Chapter 41: Accidental Doctor Daddy: Chapter 41

He’s here.

The entire kitchen felt like it was spinning. My brain hollowed out with one thought rattling around in it. The universe has a sense of humor.

Marcus took a step toward me. “Chef, need me to get him out of here?” A cleaver gleamed in his hand.

Still staring at Dom, I whispered, “No.”

He glanced between the both of us, seeming to understand. “Go on break. We’ve got this. Take the rest of the day off if⁠—”

I barely heard him. My lungs burned as if I’d forgotten to breathe, locked in a stare with the man I’d torn myself away from. Dom’s hair was a bit longer, with a few more strands of gray at the temples. His jacket hung open, revealing a rumpled shirt beneath. He looked as disoriented as I felt, his eyes flicking from me to the door as if he couldn’t decide whether to bolt or close the distance between us.

“Marcus, take over the line. Tony, watch the pass.” My heart hammered, and I felt sure they could see it pounding beneath my chef’s coat.

Dom took a half-step closer, swallowing hard. “Ella⁠—”

Without a word, I grabbed his sleeve, leading him away from prying eyes. The only place that made sense was the side door leading to the stairwell. He followed silently, tension radiating off him in waves.

He found me. I didn’t know what it meant, and I didn’t want to speculate. I had to know why.

We emerged into the stairwell, the metal door cutting off the kitchen’s noise. The hush blanketed my ears as I stared at him, adrenaline coursing. “I live upstairs,” I blurted, breathless. “We can’t talk here…”

“Lead the way,” he said, voice rough, as if talking cost him great effort.

I started up the stairs, my chef’s clogs echoing on the concrete steps, Dom just behind me. It felt surreal. My heart pounded, each step an effort not to glance over my shoulder at his face, because if I did, I might cry.

At my door, I fumbled with the keys, my fingers shaking. The lock gave, and I pushed the door open to reveal my modest, yet larger-than-Manhattan apartment. Shutting it behind us, I realized how quiet it was—no nanny, no babies. They must be at Martha’s place next door. Small favors.

He stood in the entryway, coat still in hand, scanning the living room. “It’s…nice.”

“Rent is included in the job,” I said automatically, crossing my arms to still the trembling in my hands. “The nanny is watching the girls right now…they’re next door.”

His gaze snapped to me at the mention of the twins. For an agonizing moment, we just stared. I wanted to explain everything, or maybe I wanted to scream at him for appearing unannounced or just collapse in his arms. My thoughts whirled so wildly I couldn’t pin down a single one.

His gaze snapped to me at the mention of the twins. For an agonizing moment, we just stared. I wanted to explain everything, or maybe I wanted to scream at him for appearing unannounced or just collapse in his arms. My thoughts whirled so wildly I couldn’t pin down a single one.

And God, he looked so good. Taller than memory. Bigger, somehow. His slate-gray dress shirt was crisp beneath a dark, tailored jacket that hugged his broad shoulders and tapered perfectly at his waist. The open collar revealed a flash of skin, and the faint shadow along his jaw made him look rougher, hungrier.

There was more silver in his hair now—at his temples, near his sideburns—but it only made him more in control. More manly.

But it was his eyes—those dark, stormy eyes—that did me in.He looked like a man who had lost everything… and wasn’t going to lose one more thing.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Words seemed too complicated, too messy. And apparently, Dom felt the same.

“I don’t…”

“I’m not…”

Silence fell again. He wasn’t screaming at me, angry for taking his daughters away. He wasn’t being snide or saying something bitter about me leaving him. He stood before me, sadness and longing on his face. A man steeped in the same pain as me.

One minute, we were two people in a silent apartment. The next, we were colliding—lips on lips, arms around each other as though we’d spent months swimming in an endless ocean and finally reached shore. I gasped into the kiss, tears stinging my eyes, because it was Dom, my Dom, here, and I’d missed him with an ache that never dulled.

He clutched my waist, pulling me close, and I gripped the front of his shirt like a lifeline. My mind screamed that this was a bad idea—we needed to talk first. But the heat of his mouth on mine obliterated logic.

I whimpered, pressing up against him, letting the raw need overshadow everything else. We stumbled backward, crashing into the couch. I barely remembered letting go of his jacket before we were tugging at each other’s clothes, breath ragged.

I tugged off my chef’s coat, feeling his hands slip under my shirt, palms exploring my skin like a man starved. A moan tore from my throat, and I could feel him trembling, too. Longing ignited into a frantic hunger. Words weren’t enough. This was primal, unstoppable. He tried to speak, maybe say my name, but I cut him off with another desperate kiss, pouring all the sorrow and guilt into it.

