Breaking point

The warmth of the gala lingered with Lena as she and Dominic returned to the penthouse that night. The image of their slow dance, his hand firm against her back, and the way his eyes had softened when they locked onto hers refused to leave her mind. But reality was quick to intrude.

They had barely stepped inside when Dominic's phone buzzed. He pulled it out, his expression darkening as he read the message.

"Is everything okay?" Lena asked hesitantly, setting her purse on the console table.

"It's work," he said curtly, already heading toward his office. "I'll be up late."

Lena watched him go, her chest tightening. It was always the same—just when she felt they were making progress, Dominic pulled away. She wanted to believe the gala had meant something to him, that the connection she'd felt hadn't been one-sided. But his retreat felt like a door slamming shut between them.

She sighed and headed to the bedroom, determined not to let it bother her. But as the hours dragged on, sleep eluded her. Finally, she slipped out of bed and padded down the hallway, pausing outside Dominic's office.

The door was slightly ajar, and she could hear the low hum of his voice. Curious, she leaned closer.

"…I don't care how much it costs. Fix it," Dominic was saying, his tone sharp. "No, I don't want her involved. I'll handle it myself."

Lena frowned. Who was he talking about? And why did it feel like he was trying to shield her from something?

Before she could think better of it, she pushed the door open. Dominic looked up, startled, and quickly ended the call.

"Lena," he said, his voice laced with irritation. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep," she admitted, crossing her arms. "Who were you talking to?"

"It's none of your concern," he replied, standing to face her.

"Don't do that," she said, her voice rising. "Don't shut me out, Dominic. If this marriage is going to work, you need to stop treating me like an outsider."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's business. That's all you need to know."

"Business?" she echoed incredulously. "Do you realize how often you use that word to push me away? Everything is always 'business' with you. But I'm not one of your employees, Dominic. I'm your wife."

The word hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.

Dominic's jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he might argue. But then he turned away, his shoulders tense. "You don't understand the pressure I'm under," he said quietly.

"Then help me understand," Lena pressed, stepping closer. "Let me in, Dominic. I want to be here for you, but you have to let me."

He shook his head, his voice laced with frustration. "You think it's that simple? My decisions affect thousands of people, Lena. I don't have the luxury of letting my guard down—not even with you."

His words felt like a slap, and Lena took a step back, her heart sinking. "I see," she said softly. "Then maybe I'm wasting my time trying to reach you."

Dominic turned to face her, a flicker of regret in his eyes. But before he could respond, Lena spun on her heel and walked out of the room.

The following days were a blur of silence and avoidance. Dominic threw himself into his work, while Lena focused on her own projects, their interactions reduced to polite but distant exchanges.

But the tension between them reached its breaking point one evening when Lena received an unexpected call from her father.

"Lena, I need you to come home," he said, his voice strained.

"What's wrong?" she asked, panic rising.

"It's your mother. She's in the hospital," he explained. "The doctors say it's serious."

Lena's heart plummeted. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

She ended the call and immediately began packing a bag. Dominic entered the room just as she was zipping it shut.

"What's going on?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

"My mother's in the hospital," Lena said, brushing past him. "I need to go."

"I'll come with you," he offered, but Lena shook her head.

"No," she said firmly. "This is my family, Dominic. I don't need your help."

He frowned, clearly taken aback by her tone. "Lena, I—"

"Save it," she interrupted, her voice trembling. "You've made it clear that you don't want me to be part of your world. So don't expect me to let you into mine."

Dominic stood frozen as she grabbed her bag and walked out the door, the sound of it closing behind her echoing in the empty penthouse.

As the days passed, Dominic found himself consumed by guilt. He replayed their argument over and over in his mind, each time feeling the weight of his mistakes more acutely. He hated how he had hurt her, how he had let his own fears and insecurities push her away.

When he finally worked up the courage to call her, she didn't answer. The silence was deafening, and for the first time, Dominic realized how much he needed her.

He wasn't ready to give up—not on their marriage, and not on her.

Dominic didn't know how to fix what was broken between them, but he knew one thing for certain: he wasn't going to let her go without a fight.