Page 19 of Say My Name

The server approaches. Dominic changes the subject until she places the next plates and leaves. He wants an answer, but not enough to make me talk in front of a stranger.

“When did he become your partner?” Dominic asks.

“A little later.”

“Professionally?”

“And personally.”

His fingers close around the base of his glass.

“I loved him. I trusted him. Over time, my plans started fitting around his ...because he always had a reason why his way made more sense. He knew the right people. He had more experience. He could open doors, so when he told me an opportunity wasn’t right or that I should wait, I listened.”

“Did he ask you to leave your job?”

“No. It wasn’t one dramatic demand. I would have recognized that.” I look down at the table. “It happened a decision at a time. A project I didn’t take because it interfered with something he needed. A connection I let him manage because he already knew the person. Plans I changed because his schedule mattered more. Every compromise sounded reasonable while I was making it.”

The lines around Dominic’s mouth tighten. “And when the relationship ended?”

“He used what he knew.”

“How?”

There’s a low, sharp edge to the question.

I straighten in my chair. “I’m not giving you all of that tonight.”

He looks at me for a second, then nods. “All right.”

No argument. He accepts the line exactly where I put it.

I let out a breath. “He had professional influence over me, and he made it clear that access could disappear. He knew which insecurities to use and exactly how much of my future I had allowed to depend on what he’d promised.”

“Did he threaten you?”

“Not in a way I could put in writing.”

Dominic looks down at the table. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet and level.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not telling you because I want sympathy.”

“I know.”

“I rebuilt everything. My reputation is mine. My title is mine. I bought my condo myself, and no one gets to decide whether I keep my career or the life I’ve made.”

“I know that too.”

I almost tell him he doesn’t because he wasn’t there. Then I remember the interview. Dominic offered me a position because I found errors that his own team missed. Every promotion that followed came with expectations I exceeded, and he never once treated me like Cliff’s little sister he had rescued.

He has never taken credit for what I built here.

“What do you want now?” he asks.

The question is so simple I answer without preparing a safer version.

“A child.”