part 29 :breaking point

It had been a week since Fiona's first therapy session, and the clarity she had been slowly building was tested the moment she stepped into the café. The warm, familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, the hum of chatter around her creating a sense of comfort she hadn't realized she needed. She had come to meet her boy best friend, Adam, who had always been her constant—her rock through everything. But today, something felt different.

As she walked through the bustling café, her heart began to race, a familiar tightness building in her chest. She wasn't sure why, but a sense of unease settled over her as she made her way through the crowd. And then, as if pulled by an invisible force, her eyes locked with a figure sitting in the far corner.

Dominic.

He was sitting alone, his posture relaxed, but there was an intensity in his stillness that made her heart skip a beat. His eyes were fixed on his phone, but the weight of his presence felt like it had the power to shift the atmosphere around them. Fiona's breath caught in her throat. She had been avoiding him, avoiding this very moment, but here he was, as if fate had decided to throw her back into the fire.

Adam, noticing the sudden stillness in Fiona's movements, followed her gaze. "Fiona…?" His voice carried a note of concern, but she didn't respond. Her legs seemed to carry her forward of their own accord, as if they had a mind of their own, pulling her toward him.

Dominic looked up just as she reached his table. His face softened when their eyes met, and for a moment, Fiona saw a flicker of something—regret, maybe. But there was no anger, no defensiveness. Just the weight of unsaid things, of unfinished business hanging between them.

"Fiona," Dominic said softly, his voice low and tentative, "I didn't expect to see you here."

Fiona felt her breath catch in her throat again. She wanted to run, to turn around and pretend she hadn't seen him. But her feet felt glued to the floor, her body locked in place as if by some invisible force. She swallowed hard, forcing her voice to work.

"I didn't expect to see you, either," she managed to say, her words quieter than she intended, the vulnerability of the situation creeping up on her. She wasn't sure what she wanted—what she even should want. But right now, standing in front of Dominic, she felt like she had no choice but to face the reality of the situation.

Adam, ever the protective friend, stepped up beside her without a word. He didn't need to say anything—his mere presence was enough to convey that he was watching over her, making sure she was okay. There was something comforting in that, something grounding. But even with Adam by her side, the tension between Fiona and Dominic was palpable, thick and suffocating in the air.

Dominic's eyes flicked to Adam for a moment, then back to Fiona. His expression was a mix of regret and something else—something softer, but still guarded.

"I know I hurt you, Fiona," he said, his voice strained, as though the words were heavy on his tongue. "I… I've been thinking about it."

Fiona's heart raced now, faster than before, and she felt the urge to turn away—to run. She didn't want to be here, didn't want to listen to more half-hearted apologies that meant nothing. But she stood her ground. She wasn't going to run anymore, not from him, not from anyone.

"Thinking about it?" Fiona repeated, her voice wavering with a mixture of pain and anger. "You don't get to just… think about it." Her words grew stronger, her chest tightening as she spoke. "You walked away without giving me a chance. You pushed me to choose, and then you vanished. You don't just think about something like that. You act on it."

Dominic's jaw tightened, his eyes flashing briefly with regret. But Fiona wasn't done. She couldn't let him off that easily. Not anymore.

"I gave you everything," she continued, her voice growing steadier with each word. "And you just disappeared. You don't get to walk back into my life now, expecting everything to be okay. I've spent too long letting you dictate the terms. But not anymore."

Dominic didn't speak for a long moment. He didn't reach for her, didn't try to pull her back into his orbit. He just sat there, silent, as if the weight of her words had knocked the wind out of him.

Adam, never one to hold back when it came to protecting Fiona, spoke up. His voice was calm, but firm, carrying the weight of his loyalty to her.

"She's right," Adam said, his eyes locked on Dominic. "She's not your backup plan, man. You can't just show up when it's convenient for you, expecting everything to fall into place."

Dominic didn't argue. The fight drained out of him as he sat there, taking in Adam's words. He seemed to deflate in front of them, his posture slumping in resignation. There was no more fire in his eyes, just the quiet admission of defeat.

"I'll leave you both alone," Dominic muttered, standing up slowly from the table. As he walked away, Fiona couldn't help but feel a mixture of relief and something else she couldn't quite place—something that felt like a door finally closing, but also leaving her standing at the edge of something new.

Adam turned to Fiona, his expression softening as he saw the uncertainty in her eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked gently, his hand resting on her shoulder.

Fiona nodded, though her insides felt twisted, the emotions churning inside her. "Yeah. But I'm… I'm scared," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Adam pulled her into a hug, his arms wrapping around her in the way she needed more than anything in that moment. She melted into him, letting the warmth of his embrace wash over her, grounding her in the reality of what had just happened.

"I know," he whispered, his voice steady and reassuring. "But you're doing the right thing. You've been through enough. Now it's time for you."

Fiona took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment sink in. The world outside the café continued on, unaware of the battle she'd just fought within herself. But deep down, she knew this was the beginning of her real journey. Not toward Dominic. Not toward Damien. Not toward anyone else.

But toward her.