to do that. And it's not even a full time position, right?"
His questions began to annoy me, and I replied in a quick manner.
"Like I said, I need to. And I can't blame them, I'm new, they're a small company, so I don't blame them, obviously they can't pay me full time-"
"But you're working full time", he countered my point. "And more"
"Let it be, Dominic", I said, trying to shut down the conversation.
Dom grew quiet again.
I hoped that he'd stay quiet, but I knew that he was just thinking.
Like always.
A couple of seconds later, he spoke up.
"Okay, what's going on?", he asked me, sounding confused.
This made me look up at him.
"What do you mean?", I asked him in return.
"You're being really short with me, and you barely want to look me in the eyes", he frankly replied, trying to find my eyes.
I looked down, ashamed.
"And you flinched when I touched you", he added, and I could hear that that had scared him.
My stomach dropped.
"Sorry", I quietly told him. "I didn't mean to, it won't happen again-"
"No, don't do that. Don't apologize. I know you don't mean to. I know that. Just talk to me", he pleaded, reaching out his hand for mine across the table. But when he was about to reach it, I pulled away and put both my hands underneath the table, and began to tap in the pattern that I knew by heart.
I began to blink, too, as I turned my head to the side to look out the window.
"Rue", he said, asking for my attention. "Rue. Look at me"
I unwillingly turned my head back, and met his eyes.
"What is it?", he quietly asked me.
"You...", I began, but I slowly trailed off.
"Come on. You're mad. You're really bad at being mad, but just be mad for once. I'm not going to let you be all quiet for a few days until you're not anymore", Dom continued to tell me, and part of me knew that he was right.
I wasn't good with conflict.
And he was much better at it.
He knew how to handle stuff.
I didn't.
"I don't like to fight", I said, just loud enough so that he could hear it.
"I don't like to fight either, but I don't want you to just go with it and not talk about it. It gets better if we talk about it", he assured me, looking me straight in the eye.
I looked down, and stared at my hands as I tapped.
With a muffled voice, I spoke.
"You put your toothbrush in the toothbrush cup holder", and I knew that it sounded crazy, but I also knew that he could hear that it had trailed me off.
I didn't dare to look at him.
"Oh. Okay. I probably just put it there by mistake, I was really tired last night-", he began to say. "But I'll move it. If that's what you want"
I hesitantly nodded, still scared to meet his eyes. He took a sip of his coffee.
"It's alright", he told me, and I knew he was telling the truth. "Really, it's alright. It's just a toothbrush. I'll move it", he tried to reassure me.
I couldn't put my finger on why, but this seemed to bother me even more.
"It's not just a toothbrush", I surprised myself by saying, half-mumbling the sentence.
"Huh?", he said, a little confused.
"It's not just a toothbrush", I repeated with a clearer voice, daring to look up. I sounded determined as I said it, because I was still angry. "Soon I'm gonna find your shampoo in the shower, your umbrella in the hallway, your current read on the bedside table-"
He looked at me, surprised at first, and the he narrowed his eyebrows.
"And how is that so bad? We have keys to our apartments. You're allowed to leave stuff at mine too, y'know. I sleep here like a couple of times a week, and you at mine as well. So how is a toothbrush that bad?", he exclaimed, and I knew that he was mad now too.
Because he didn't understand.
I looked down again.
"It just is", I quietly, but angrily, said.
"You're doing it again", he pointed out.
"What?", I snarled at him, as I looked up, and stared right at him.
"Avoiding it", he replied, but he didn't sound angry. "As soon as it gets too close, you look away and go quiet"
I tried to blink away the tears that had formed in my eyes, but not to much success.
At least they weren't falling yet.
"It's easier", I managed to say.
"It's not supposed to be easy", Dom countered.
Sometimes he could be just as stubborn as I was.
"I hate this", I stuttered, as I tapped and blinked.
"I hate this too", Dom said, and I looked at him.
I could see that there was pain in his eyes.
"Why do you do it then? Why won't you let me be quiet?", I asked him, my voice clear.
"Because you don't have to be, Rue! I don't want you to distance yourself from me. I don't want you to be quiet, I... I want you here. And you haven't been lately", he started out shouting, but then his voice got quieter and quieter.
The tears were falling now.
I desperately tried to dry them, but my efforts were unsuccessful.
That's when I noticed that Dom was crying too.
"And the last time you were this far away we broke up", he quietly said, almost so silent like he didn't want me to hear him say it.

We had never really talked about the break up after getting back together a little over two years ago.
And, the sad thing was that I knew what he meant.
Because I also, deep down, knew what I was doing.
In a sense, I was distancing myself from him because a part of me still thought that he was going to leave me.
Because I knew that I was never going to be able to give him what others so easily could.

