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I appreciate his attempts to help. I really do. I know I look like a stressed-out mess of a woman, and battling these pregnancy hormones doesn’t help.
But I mean it when I say it—I have to do this.
I have to confront my parents and cut the cords once and for all.
Pasha is going to be gone for the weekend on some last-minute trip that came up. He seemed weirdly uncertain about it when he told me. But he did bring me cannolis for breakfast. So I forgave him mid-bite and told him to have a safe flight.
I don’t know when or how the idea to confront my parents while he’s gone came up. Maybe it was that I needed to find something to do that wasn’t nesting-related. An excuse to get out of the house.
But whatever the cause, here I am, nervously fiddling with my phone while Dominik does his best to reassure me.
“Are you sure you want me to wait before I contact Ms. Chekhov?”
I nod. “I know they worry, but Sofi and Mak need to stay out of this. I can handle it.”
“As you wish, ma’am.”
When we arrive at the restaurant, Dominik hops out of the car to hold my door open for me. I have to admit, I do need the extra help. Baby Chekhov is making sitting down and standing up increasingly difficult.
But instead of driving away to park, Dominik tosses his keys to the valet and offers me his arm. “I’ll be nearby if you need me.”
“Dom…”
“With respect, Ms. Covington—and believe me, I have a shit ton of respect for you—you’ll be able to handle The Boss no matter what happens in there. But me? He’ll have my nuts in a blender if I let anything happen to you.”
I have to stifle my laugh to keep from making a scene. “Fair.”
We reach the glass double doors, but Dominik pauses.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
He turns to look at me. “I didn’t have the greatest parents growing up, either. Dad was a drunk, and my mother… she let him walk all over us.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s in the past. I’m just mentioning it now because it might be good for you to know you’re not alone. Physically or emotionally.”
Warmth touches my heart, and I smile at him. “Thanks, Dom. I really appreciate you.”
He shrugs it off with a tiny smile. “Yeah, well… anyway. You go in there, and you remind them who you are now.”
At that, I scoff. “I’m still figuring that out.”
And once I cut them off forever, I’ll be picking up the pieces of my identity for… ever, probably.
“Bullshit.” He smirks at my shocked face. “You’re Pasha Chekhov’s woman. If he’s the king of the underworld, you’re his queen. Don’t let them forget it.” He nudges me forward as he pulls a door open. “Don’t you forget it, either.”
It’s impossible to not hold my head up high after that pep talk. True to his word, Dominik takes a spot in a far corner of the restaurant bar to give me space to handle my business.
If only my parents could give me space, too. They descend on me like vultures the second we make eye contact across the room.
Dammit. I was hoping they’d be late. Stuck in traffic, emergency colonoscopy. Something to give me a bit more time to prepare for the ugliness to come.
“Is this really the best you can do?” Stewart curls his nose with disdain at our surroundings. “Really, Daphne. We raised you to have better tastes than this.”
I gesture to the table they just rudely vacated. “If you don’t like what’s on the menu, you’re welcome to take us somewhere else. But you’re paying.”
That shuts him up. He hasn’t been forthcoming about their financial situation, but I can tell by the wear in his suit that a lot of corners need to be cut if they’re going to maintain some semblance of their former life.
