Dom (Alliance #3)

Then he pulls me with him into the church.

The dull murmuring of a large crowd trying to be quiet dulls even more as we start down the aisle.

Memories try to pull me under. Flashes of the worst moments of my life. But I walk alongside Dom, one step at a time.

I work to keep my free hand relaxed at my side.

There are so many people here. Hundreds.

It’s like my dad’s funeral.

A woman smiles at me when my eyes fall on hers.

I give her a small smile back, my throat tightening even more.

A stranger just smiled at me. This is nothing like my dad’s funeral.

Dom dips his chin, acknowledging the people we pass. An older woman reaches out and touches his hand. I do my best to breathe while I make as much eye contact as I’m capable of. Each set of kind eyes twists that barb deeper into my heart.

We keep walking, passing pew after pew, all the way to the front of the church.

And that’s when I finally look forward. At the large photo of a man younger than Dominic. His smiling face, framed in gold, signifying his death.

Oh god, I can’t do this.

Dom lets go of my hand, but before I can scramble to grab it back, he’s pressing his palm against my back, guiding me to the right, into the front row.

The pew is full, except for the first two spots, and the woman seated next to the open spots stands.

“Aunt Dina.” Dominic holds out his hands, and she clasps them. “I want you to be the first to meet my wife.”

What is he doing? Introductions now?

The woman, probably in her sixties, turns to me with red-rimmed eyes.

Oh, sweet Jesus, is this the dead man’s mother?

The woman steps forward, and before I can react, she wraps me in a hug.

I freeze.

For one heartbeat, I freeze.

Then I feel her body trembling against mine, and I hug her back. Holding her tight.

Because this is a clinging hug. One without reservations. One that’s more than a greeting. It’s… real.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper as tears drip off my lashes. “I’m so sorry.”

After a long moment, she pulls back, and I release my grip on her, only for her to place her hands on my cheeks. “Bless you, sweet girl.” She kisses one of my cheeks, then the other.

Dom lays a hand on my shoulder, the movement enough to have the woman, his Aunt Dina, letting me go.

He waits until she’s back in her seat. Then he turns us. So we’re facingeveryone.

Dominic doesn’t say anything.

He doesn’t have to.