Dominique was deep in the kind of sleep that felt like falling through clouds, warm, weightless, completely unaware of the world outside his blankets.
His hair was a wild ss, sticking up in every direction, one arm dangling off the edge of the bed, his mouth slightly open. He had been dreaming about sothing pleasant, sothing involving chocolate and possibly a beach, when the sound shattered everything.
His phone was ringing and shrieking and vibrating, dancing across his nightstand like it was possessed. The screen lit up the dark room in harsh blue light, and Dom groaned, pulling his pillow over his head.
It stopped.
He exhaled, sinking back into the warmth.
It started again.
"God damn it," he muttered, his voice thick and muffled by the pillow.
He reached out blindly, his fingers fumbling across the nightstand, knocking over a glass of water that was thankfully empty, sending a stack of books tumbling to the floor. Finally, his hand closed around the phone. He squinted at the screen, but his eyes refused to focus.
He swiped answer without looking.
"Hello?" His voice was hoarse and cracking, still half-buried in sleep.
"You little brat!"
Dominique’s eyes flew open.
His mother’s voice cut through the fog of his sleep like a knife through butter, sharp, clear, and utterly terrifying. He sat up so fast his head spun, the blanket falling away from his chest, his hair sohow getting even ssier in the process.
"Mom?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.
"Don’t ’Mom’ !" Kaelani’s voice was crisp, elegant, even in anger. "I’m at the airport. Co pick up. Quickly."
Dominique blinked, his brain struggling to catch up. "Okay... wait." He shook his head, running a hand through his disastrous hair. "Wait, wait, wait. How did you get here? I thought I was supposed to co with Hazel. We had a plan. A whole plan. With tilines and..."
"Yes, yes, I know about your plan." His mother’s voice was impatient. "But I received an invitation to a healthcare seminar. As chief guest." She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "So I ca here instead."
Dominique stared at the wall, his mouth hanging open. "You’re the chief guest?" he asked.
"Do you know anyone more qualified?" she replied.
He couldn’t argue with that. His mother’s list of achievents was longer than his arm. She had rebuilt faces that others had declared hopeless, pioneered techniques that were now taught in dical schools across the world. If anyone deserved to be chief guest, it was her.
But still...
"Mom, you could have told ," he said. "A warning. A text. A carrier pigeon. Anything."
"And miss the look on your face when I showed up unannounced?" He could hear the smile in her voice. "Never."
Dominique groaned, flopping back against his pillows. "I hate you," he mumbled.
"You love ," she said. "Now get out of bed and co get . I’ll send you my location."
The line went dead.
Dominique stared at his phone for a long mont, the screen already dark. Then he let out a long, dramatic sigh and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
His mother was here unannounced.
He looked at his reflection in the dark window. His wild hair, his sleepy eyes, the pillow crease still visible on his cheek. He looked like he had been dragged through a hedge backward.
He had exactly thirty minutes to make himself presentable.
He groaned again, dragging himself toward the bathroom.
This was going to be a long day.
Dominique drove through the early morning traffic, his fingers tapping impatiently on the steering wheel. The sun was just beginning to rise, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold, but he barely noticed. His mind was elsewhere. On his mother, on the last ti he had seen her, on all the years he had stayed away.
He hadn’t been avoiding her. Not exactly. Life had just gotten in the way. Modeling, traveling, building a new life far from the palace walls. But now, driving toward the airport, he felt a knot tighten in his chest.
He missed her.
The airport was busy even at this hour. Travelers rushed past with suitcases and coffee cups, taxis honked, announcents echoed through the terminal. Dom parked the car and walked toward the arrivals gate, his heart pounding.
And then he saw her.
Kaelani stood near the baggage claim, a small suitcase at her feet, her posture perfect. She was wearing a simple cream-colored coat over a black dress, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, her face bare of makeup. She looked like she had stepped out of a magazine, like she had been photoshopped into reality.
People were staring.
A businessman nearly walked into a pillar, his eyes fixed on her. A group of teenagers whispered among themselves, their phones raised. A mother tugged her child out of the way, her own gaze lingering.
Kaelani didn’t seem to notice. She was looking at her phone, her brow slightly furrowed, her lips pursed in concentration.
His mom was beautiful. The kind of beautiful that made people stop and stare, that made them wonder who she was, that made them want to know her story. She had cheekbones that could cut glass, skin that glowed without a drop of makeup, and eyes that held the wisdom of every patient she had ever healed.
That was why his father had fallen deep for her. Not just because of her face, but because of the fire behind it.
Dom walked toward her, his footsteps slow.
"Mom," he said softly.
She looked up, and her face transford. The stern expression lted away, replaced by sothing soft, sothing warm, sothing that made Dom’s eyes sting.
"My boy," she said, opening her arms.
He walked into them, letting her hold him, breathing in her scent. Lavender and sothing floral, sothing that slled like ho. She was smaller than he rembered, or maybe he had just grown taller. Either way, she fit perfectly against his chest.
"You’re late," she murmured against his shoulder.
"Traffic," he said.
"Liar," she replied.
He laughed, pulling back to look at her face. The years had been kind to her. There were a few fine lines around her eyes, a touch of silver at her temples, but she was still the most beautiful woman in his eyes.
"I missed you," he said.
She cupped his face in her hands, her dark blue eyes searching his. "I missed you too," she said softly.
They stood there for a mont, ignoring the people staring, the world rushing past. Then Kaelani stepped back, smoothing her coat.
"Well," she said, her voice brisk. "Take to your ho. I’m tired."
Dom grinned, picking up her suitcase. "Yes, ma’am," he said.
As they walked toward the exit, people couldn’t help but stare at Dominique and his mother. They made a striking pair, both tall, both elegant, both carrying themselves with the kind of confidence that ca from good genes and better upbringing. A woman whispered to her friend. A man fumbled with his phone, trying to take a photo without being noticed.
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