Chapter 129

"Yes, Mom. It's me," Dominic answered.

Evelyn choked on her water, coughing violently.

He actually called her mother Mom!

"Here's the situation. Evelyn mentioned she's craving your cooking, but it's not convenient for me to bring her to your place. I was thinking of reserving a private dining room nearby. Would you be able to come and prepare a meal there?" Dominic's voice was smooth, almost tender.

"Of course! Just send me the address, and I'll be there," Clara replied without hesitation.

"Thank you," Dominic said before ending the call and forwarding the location.

Evelyn stared at him, utterly stunned.

"Are you out of your mind? I was just making an offhand comment! And you actually summoned my mother to cook for me?" Her voice rose in disbelief. "Since when do you take anything I say seriously? What's gotten into you?"

"From now on, I will," Dominic said, his gaze intense, voice firm.

Heat rushed to Evelyn's cheeks, her pulse hammering so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

"Don't!" she protested. "What if, next time we argue, I say I want you dead? Are you just going to hand me a knife?"

"Must you always assume we'll be fighting?"

"Because we always disagree! That's normal, isn't it? Show me two people who see eye-to-eye on everything."

"Maybe they exist. We just haven't met them."

Evelyn scoffed. "I wouldn’t want someone who agrees with everything I say. Where’s the fun in that?" Her fingers fidgeted, her ears turning pink. "A little friction keeps things interesting."

Dominic studied her, his dark eyes unreadable.

"If you prefer someone more agreeable, go find them. I won’t stop you," she added, suddenly defensive under his scrutiny.

"There are more important things in my life than relationships," she muttered.

"I didn’t say anything. Stop putting words in my mouth," Dominic snapped, frustration lacing his tone.

Evelyn took another sip of water, avoiding his gaze.

"You went too far, dragging my mother into this. She’s not your personal chef. If I were her, I’d be furious."

"You’ve never been a mother, Evelyn. You don’t understand how she feels."

What he meant was simple—Clara wouldn’t mind.

What mother wouldn’t want to cook for her own child? It wasn’t as if he was demanding it every day.

But his words struck deeper than he realized.

"You think I don’t want to be a mother?" Evelyn’s voice cracked. "You’re the one who took that choice from me!"

Dominic froze when he saw the tears glistening in her eyes.

His lips parted, but no words came.

After a heavy silence, Evelyn whispered, "Is your depression why you refuse to have children?"

"Depression doesn’t automatically mean the child will suffer. Doctors monitor for risks. You don’t get to decide whether a life is worth living."

Dominic turned toward the window, jaw clenched.

He was holding back—something dark, something raw.

When he finally spoke, his voice was ice. "Never bring up children again. Ask for anything else, and it’s yours."

"And if all I want is a child?"

Evelyn reached for his hand, her throat tight. "What if I begged you?"

Before she could finish, Dominic pulled away.

His answer was clear.