"I don't want to break up", I said, slowly piecing the words together. "But you're free to go, if you want to", I added. It was truthful, but heartbreaking, to admit. And it was probably just as heartbreaking for him to hear.
"Rue, please-", Dom began to say, his tone sad.
"No. I broke up with you after that summer because I thought we weren't going to work out, and because I thought you should at least have gotten a chance to meet someone else. Because I knew I was holding you back. A-and like, that summer, I really tried to make an effort because I didn't want to hold you back-", I was talking fast, the words coming out louder than anticipated in between my tears.
My heart beat faster and faster by the second.
"And then, wh-when you knew that I could do things, I didn't want to disappoint, okay? Because I knew you always actually wanted to do something more, something else, when I just couldn't. So I broke up with you, to let you do what you wanted", I told him, my voice breaking every now and then as I weeped. I also knew that even though I tried to make it sound selfless, it was a selfish reason to break up.
"I wanted to be with you", Dom assured me, still sitting across from me at the table. He was holding his coffee cup tightly, as if it made the situation less tense. "I still do. I'll say that as many times as you'll need to hear it"
I hadn't even touched the breakfast he'd made me.
"I was really hesitant to get back with you", I suddenly said.
"I know", he said, hesitantly. "Because of Sam", he added. I nodded, but I could see that he knew that there was more to it. "And because you thought you wouldn't be enough?", he sincerely asked me.
I nodded, feeling the tears welling up again.
I tried to dry them.
Maybe that was what I had felt when I had looked at the toothbrushes that morning.
A reminder that I would never be enough.
And that he deserved to be with someone who would.
"And it's not just that- it's... it's also that I have to do things... things I don't feel that c-comfortable with sometimes", by that point, I was literally forcing the words out. The words felt unreal to say, because part of me had been bearing them for so many years without letting them out. Without even really letting myself think them.
I blinked harder.
And then tapped faster.
"Like what?", Dom worriedly asked me, though I could hear that he was trying to hide it.
"It's... it's always felt so natural with you, a-and I want you to know that. And... and usually it feels good. Touching. Looking. Being close-", I was barely making it through the sentences now. "But sometimes, I-I just feel like I need to get away", I said, my jaws tense as I had to force the words out. "And a toothbrush means I have to do those things even more"
In a way, it felt like something had been lifted off my chest.
I hadn't even connected the dots properly by myself until I had spoken them.
Dom looked at me, his eyes earnest and understanding.
"Would you want to hold my hand? Just for a second", he said, reaching out over the table that had served as a border for the last number of minutes. Against every particle in my body, I reached out for it, just across the table, because I knew I wanted to - because I knew his warmth made me feel safe. He rubbed his thumb on the back of my hand.
"Is this okay?", he asked me carefully.
I wiped my tears with my other hand, as I nodded.
"Y-yeah", I replied.
"Because, Rue, I really want you to tell me when you don't want to", he told me. "Like last night. I'm fine with not doing anything-", he continued to reassure me, but I just shook my head.
"We're in a relationship, Dom. You're supposed to have s*x when you're in a relationship", I found myself saying, and by that point I wasn't thinking about what I was saying before I said it. "I don't want you to give up on something that's supposed to be part of life because I can't get it out of my head that you're going to do something I don't want you to because I was r*ped-", somehow, I ran out of words.
With that, Dom stood up, and walked around the table to get to me.
He didn't let go of my hand. I didn't let go either. Because in that moment it was the only thing reminding me that I was here, sitting by the table, in my kitchen, in my apartment that I pay far too much in rent for, in the city that I called home, and with the person I loved - and not there, in the dark room that still haunted me.
I was holding on to Dom for dear life.
But, as I watched at him, I was afraid.
Afraid that he was going to let go.
And walk out the door.
To leave me.
He looked at me, and nodded, as if to ask is this okay?, and I nodded before he pulled me in for a hug that I so desperately needed, even though I hadn't realized it myself. I had been unconsciously pushing him away for so long, that I hadn't realized how much I needed it.
His arms embraced me, yet I continued to stay still.
"Dom, you don't have to...", I began to say, feeling ashamed about my behaviour, but he kindly cut me off.
"Yes I do. When you're hurting, all I want is to hold you and tell you that it's going to be okay even if I don't know how", he calmly replied, as he held me tightly. "Because you can't just say that and not expect me to react", he replied, talking quietly.
My tears were still falling.
His too.
"I'll hold you forever, if you want me to", he said.
Suddenly, I let myself relax in his arms, nodding at his statement.
And I cried even harder.
My head hurt from the tears.
I leant into his t-shirt.
And left a little wet patch of tears.
When I noticed that, I apologized hysterically and let go of him.
"It's just an old t-shirt. It'll be fine", Dom easily replied, smiling sadly at me. "Hey-", he continued to say, as my crying had gotten back to a somewhat normal level, and I lifted my eyes to look at him. "Let's go sit on the sofa instead", he caringly suggested.
I glanced at my piles of documents, highlighters and computer.
"But I have to-", I told him, to which he just shook his head.
"No you don't. You can do it later. It'll be there for you later", he calmly assured me. I hesitantly nodded, as I felt the thoughts in my head build up. He took my hand, and led me to the sofa.