Buttons popped. I half-laughed, half-cried as I realized we were tearing at each other’s clothes like teenagers in a rush. His stubble grazed my chest, and I breathed in the faint smell of the aftershave I remembered so well, feeling tears burn behind my eyelids.

Somehow we found our way onto the rug in front of the couch. I had no sense of direction, only the press of Dom’s skin against mine, his breath hitching as we finished stripping each other bare.

His hands framed my waist, reverent and hungry. “God, I missed these curves,” he murmured against my neck. “I used to wake up aching for them. For you.”

His cock pressed hot and thick against my entrance, and I gasped at the feel of him—familiar and overwhelming. He didn’t ask the question or wait for an answer.

Neither did I. The moment he was in position, I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him close, guiding him as he thrust into me.

My body stretched around him, a perfect, aching fullness that knocked the air from my lungs. I clung to him, hips rolling to meet every desperate drive of his. This wasn’t slow. It wasn’t sweet. It was raw and furious and so full of feeling it stole my words.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. “You feel like heaven, Ella.”

We moved like we were making up for lost time, every snap of his hips saying never again. His mouth found mine in frantic kisses, then my neck, then the curve of my breast. I arched into him, cried out when his thrusts hit deep, deeper, like he was trying to fill the hollow space he’d left behind.

He slowed only to look down at me—really look.

And there, I saw it on his face.

The heartbreak of what I’d done to him.

I knew that expression. I saw it every morning in the mirror.

I took his face in my hands, kissed him long and deep, slow and aching, while his hips kept moving—slower now, every stroke languid and bittersweet, like he couldn’t bear to let me go just yet.

Then I tasted salt.

Not my tears this time.

His.

Something inside me cracked open, and I wrapped him up in me, arms and legs locking around him like a vise, as if I could press us back into the time we lost. I didn’t know what this meant for us. I didn’t know if it fixed anything.

All I knew was that I needed him this way.

I needed him to be mine.

Even if only for this moment… and maybe the next one.

“Harder,” I whispered, breathless. “Please.”

His control snapped. He drove into me with a force that made the floor groan beneath us, his hand sliding under my thigh to hitch my leg higher around his waist. The angle hit deeper, sharper, right where I needed him most. I cried out, and he swallowed it with a kiss—messy, desperate, full of everything we hadn’t said.

The rhythm built, faster now, frantic. His name fell from my lips over and over, each syllable rougher than the last, until I was gasping, legs trembling around him.

“I’m close,” I choked out.

“I’ve got you,” he said, driving harder, deeper, until stars exploded behind my eyelids and I shattered around him.

My orgasm tore through me like a wave, my whole body shuddering with release. A thousand unspoken emotions broke free with it, spilling from me in gasps and sobs and clinging hands. He followed, chest crushing against mine, trembling as he emptied himself inside me.

His breath hitched against my neck, rough and ragged.

Then we collapsed, chest to chest, limbs tangled, our hearts still pounding like they couldn’t believe we’d finally closed the distance.

Minutes passed in a haze of gasps and tangled legs. Eventually, I found the strength to shift onto my side. The late afternoon light filtered through the curtains. Dom’s eyes locked onto mine, brimming with tears, and my own did the same. We didn’t speak, just stared for a while.

Finally, he broke the silence, voice hoarse. “Ella…”

The guilt slammed me. “What…what are you doing here?”

He exhaled shakily, still half-lying across my thigh. “I was in Chicago to finalize the sale of my company shares. And to figure out my future. I ended up at the restaurant by pure chance.” A weak laugh escaped him, overshadowed by sorrow. “I think the universe is laughing at me.”

I clenched my jaw, curling my fingers against the rug. He sold his shares? That was always part of his plan, once the hospital promotion was locked in. My plan worked. He got what he always wanted. I swallowed. “I guess congratulations are in order. You must be thrilled about the promotion⁠—”

He shook his head. “I quit, actually. No admin position. Nothing.”

My stomach lurched. Panic churned. “Because of me?”

He pushed himself upright slightly, cradling my cheek. “Yes and no. Because losing you made me realize what I was doing—sacrificing everything for ambition. I’d done it once before, with my wife, and I lost her without noticing how sick she was, thanks to working all the time. Then I lost you and the twins because there were too many conflicts between us and the hospital…it all clicked.”

I stared, tears threatening again. “Dom, I…that was exactly what I wanted to prevent. I didn’t want to ruin your career or your family life⁠—”

He gave a shaky laugh, leaning in to rest his forehead against mine. “Ella, you didn’t ruin anything. You saved me from repeating the same damn mistakes. I lost Jodie in part because I was too blind, too wrapped up in my ambition to see her illness. And I lost you because of it, too. But it took losing you to see the pattern.”

I felt sick. “But you loved it there.”

