When History Repeats Itself

Chapter Six

A scream jolted me awake.

Short, sharp, unmistakably Sumaya. I sat up, heart thudding, tangled in sheets, adrenaline thundering through my veins before I could think.

I leapt from the bed and bolted down the hallway. Why was she screaming?

"Dom?!" she called, her voice ringing with confusion.

And then—clarity. Dominic Chase was sleeping in our guest room.

The night came rushing back: The phone call. The cemetery. The ring.

I slowed to a walk and stepped quietly toward the open door, where Sumaya stood frozen in her mint green scrubs, her purse spilled open on the floor like it had fainted from shock.

"Good morning, guys," I said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around, nearly stepping on a lipstick tube that had rolled away from her bag.

Behind her, Dom sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless and clearly disoriented. The duvet had slipped down to his waist, and he made no effort to pull it back up.

Sumaya blinked. "You're... organizing sleepovers with your boss now?"

"I can hear you, Sumaya," Dom muttered, rubbing his temples.

"Breakfast!" I announced, as if that solved everything. "We're probably all hungry. I'll whip something up."

They gave me identical looks that said, This is insane.

I tugged Sumaya out of the room, leaving her belongings scattered on the floor. Dom needed a moment—probably several—to recover.

In the kitchen, I busied myself gathering ingredients while Sumaya leaned against the counter, arms crossed.

"So?" she prompted.

"He needed a place to crash. He called. I helped."

I whisked eggs and poured them into a tray, tossing chopped veggies on top before sliding it into the oven.

"He called you?" she asked, eyebrow raised. "Isn't his girlfriend in town?"

"If I had answers, I'd give them to you. I'm as clueless as you are. But after Alexa and I crashed at his during that hellish weekend, it felt like I owed him one."

She nodded slowly. "Christopher mentioned that, actually. So you and Dom are close now?"

I heard what she was really asking.

"I'm not breaking up his engagement," I said plainly. "We talk. Sometimes. That's all."

She exhaled with a soft "Okay" and began making smoothies—pawpaw, pineapple, yogurt, the usual.

Time passed.

Too much time.

Dom still hadn't appeared.

I wiped my hands on a towel and padded back to the guest room. I knocked gently.

"Come in," he said.

He was still in bed, the covers bunched around his waist, a soft glow of morning light spilling across his bare chest. He was staring down at the engagement ring in his hand, turning it slowly between his fingers.

"Dom, breakfast's ready," I said gently.

He didn't look up. "I'm not hungry. I'll wash up and head to the office. Got a change of clothes there."