Bob hated airports. He hated the constant push and shove and dragging luggage and having to go from terminal to terminal but most of all he hated the waiting. The seats were uncomfortable and no matter where he went there was always a screaming child and all he wanted to do was go home. Tapping his foot against the chair in front of him he checked his cell phone for the time and frowned. She was late. He watched the arrival board above the waiting area and sighed. Her plane still wasn’t on it. No matter how much he’d planned this trip he knew something was bound to happen. And of course her connection flight into Chicago was delayed. Sighing, he returned his attention back to the magazine he’d bought and adjusted the sunglasses on his face. Another thing he wasn’t a huge fan of was being recognized. So he’d slicked his blond hair back and pulled his hoodie down over his eyes and stuck a pair of sunglasses on.

The minutes dragged into the early evening and Bob slowly began to get impatient. He kept his magazine high to block his face and glanced at his phone again only to wince when it vibrated loudly on the seat next to him. It was a text message.

‘I’m here. Where are you?’

The frown deepened on his face and he tapped out a reply.

‘I’m at your terminal?’

Almost immediately after it sent his phone buzzed with an incoming call. He shook his head and answered it on the second ring.

“Yes, Dominica.”

“Obviously you’re not at my terminal because I can’t fucking see you. So you’re clearly at the wrong fucking one,” she said coolly and he laughed.

“Then where the fuck are you?” he shot back and she laughed with him.

“Oh wait, there you are. Nice disguise.”

The line clicked and Bob pocketed his phone only to have his magazine pulled from his hands by a grinning Dominica. She tossed it on the seat beside him and winked, her long hair curly around her shoulders and her simple yet sexy outfit a sight for sore eyes. Bob shook his head and sighed, standing and opening his arms for her that she stepped into with a giggle.

“Bob! Baby!” she squealed and squeezed him.

“Christ, Dom you’re gonna suffocate me, damn,” he muttered into her hair and she pulled away with a grin.

“Shut up.”

“Alright let’s get outta here. I fucking hate airports,” he took her carry on from her and led her toward baggage claim. Dom followed along, hooking her arm in his as they waited for her suitcases. She laughed when he readjusted his hood over his hair and the sunglasses over his eyes.

“Nice beard, by the way,” Dom tugged at his chin and he pushed her away.

“Hey, don’t start with that.” He warned, grabbing her bag off the conveyor belt. “I’m the one helping you out here okay. No teasing me.”

“Oh come on, Bobert.” Dom pouted as he grabbed her second suitcase.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Grumpy,” Dom teased and they made their way toward the exit, Bob tugging one suitcase while Dom lugged the other and her carry on. The two remained quiet as they found Bob’s car and loaded her things into the back.

“Okay, here’s the deal. I set you up in my guest room. I won’t tolerate the bullshit Gerard and them let you get into so don’t even try it. You know the rent deal and you’re on your own for work. I won’t be around much, but when I am around, I’m here if you need me. You know I just want you to get better.”

Dom grinned and nodded, “I understand.”

“Good.”

“Well now that the serious shit is over, how have you been?”

Bob shook his head and glanced at her. He had to admit she looked good compared to what she’d been the last time he’d seen her. She’d gained a few pounds and her air looked longer and fuller. Her gray eyes were wide and she seemed thrilled to be away from New York. He smirked and turned back to watching the road.

“I’ve been good. Been getting back to sound and just taking it day by day. The usual.”

“I’m glad to see you’re happy.” She nudged him. “That last couple times I saw you with the boys you looked miserable.”

Bob scowled. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Well, we are so get over it. I’m just saying, I could kind of tell you didn’t want to go back to the band after the hiatus. It just seemed like you were sick of the spotlight. That’s all I’m trying to say.”

“Yeah well let’s just leave it at that then. Wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings talking bad about your precious Gerard.”

Dom eyed him. His grip had tightened on the steering wheel and his mouth had thinned into a line. Yeah, he was pissed.

“Okay, fine. We’re letting it go. Just know that I still love you,” she grinned and patted his arm.

They spent the rest of the ride back to Bob’s in comfortable silence. Dom kept to herself, occasionally glancing at her phone to reassure Nat and the boys that she’d arrived at her destination safely. When they finally got to Bob’s he helped lug her things inside and unpack. By the time she was fully settled in it was almost midnight and the two crashed on her bed. Dom stared at the ceiling while Bob sat cross-legged beside her, one of his dogs curled in his lap.

“Thank you again for letting me stay with you,” Dom whispered.

“Stop thanking me,” Bob muttered his reply and nudged her side. “Just because I had a falling out with the guys doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

She rolled onto her side and smiled. “I know. It’s just weird being away from everyone. Starting fresh is kind of terrifying. I guess it’s just hitting me now. I only know you.”

He nodded and sighed. “Yeah, it’s scary but I know you can get through it. It’s not hard with the right connections. And once you get on your feet you’ll be fine.”