It was a small, blue, velvet sofa that I had spotted on Facebook marketplace right as I had moved in after graduating last May. To my surprise, it was barely used, and I had instantly called Dom to make him help me carry it the ten blocks to my new apartment. During that walk I think we experienced every single emotion we had ever felt. It had started out fairly well, with a loving comment here and there. At one point I had been shouting at him for carrying it the wrong way because I was afraid that it was going to break, and at another he had been yelling at me for not walking in a straight enough line. When we had finally made it to my apartment, I realized that I hadn't calculated the stairs into the equation. But Dom had just waved some stranger in from the street with his welcoming smile, and somehow the three of us made it up the four flights of stairs. Even though the stranger had kindly declined, I had given him an ice cream lolly from the freezer as a thank you. After some more time and annoyed comments, Dom and I had got the sofa in place. Together, we both fell and sat down on it, absolutely shattered and exhausted from the effort. It's perfect, Dom had said. That's what I told you, I had replied. I'm sorry for shouting, I had continued to say, and leant onto him. Me too, he had said, pulling me in for a kiss. And then we hadn't thought much about it.

But I was thinking about that moment now.
It had been our first proper fight.
When it wasn't just Dom being mad, and I hadn't said something back and accepted it.
And it wasn't just me who had mad, but being mad quietly.
At certain points during that day, I think we both had wanted to just walk away from each other and leave the other with the sofa, alone on the street of New York.
But we hadn't.
Instead we had stayed, continued to bicker, and then made up.
I knew we had to get better at that.

Dom sat down first, on his side of the sofa. He put down my bagel on the small coffee table in front of it.
"Can I sit with you?", I asked him, before taking the seat next to him.
He looked at me, sort of surprised by the question.
Usually I would've taken my side if I was mad at him.
But also, usually, I wouldn't ask for permission to sit next to him. I'd just sit down, and make myself comfortable.
"Yeah, of course-", he said, without a doubt in his voice. I sat down, right next to him, and leant my head on his shoulder.
I tried to push away the thoughts of the amount of work that was currently laying on the table just a few meters away, as Dom switched on the TV. There was a British renovating show on. We watched quietly for a while, only to giggle at certain moments, and then begin to comment on the ugly stuff people choose to have in their homes. I ate half my bagel.