“The hospital was a job. The company was a business. Loving something that can’t love you back leaves you lonely. So I left….the hospital, the device company.”

Warmth and guilt warred in my chest. I’d told myself I was doing the right thing by leaving. But now, I wasn’t sure. “I feel like I painted you into a corner, and I never meant to do that.”

“I needed that wake-up call. History repeats itself because we do the same stupid shit over and over, and that’s what I was doing. You forced me to see what truly matters—family. Now, I have the resources to live without working another day if that’s what I choose.” He swallowed hard. “If that’s what my family chooses.”

That word clung to me. I let out a ragged sob, tears spilling again. “Dom…I left so you wouldn’t resent me, so you could fix things with Leo, keep your career track. I never imagined you’d quit everything. I never wanted you to do that for me⁠—”

“Not for you,” he interjected, a fierce gentleness in his tone. “For us. For me. For all the times I put work before the people who mattered.” He stroked my hair, kissing away the tears on my cheek. “Leo and I…we’re on better terms now. I apologized for what I’d done, for our past, for all of it. We’re trying to move forward. Gina’s good, like always. She’s happy I’m making these changes. She thinks they’re a long time coming. They want me to be happy. And…I’m only happy with you.”

His arms enveloped me as I trembled, face buried against his chest. I wanted him again so badly, but we had to talk this out. Didn’t we? At first, I let him hold me. Talking be damned.

Eventually, though, the words came. “I never wanted you to lose your dream. But if…if that wasn’t your dream after all⁠—”

He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “My dream was to do good, to save lives, to feel purpose. I’ve done that, and I can still do that, maybe in volunteer work or philanthropic efforts. But the admin role, the corporate battles…that part of my life is over, and I’m glad for it. Now, I can spend time with the people who matter most.”

I gulped and met his eyes with a teasing smirk. “Gina and Leo?”

He met my smirk with his own. “And you. And our girls. If you’ll have me.”

My heart fluttered, tears still leaking. “I…love you. I never stopped. But I thought staying would cost you everything you care about.”

“You didn’t cost me a thing,” he insisted. “You made me see what was important. I want to know my daughters. I want us to be a family, in whatever shape we can manage.”

“I want that, too.” Fresh tears blurred my vision. After a moment, I pulled back slightly, a watery laugh escaping my lips. “You realize we’re naked on my living room floor, right?”

His gaze flicked downward, realization dawning with a faint smile. “That would explain the rubber duckie under my ass. We might want to move. Or get dressed.”

Once I slipped on some clothes—an old T-shirt and comfy pants—I turned to find him seated on the edge of my bed in his trousers, buttoning his shirt. I came up behind him, pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder. “So,” I whispered, settling beside him. “What now?”

“You tell me. I’d love to see the twins as soon as possible. Then…maybe we figure out if we can relocate, or if we stay in Chicago, or whatever.”

I blinked tears away, nodding slowly. “They’re next door with Martha, my nanny.” My chest squeezed with simultaneous fear and excitement. Then I remembered the restaurant. “But first, I should probably tell the kitchen I’m not returning today.”

“Marcus, right? My competition with a cleaver.”

I swatted his arm lightly. “He’s staff, not your competition.”

“You sure you won’t trade me in for a younger model?”

I laughed. “Nope. Same question.”

He snorted. “Never.”

“Then, we’re good.” It shorted out my brain that he was in my apartment. “Dom…I can’t believe you’re here.”

He cupped my cheek, brushing away a stray tear. “I can’t believe I found you. Or that fate brought us back together again.” He paused, swallowing. “It keeps doing that.”

“Yeah. It seems to.” The knot of guilt slowly eased, replaced by a cautious euphoria. Maybe this really is meant to be.

We sat there a long time, just breathing in each other’s presence. Eventually, I rose, grabbed my phone to shoot Marcus a quick text to say I wasn’t coming back today. “Should we…go see the twins?”

“Please.”

Just before stepping out, he reached over my shoulder and closed the door. I turned. “What is it?”

“One more thing. I’m sorry I lied to you.”

“What?”

He blew out a breath. “I told you in the hospital the day the girls were born that I’d never let you out of my sight. But that wasn’t true.” He paused, thinking, searching. “I did. I thought everything was good between us, so I took you for granted⁠—”

“Dom, it wasn’t like that⁠—”

“I did, Ella. I won’t make that mistake again.” He pressed his forehead to mine, breath unsteady. “I love you. And I won’t let you out of my sight. In a healthy, respectful way.”

A shaky laugh escaped me. With that, I opened the door, my heart pounding with anticipation. We stepped into the hallway, ready to introduce Dom to the life he never got to share, but hopefully would from this moment on.

Because sometimes, second chances do exist, and maybe we’d just found ours.