Chapter 17 - HE KNOCKED FIRST
A year after the Rusty Skillet, Clara lived in a brighter apartment.
East-facing windows.
No bars.
No fake address.
No overnight cleaning shifts.
Toby’s homework covered the kitchen table.
Her old cleaver rested on a magnetic strip.
Polished.
Repaired.
Still marked:
C.S.
Nicholas had been convicted.
Morrow too.
Aaron Bell had retired somewhere warm and sent Toby postcards from places with terrible handwriting.
The Vance companies looked different.
Smaller.
Cleaner.
Less feared.
Dominic lost relationships he once considered indispensable.
He gained sleep.
According to him, that was a questionable trade.
According to Clara, it improved his personality by seven percent.
Their relationship grew slowly.
Coffee.
Dinners.
Walks.
Arguments.
Weeks where Clara wanted space.
Dominic learned not to interpret distance as betrayal.
Clara learned not to interpret help as ownership.
One evening, someone knocked.
Toby looked up.
“Dominic.”
“He said nine.”
The clock showed 8:59.
“So Dominic.”
Clara opened the door.
He stood holding two coffees.
Old Omega on his wrist.
No tracker.
No replacement watch.
He could afford anything.
He kept the scarred one.
Dominic did not step inside.
He waited.
That pause still mattered.
Clara moved aside.
“Come in.”
Only then did he cross the threshold.
Toby looked at the coffees.
“That smells disgusting.”
“Adulthood includes disappointment.”
“I’m never becoming one.”
“Reasonable.”
Clara laughed.
They ate breakfast for dinner because Toby had requested pancakes.
Dominic’s were slightly better than Victor Rossi’s would have been, though nobody in this story knew that.
After Toby went to bed, Dominic remained at the table.
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Dangerous.”
“I want to ask something.”
Clara waited.
“I don’t want an answer tonight.”
That surprised her.
“Okay.”
Dominic looked toward the hallway.
“Someday, if you and Toby wanted to live somewhere together with me—”
Clara became still.
He continued before she could react.
“Not my house.”
That mattered.
“Not a place I already own.”
More.
“A place we choose.”
Clara studied him.
“And if I never want that?”
“It remains your apartment.”
“And us?”
“I would be disappointed.”
He paused.
“But us does not require your address.”
Clara smiled faintly.
May you like
Years earlier, Dominic solved problems by buying them.
Now he had learned that some doors opened only from the inside.
