Chapter 11
For the next few weeks, Dom worked overtime trying to win me back.
He woke up early to make me avocado toast and cappuccinos, took me shopping on Rodeo Drive whenever he had a free hour, and even suggested brunch at the little café in Venice where we’d first met.
“Remember this place?” he asked, his eyes full of hope as we sat at a corner table. I looked around the hipster coffee shop with its exposed brick and hanging plants. “It’s just a café. Nothing special. Actually, I’m surprised you’d be caught dead
somewhere this… modest these days, Mr. Reid.”
“This is where we first met,” he insisted. “Junior year at Berkeley. I was working here after losing my scholarship money in that poker game. There was that manager who always had it out for me. Remember? He picked up a woman’s wallet from the floor, but when she came back looking for it, he claimed I’d stolen it.” He spoke with such emotion, but I felt absolutely nothing. I examined my manicure, watching him like he was an actor in a bad movie.
“And then what? Did campus police arrest you?” I asked sarcastically.
Dom ignored my tone and continued earnestly: “You were the only one who spoke up. In a café full of people, you were the only one brave enough to tell the truth—
that you’d seen the manager pick up the wallet. From that moment, Liv, I fell completely in love with you. I promised myself I’d marry you someday.”
I pretended to be moved, taking a sip of scalding coffee that brought involuntary
tears to my eyes.
“I loved you for eight years,” I said, letting my voice break. “I never thought you’d betray me for another woman. We’re about to get married, and you humiliate me like this. You’re such a disappointment, Dom.”
Seeing my tears, he rushed to my side of the table, pulling me into his arms.
“Never again, I swear. Trust me, Liv. I’ll give you everything you want. I’ll handle Vanessa–she won’t come anywhere near us again.”
I buried my face in his shoulder, hiding my smile. Men were so predictable.
