Chapter 27: Accidental Doctor Daddy: Chapter 27

The cold slapped my skin the second we stepped outside, but I barely felt it.

I was too busy trying to breathe.

Dom walked beside me, silent, stiff, every inch of him locked down like he was trying not to feel anything at all. The same hands that had been on my body less than an hour ago now hid in his pockets like they didn’t know what to do with themselves.

And I hated it.

Hated the space that stretched between us like a chasm, hated the way I couldn’t read him anymore, hated myself most of all.

I wrapped my coat tighter around me, trying to keep myself from shattering completely. The city lights blurred around us, traffic noise barely registering. All I could hear was my own heartbeat, frantic and desperate, and the pounding thought that I’d ruined everything.

“I didn’t know,” I said, and my voice cracked the second it left my mouth. “I didn’t know who you were that night.”

Dom didn’t look at me. His jaw flexed, but his eyes stayed forward, and I pressed on anyway, because silence was worse than yelling.

Silence meant he was retreating. Pulling away.

“I swear, I didn’t know your last name until the next morning. I woke up and…” My voice trembled, but I pushed through it. “I Googled your company. Just something dumb, like checking out the hot guy I slept with.”

I forced a breath. “And then I saw your name on the About page. And realized who you were. And my stomach dropped.”

I finally stopped walking, because I couldn’t keep moving with all the weight pressing down on me. I turned to him, heart pounding in my throat. “That was the moment I knew. That I’d just slept with…well…” I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.

Dom’s eyes finally met mine. They were dark. Guarded. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it terrified me.

“I panicked,” I whispered. “I didn’t know what to do, so I left. I told myself it was a one-time thing and I’d handle it. That I wouldn’t complicate your life or ruin your relationship with Leo. I didn’t want to be the reason things got worse between you.”

The tears were dangerously close now. “So I ran. I kept my mouth shut. I made a hundred excuses, but the truth is—I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Still, nothing. Just the rise and fall of his chest, sharp and uneven.

“I was willing to do it alone,” I said, barely holding it together. “Raise the girls. Be a single mom. Whatever it took. Because I thought it was better than tearing apart your family.”

The silence between us settled heavy, thick as wet wool in the chilly night air. I could hear the hum of the city just beyond the curb, a cab horn in the distance, the whisper of wind against the building. But all I could feel was Dom—his presence beside me like a storm barely contained in a man’s body.

I kept my arms wrapped tight around myself, clutching the edges of my coat like armor. My breath came out shaky. My confession still hung between us, and I braced for whatever would come next. Yelling. Accusation. Walking away.

But when he finally spoke, his voice wasn’t hard.

It was wrecked.

“I should be thinking about why you didn’t tell me,” he said, not looking at me, his jaw rigid as stone. “That’s what I should be stuck on. That you kept this from me.”

He paused, chest rising like it hurt to breathe.

“But all I can think about… is that night. On the island. When you told me your ex didn’t like touching you. That he didn’t want your curves. That he made you feel like… too much.”

My breath caught. I hadn’t expected that. Not now. Not here.

His eyes found mine then—sharp, dark, burning.

“It was Leo, wasn’t it?” he asked, his voice low, dangerous. “He was the ex who made you feel that way.”

I felt myself nod before I could stop it. The answer pushed past my pride. The shame. The fear.

Dom closed his eyes for half a second, and when he opened them again, something in him had changed. He looked at me like he was seeing everything I’d hidden. Everything I’d tried to carry alone.

“I wanted to find the bastard who made you feel that way,” he whispered. “Back then, I didn’t know who he was. But I felt it. That rage. The second you said it, I wanted to tear him apart.”

Tears burned behind my eyes, but I blinked them back. Because I wasn’t the only one breaking.

He stepped closer, his hand lifting—hovering at my jaw, then lowering like he couldn’t bear not to touch me. His palm found my waist instead, warm and solid.

“No one gets to make you feel like that again,” he said. “Not him. Not anyone.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

I didn’t have words for what that did to me. For how the girl who once stood in front of a mirror and wished herself smaller now felt seen. Not just wanted—but defended.

I nodded, throat tight.

And he nodded, too. Like it wasn’t a question. Like it was a promise.

I barely had time to breathe before he surged forward—closing the space between us with a force that stole the rest of the oxygen from my lungs. His hands gripped my waist like he couldn’t tell if he wanted to anchor me or drag me against him. His jaw was clenched, eyes wild, burning like fire had replaced the calm control he always wore like armor.

“You’re mine, Ella.”

I blinked up at him, heart ricocheting in my chest.

“I don’t care what’s between us and the rest of the world,” he growled, voice low and rough, like it was clawing its way up from someplace buried deep. “I want you. I want our girls. And I’m not walking away.”

He didn’t wait for my answer. Just pulled me flush to his chest and wrapped his coat around my shoulders like a shield. His mouth crashed down on mine—hot, unrelenting, like he was making a vow with every bruising kiss. I melted into him, into the heat and hunger and heartbreak of it all.

But even as my lips parted for him, the fear was still there. Lodged in my chest like glass.

I pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. “Dom, I’m your son’s ex-girlfriend. Do you even hear what you’re saying?”

His hands flexed against my hips. “I hear it.”

“I dated Leo. I slept with Leo. Are you even aware of the fallout this could cause? With your career, your reputation, your son⁠—”

“My son,” he snapped, cutting me off. “My son is a grown man who walked away from something good and didn’t have the sense to know what he lost.”

I flinched, but he didn’t let go.

“I love my son.” His hands cupped my face now, and his voice dropped—dangerously low. “But I care about you. About our daughters. About this life that snuck up and took me by the throat.”

I was breathing too fast. My hands trembled in his coat. “You don’t mean that. You’re upset. This is adrenaline⁠—”

“I’ve never been more fucking sure of anything.”

I searched his eyes, looking for a sign to confirm if he really meant what he was saying.

“Leo may be my son,” he said, voice ragged, “but you… you’re my family now.”

Tears stung the backs of my eyes. His words hit like a match to kindling, lighting up everything inside me that had been cold and afraid and alone for so long.

I wanted to believe him. I wanted this.

But the stakes were so impossibly high.

I stood there, wrapped in his coat and his arms, stunned into silence.

He meant every word.

I could see it in the rawness of his expression, the shake in his voice, the way his hands hadn’t left my body since he’d pulled me close. But even under the heat of his possessive vow, a part of me still trembled. Because words were easy. Reality… wasn’t.

His thumb brushed along my cheekbone, catching the tear I hadn’t even realized had fallen.

“You really mean it,” I whispered, not quite believing it.

“I do.”

I nodded slowly, breath catching in my throat. “Okay,” I said, voice small. “Okay.”

His eyes softened for the first time all night. His forehead pressed to mine. We didn’t kiss. We just stood like that—touching, breathing, clinging to something that felt impossible and inevitable all at once.

And still, under all of that, the truth sat heavy in my chest.

Carrie couldn’t know. Seth definitely couldn’t know.

And Leo… God, would there ever be a right time to tell him?

Dom’s hand rubbed slow circles against my back. We stood there for what felt like forever, caught in that space between hope and fear, between what we wanted and what the world would allow.

Then, his voice rumbled low against the top of my head.

“You know what the worst part of all this is?”

I pulled back just enough to look up at him.

He gave me a crooked, almost-smile. “It goddamn ruined our date.”

A startled laugh escaped me—half gasp, half sob. And somehow, just like that, the tension cracked open.

God help me, I loved this man.