When the host of the program was doing the final home visit, I had gathered enough confidence to speak.
"I was going to tell you about it", I found myself saying, realizing that I wasn't making much sense. "About me being r*ped", I mentioned quickly, as if I was trying to get over with it. "At some point", I continued. "I think I was just... I was just trying to convince myself that you knew enough. Because you knew about Sam. So you didn't have to know more. Even though I know you do"
Dom moved a lock of hair out of my face.
"I didn't mean to force it out of you", Dom said quietly.
"You didn't. I just picked a bad moment to say it", I assured him.
"Still", Dom said, looking at me. I could see that he was feeling bad about it.
"I don't think about it too often", I mentioned, as if I had to prove myself on the topic.
"That's good", Dom said, and I could sense that he didn't exactly know how to reply.
"It just comes over me sometimes. I can handle it", I added, still feeling as if I had to prove against what I had mentioned earlier.
We stayed quiet for a little while.
I think we both knew what to say, but not how.
Until Dom broke the silence.
"I don't want you to feel like you have to do things", Dom told me, with sadness in his voice. He muted the TV. "Or that you feel like you have to handle it"
I shook my head.
"Please, Dom. It's not that big of a deal-", I said to him, trying to divert the conversation, as I sat up straight.
"But it is, Rue! So can you please stop downplaying it-", he objected, sounding a bit frustrated with me.
"What do you want me to say, then? The truth? Because I don't think you want to hear it", I said, my voice louder than I had planned. I was looking right at him. And I was doing the exact same thing that I had just explained to him that I wouldn't do. Trying to not let him in.
He nodded, looking at me with a sincere expression, one that I could never seem to read.
"Of course I want to hear the truth. I don't want you to feel like you have to conceal it from me", he replied calmly, as if his answer had been obvious. Anxiously, I swallowed, knowing I had to live up to what I had said.
I moved away from him, just ever so slightly, so that there was space between us.
And he knew I had.
"Okay-", I quickly said, as I began to tap.
I took a deep breath and began speaking much faster than I usually did.
"You kind of know about the first time. I was thirteen. I had been staying with a really shitty foster family on and off for about a year, there were these two brothers, a-and especially the oldest brother was on me about everything. You remember that guy that crashed our pre-prom picnic? He was the younger one", I took another breath, while trying to plan what to say next. "It happened on New Year's Eve. There were fireworks outside. And then it just continued, just a few times a-and not as bad. Usually he'd just tell me to do things, and when I didn't do them correctly, he'd hurt me and call me things", I continued to tell, still facing away from Dom with a clear space between us. "And I told you about Sam. And it really wasn't that bad-"
"Stop saying that it wasn't that bad, because I know what he did-", Dom said, cutting me off. I was still facing away from him.
"And I know what he did too", I quietly said, somehow defending Sam even though I had spent years trying to heal myself from what he did.
"Rue-", Dom tried to say, but I just shook my head.
"It wasn't as bad, okay?", I said to him, raising my voice as I felt that the tears were welling up behind my eyes. Dom got quiet by my sudden reaction. "It wasn't as bad", I quietly repeated, while blinking away the tears as the horrifying memories came over me. That's when I think it clicked for Dom why I hadn't told anyone, or gone to the police, after what Sam had done. Because only now did he realize that I had I been through something worse. And that Sam had faded in comparison.
"O-okay", he said, accepting my reaction and reassuring me that it was okay.
I knew Dom would've wanted to hold my hand when I said the next part, and that was part of why I had moved away. Because I didn't want him to hold it when I told him this. I anxiously swallowed, dreading the next thing I now knew I had to say, even though I had spent years and years not telling him.
"And then it was the journalist. My uncle. He had a gun. It was dark. The floor was dirty. There was a chair. He was on top of me. His hands were on my neck. And I couldn't get out", my neck was strained, and I kept my eyes pinned forward, locked on the television that had moved on to another show.
It was completely quiet around us. Only the muffled sounds of cars outside my building could be heard. But it still was so loud. And my mind just kept on getting louder. I squeezed my eyes closed, but all I could see was him. Sitting on that chair. Looking at me with disgust.
"At one point, I remember thinking that it would be better if I just stopped breathing myself, than if he killed me", I continued to say, my voice monotone, just loud enough for Dom to hear me say it.
The sentences barely made sense, but then the memories in my head didn't make sense either.
I fell quiet, having had to force the last words out. The words of the story still seemed so disgusting to say, their nature so strange that I felt like they made me disgusting by just admitting to them and what had happened. I had tried to keep my emotions in, but as I said the last sentence, my voice began to shake. I anxiously fixed my hair, pulling it behind my ears.
Dom didn't move, and kept the small space between us in order to respect my choice of moving away.
After I had collected myself, I continued.
"At first I couldn't remember anything. But, then, slowly, it came back. Piece after piece. I think that that summer, when you were home from college and everything was supposed to be great and fine, it just kept coming over me, over and over, piece after piece. And when we did it for the first time it was all I could think about", I said, while looking out into nothing, as I tapped and had added blinking to my list. "And I had to remind myself that it was you, and that this was how it was supposed to feel, and that you wouldn't do anything-"
"But still", Dominic said as I paused for a second. His voice broke as he said it.
"Yeah. But still", I repeated, while looking down at my fiddling hands.
"Why didn't you tell me?", Dom asked me quietly, his voice trembling as he was seemingly affected by what I was saying.
"Because it's something I never wanted you to know", I replied, still keeping my eyes locked on my hands. "And you were a 19-year old boy in college, and I was 17-year-old girl in high school who freaked out when we had s*x. So I thought you deserved better", I rambled on, trying to be honest while every particle in me told me not to be.
As I kept my head down and my eyes locked at my hands, I realized that Dom was holding out his hand as an invite for me to take it, like he had done so many times in our relationship.
"I know now?", he said, making it almost sound like a question.
For the first time in a while, I dared to look at him.
His face was still, as he carefully looked at me with his brown, kind, eyes.
"I'm not sure if it makes me feel better", I replied quickly, as I instantly looked down on my hands again. "I guess I still don't want you to know", I whispered, unwillingly admitting it.
"I get that", Dom told me. He was still holding out his hand, as if to invite me into his embrace, but only if I accepted it.
"But you sorta knew already?", I hesitantly asked him, worried about how many puzzle pieces he had pieced together before this.
"Kind of", he admitted quietly. "But I didn't know know", he continued, sounding remorseful as he said it. "And if I had known it had been like this I-"
I shook my head, rejecting his statement.
"Don't do that", I said, interrupting him. "I can ignore it, I can make an effort, it's not that bad-", to which he cut me off.
"Ruthers, please. Obviously I don't want you to have to make an effort or do anything that you don't want to- I-I I want you to enjoy it-", he told me.
Furiously, I turned my head to look at him.
"But what if I'm never going to enjoy it, Dom? What if he just messed me up in so many more ways than I realized? Because one second you're you, my Dom, my lovely Dom who I don't think I deserve, and then you're him", I shouted at him through my tears, as I was looking at him, my eyes wide in a sense of panic and desperation, as they were welled up with tears. We both knew who I was referring to. "And I can't do anything about it except tell myself that it's not real"
I could feel Dom taking my hand, holding it tightly.
Only later would I realize that I had started scratching my wrists, right in front of him.
"Tell me then! Tell me when I'm not me. Tell me when you feel like that. Tell me", Dom said, speaking loud and clearly in order to get through to me.
"And then what?", I helplessly asked him, my voice trembling.
"And we'll try to figure it out", he said, looking at me with sad, but hopeful, eyes, as he tried to get me back. "Okay?"
His hands were keeping mine apart from the other.
I blinked my tears away, and found myself nodding.
He smiled ever so slightly, raising his eyebrows, relieved to see me responding.
"O-Okay", I managed to say, my voice still trembling, as I was scared to admit to it.
"Can I?", he asked me, holding up his hand, softly moving it towards my face and just stopping a few centimetres from my cheek.
I nodded, just so that he would notice.
He dried one of my lonely tears, and put a lock of hair behind my ear, before cupping his hand to touch my cheek and letting my head rest in his hand. His hand was warm, and one of the few hands I would ever allow to touch me.
He leant forward, and our foreheads met, softly leaning into each other.
His glasses weren't in the way, instead they were just there, a reminder that he was him, and not the person I would see when I closed my eyes.
"I love you", he whispered, because he did.
It was a couple of words that had slipped out of my mouth about three months after we had gotten back together. He had said it back, a little surprised but without a doubt. The fact that I had said it first had been surprising to the both of us.
"I love you too", I whispered back, because I did. And maybe that was why I had said okay.
"And I promise I won't leave a toothbrush or whatever here, until you say that it's okay", he reassured me, and to my surprise, it made me giggle quietly through my weeps.
"I'm sorry I haven't been here", I told him, apologising as I looked him straight in the eye.
"But you are now", Dom pointed out.
"Yeah", I said, still sniffling. "And I know I have to start looking for a new job, I just... I just didn't want to see it"
This surprised Dom.
"Yeah?", he asked me.
"Mm-hm"

