Between Love and Loathing: Dom and Clara's Fake Dating Story

With every happy ending, there’s a new beginning, and with every up there's a down, a yin to the yang, an opposite to attract.

“You hate that you love me?” I whispered.

“Absolutely. I loathe how much I love you, Clara. I hate color, and yet I’m obsessed with everything you wear. I don’t like to eat sugar, but I’ll devour anything you put on a plate in front of me. I’m exhausted, but I’ll stay awake thinking about you just to catch one more thought of you running through my mind. What is that? Love? Because I loathe it. Loathe that I know I can’t live without it, that I want it for the rest of my life with every fiber of my being.”

“Well, I loathe that I love you too.”

“I mean it. You think Valentino will survive without his precious restaurant up there? You go on another date with him, I’ll close it down. I’ll destroy him in any way I know how.” I tsked to chastise him but he wasn’t listening. He was still pacing. But then he stopped to glare right into my eyes. “You’ve brought out my emotions, good and bad. I’m not proud of it, but I’ve owned it. I loathe you, little fighter, and that’s how I know I love you.”

“But you’re not going to get it, Clara, because I’ll kill another man. Do you get that? I’m no better than the men I’ve judged who lost their tempers in jealousy. And I’m not joking with you about it.”

“You hated me and a lot of the things I did when I first moved here,” I reminded him but a smile was forming on my face that I couldn’t hide because a feeling was growing in me that I couldn’t hide either: trust and comfort along with my love. I realized Dominic created perfection for me, did all this for me. And he did it for me despite the hell I gave him.

“Hated you?” he asked, taking a step toward me.

“Well, yeah. I don’t know.” I shrugged.

“Don’t know?” He smiled as he rocked back on his heels and stuck his hands in his trouser pockets before he said quietly, “You know, when I heard the will being read, I hated that I couldn’t get rid of your bakery the second it was put in my resort. I hated that you tried to infect the rest of my resort with your flair. I hated how I agreed. I hate that now whenever I walk in that place, I smell your signature cupcakes and your damn coffee that I literally crave. I hated that I went to bed wondering where you were, I hated that I woke up searching for your body next to mine, I hated you. I hate that I hurt you, I hate that I can’t take it back, that I can’t let you go, that I’m not even considering it at this point. I hate that you deserve someone better than me.”

Love is a risk. We might hate taking the risk but we won’t feel the love unless we do.

“So, when I get down on one knee, will you loathe saying yes?”

I bit my lip and then smiled as I said, “I will. But at least I’m owning it.”

“I was there when you fell and fainted, okay?” I closed my eyes tight for a second, reliving how it felt like she could slip through my fingers now, how I had to make sure she didn’t. “I’m here now. I need you to let me handle this, because I know maybe your family didn’t in the past, maybe you’ve felt like an afterthought or undeserving or like an idea, Clara. But to me, you’re not. You’re my only thought. Does that make sense? Let me have you for real now, okay?”

“They weren’t lies, Clara.” My teeth clenched together. “We’re not a lie. Take it back.”

“I won’t,” she whispered. “Because I don’t know. You said you wanted to believe we were meant to be together on the beach that night. You didn’t say you did believe it, that you would fight for it, that you would fight for me.”

She tried to stand up in her anger, but I caught her wrist before she did, and she sat back down to listen to me. “You think I haven’t been falling too? Of course, everything was real, even when I didn’t want it to be. You’re the damn light in my world that I didn’t want. You. Nothing else. I told you that. I knew I was going to be that black hole that snuffed out your light, babe. I didn’t expect you to instead explode within me and fight off all the darkness.”

“I don’t think I can love a woman like I loved the idea of her,” His gaze turned to me, and I saw the desolate emptiness, the sorrow, and the pain. “I don’t want to love someone like I did her … not ever again. I risked my career, hurt people, hurt her, and lost the idea of something I wanted more than life itself.”

“She knows all your buttons, it seems.”

“My weaknesses too.” He dragged a finger up my arm, and I shuddered. I hated that I didn’t pull away, not even when we were talking about her. “I wanted the perfect life with her. We’d mapped it out. I thought she wanted that too. Now, maybe she does.”