A tired smile drifted across Dom’s face and she nodded. “You have so much faith. It’s pretty beautiful, Bob.”

“Time for bed,” he jumped up from the mattress quickly, his dog dropping ot the floor with a disgruntled growl. He made it quickly to the door before Dom sat up with a confused frown.

“What did I do?”

“Nothing. I just realized I have to be up early tomorrow morning. For work. That’s all. You seem pretty beat too so, I’ll leave you to it. Good night!” He forced a smile and disappeared, closing the door with a snap and leaving Dom alone. Shrugging, Dom let it go and wriggled out of her clothes. She pulled on pajama pants and a t-shirt and snuggled into the covers.

Pulling out her cell phone she yawned and tapped out a mass text to her friends, bidding them goodnight before rolling onto her side and passing out.

___________

It didn’t take long for Dom to find a job in Chicago. She wanted to keep things simple so she started out working part time doing little things like working in supermarkets or coffee shops. Since she had gone through training to be both bartender and barista she found herself sticking to a job at a corner coffee shop from the studio Bob worked at doing a guest recording with some Indy band she’d never heard of.

When she wasn’t serving coffee and lattes she found herself struggling for things to do to keep herself occupied. She did keep in touch with her friends, constantly texting and emailing them but something was still missing. She found herself often locked in Bob’s office, where she’d set up some of her art supplies, doodling on canvases or writing in a journal she’d purchased before leaving New York. But instead of writing typical diary entries she’d begun writing letters.

“Who are you even writing to?” Bob questioned one morning as she sat hovered over her journal, her pen whizzing across the pages while he fixed himself a cup of coffee.

Dom paused and looked up at him with wide eyes. “A couple people.” She shrugged.

“Like?” he tried to lean forward to see the pages but she snapped it closed before he could get a good enough look.

“No one you’d know.”

“I doubt that,” he grabbed at the little leather bound book but Dom snatched it away. “Come on, it’s not like you don’t vent to me anyway. Who are you writing to?”

Jumping up from the table, Dom tucked the book under her arm and shook her head. “It’s none of our friends, Bob. Just leave it alone!”

“Okay, fine. Sorry.” He took a sip of his coffee and sat down, spreading the newspaper out on the now empty table and finding and article to read. “Just want to know what goes on in your head sometimes. You’ve been kind of reclusive since you got here.”

Sighing, Dom pushed her fingers through her hair and shrugged. “I know and I’m sorry. But I guess I just need time to myself before after everything. These letters just help me deal with all the shit going on in my head. They help me deal with the past and now and I’d feel more comfortable if you didn’t read them. They’re very personal.

“Fine.” He nodded and scratched his beard. “I’ll leave it alone then.”

“Thank you.”

She sat down across form him hesitantly but he just kept sipping from his mug. She placed the journal in front of her gingerly and folded her arms over it. For months she’d spent her free time writing and drawing and keeping to herself and it scared him because that wasn’t the Dom he was used to. He was used to the sometimes obnoxious, gutsy and usually high Dom who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind or be raunchy. Now she was quiet and reserved and afraid and he was concerned about where this would lead.

Placing his mug on top of the newspaper, Bob looked straight into her eyes and she smiled at him.

“Dom, I want you to know that you can talk to me about the dark shit, okay?”

“What do you mean?”

He could see her withdrawing from him so he eased up and leaned back in his chair. “I just want you to know that if you need help with anything. Whatever it is you’re going through up there,” he tapped his temple, “You can tall me. I don’t sneak off and tell people about our conversations. I’m not connected to Gerard or Mikey or Frank or Ray anymore so there’s distance. You’re just starting to scare me with this personality shift.”

“I don’t mean to,” her voice was small and she chewed the inside of her cheek and fidgeted with the sleeves of her shirt.

“I just wanted you to know. We don’t have to talk now, but if you want to, I’m around.”

Dom nodded and smiled. She watched Bob finish off his coffee and get up from the table. He rinsed the mug and left the room, patting her back gently as he passed. She waited for his office door to close before staring down at her journal in her hands. Everyday, often two or three times she’d write a letter. Opening the book she stared at the first one and her eyes welled with tears. It was to her mother. She apologized for being so useless, for letting her father abuse them both and letting her know that she still loved her and missed her. That first letter had taken her three days to write and she reread it often just to remind herself that she could get better. Each letter after that was to each of her friends. She apologized to each of them in those first letters but never had the heart to send them. So she kept them with her and wrote to them when she felt the past creeping up on her.

Looking up from the book, Dom stared around Bob’s kitchen and let out a low sigh. Pushing away from the table she clutched her journal and made her way into her bedroom. Squaring her jaw she tucked the journal into her sock drawer and turned to her closet. She was going out. She had to get back to her happy sober self and she wasn’t going to stop until she got there.