—————
Heya!
It's been a little while since the last chapter. But to be honest, I've had this one since then and I've been just trying to figure out how I could weave things into it to work with the other chapters I've been working on. But, like I said, now I think it's ready to be published... and I hope you liked it🥰

This chapter focuses a lot on Rue's sexuality, and how Dom relates to that. But also how their relationship has grown over time. I tried to write it as realistic as possible, and I hope I did a good job❤️

As I published the last chapter, I said that I was on a trip. And I was! In Switzerland, actually. I have family there and it was the first time I've visited in years. Therefore, it was just really great to spend some time there. Even though that meant I had to work a bit extra to make uni work🇨🇭 (Genuine question that I've wondered about all my life: why do people mix up Sweden and Switzerland? If it just because the names start the same way? Or something else?)

It's also been quite a hectic few weeks of school work and student associations. Plus, I've been working on my portfolio because I need to start applying for internships for spring, before the ones I'm interested in will be gone. So I'm stressing in order to not be stressed later about that. I actually have exam week this week, and this, just writing, has been such a great way to destress at the end of the day. But tomorrow I have an exam at 8 am that is predicated to be horrible. I've done my best to prepare, and that is all I can do. So wish me good luck?👀

That said, I probably should get to bed. If you liked the chap, please leave a vote and maybe a comment too? I love reading them and they make me want to become a better writer😌

Have the loveliest of days,
Or maybe not for me who is about to go to sleep to then wake up and take a four hour exam, but then it will be lovely,
Sincerely,
H

Published: 24th of October, 2023