Bad Boy Dom by Ellen Harper

he’d wanted to do something nice for me and then just deciding to go out to the bar and pick up some new girl. But when I opened the door, I could clearly hear him upstairs.
     
    “Dom?” I called, throwing my coat in the kitchen. “I’m back!”
     
    “Good timing,” he called back, jumping down the steps two at a time. “I’m glad you made it back.”
     
    “Me too,” I pulled a face, shivering. “It’s so cold outside.”
     
    “What did you see?”
     
    “Uh,” I flushed. “I can’t remember.”
     
    “Michelle, you literally just got home. How are you going to get into med school if you can’t even remember what movie you just watched?”
     
    I stuck out my tongue. “At least, I’m not an asshole.”
     
    Dom looked offended, frowning at me. “Well, come see what this asshole did when you were gone, then.” He turned around and hopped back up the stairs, flicking on the lights. My curiosity grew at last and I followed him up the stairs, careful to avoid tripping. Nothing looked different that I could see, but Dom led me into his room and flicked on the lights. “Ta-da!” He said in a sing-sing voice, waving his arms around in the air.
     
    He’d cleaned and unpacked everything that he brought over, and in the corner stood an easel with a paint set and palette on the floor. There was a picture clipped to the corner of the easel and my heart skipped a beat when I saw that it was a familiar one. Stepping closer, I realized with a shock that it was me . The picture was a few years old, I was standing and laughing at something my dad had said. I was wearing jeans and that tank top that I’d worn over to Domenic’s on that fateful afternoon, and my figure looked good. I used to be skinny , I thought, looking down at my rounder hips. Even though I was mad he’d gone against my word, I honestly couldn’t help but be flattered that he wanted to paint me. At least, he’d chosen a good picture.
     
    “I thought I said no,” I said softly, reaching out and grabbing the picture. I picked it off the easel and brought it closer, looking hard. And this wasn’t from Facebook; I knew suddenly that he must have gone through photo albums and picked it. It was one of the rare photos of me smiling, and at the time, I’d thought I looked horrible. But now, looking at it, I realized that I was pretty.
     
    “Aw, come on, Michelle. Archie would love this as a wedding present.”
     
    “You’re supposed to give a wedding present that reflects the taste of both people, though,” I said, finally putting it back on the easel. “And I don’t think your mom would love a painting of me.”
     
    “Sandy really likes you,” he said, using her first name. “She probably thinks you’re a better child than I am.”
     
    “Domenic, that’s not true. Look at how far you’ve come,” I said, blushing when I realized I’d spoken the last sentence out loud.
     
    He had the grace to laugh and I immediately felt relieved. “Yeah, I know I’ve come a long way,” he admitted, and I relaxed, taking a deep breath.
     
    “Still though,” I protested. “It’s embarrassing. And what if you’re not even any good at portraits? I’m going to look awful!”
     
    “You’ll look fine,” Dom said, showing me his phone. On the screen was a photo of one of his paintings. I recognized Sandy sitting at the piano, looking over her glasses. I couldn’t believe how real it looked; even on the tiny screen, I felt like she was right there in the room with me.
     
    “You’re good,” I breathed, amazed. “That’s perfect. It even feels like her.”
    “Thanks, Michelle.” Domenic sounded sincere and I smiled at him. Maybe it was really possible to rebuild our relationship. Maybe we’d be able to be friends.
     

Chapter Five
     
    Dom and I stood for a long time quietly in his room, gazing at his art. He cleared his throat nervously and said; “I also wanted to unpack for you, to do this. I knew that you wouldn’t be