Updated Feb 23, 2026 • ~9 min read
POV: Dominic
Ethan Montgomery has been Dominic’s best friend since college, which means he knows Dominic well enough to notice when something’s changed.
“You’re different,” Ethan says, looking around the penthouse living room where he’s just arrived for their weekly catch-up. “Lighter.”
“I’m the same as always.”
“You’re absolutely not. You’re—I don’t know. Less haunted? More present? Something shifted.”
Dominic could explain about Jules speaking again, about Valencia’s impact on their household, about how the penthouse feels less like a tomb and more like a home.
Instead he deflects: “Want coffee?”
“Sure. But you’re not escaping this conversation.”
They head to the kitchen where Valencia is making lunch with Jules—grilled cheese sandwiches shaped like dinosaurs because apparently everything is dinosaur-themed now that Jules can verbally express his interests.
“Val! This one looks like a STEGOSAURUS!” Jules is narrating loudly. “Can you make a T-Rex too?”
“I can try! But T-Rex is tricky with square bread.”
“You can do it! You’re the BEST at cooking!”
Ethan stops in the doorway, taking in the scene.
Valencia notices them first, smiles. “Hi! You must be Ethan. Dominic said you were visiting.”
“Guilty.” Ethan extends a hand. “And you’re the miracle-worker nanny I’ve heard about.”
Valencia shakes his hand, laughing. “I don’t know about miracle-worker. But yes, I’m Valencia. Jules, come say hi to your dad’s friend.”
Jules looks up from his dinosaur cheese assembly, waves enthusiastically. “Hi! I’m Jules! I can talk now! Want to hear about dinosaurs?”
Ethan’s eyebrows raise. “He can talk now?”
“Started two weeks ago,” Dominic says. “Haven’t been able to get him to stop since.”
“Daddy! That’s not nice! Talking is GOOD! Val says talking helps us express our feelings!”
“Val’s absolutely right. I’m sorry, buddy.”
Jules accepts the apology magnanimously, then launches into an explanation of stegosaurus plate structures that’s surprisingly anatomically accurate for a five-year-old.
Ethan listens with genuine interest while Dominic makes coffee.
Valencia works on lunch, occasionally interjecting with clarifying questions that keep Jules’s monologue on track.
It’s domestic.
Comfortable.
Exactly the kind of easy family dynamic Dominic hasn’t experienced since Amelie died.
“Lunch is ready!” Valencia announces. “Jules, wash hands please.”
“Okay! Ethan, do you want to eat with us? We have DINOSAUR CHEESE!”
“I would love dinosaur cheese.”
They eat together—Jules chattering, Valencia engaging, Ethan observing everything with barely concealed interest.
Dominic can practically see his friend’s brain working, putting pieces together, drawing conclusions.
After lunch, Valencia takes Jules to his room for quiet time.
“One hour of reading or quiet play,” she tells Jules. “Then we can go to the park.”
“Can Ethan come to the park?”
“If he wants to! But let’s give the grown-ups time to talk first.”
Jules nods seriously, takes his current dinosaur book, disappears into his room.
Valencia catches Dominic’s eye. “I’ll give you two privacy. Nice meeting you, Ethan.”
“You too, Valencia.”
She leaves.
Ethan waits exactly thirty seconds before turning to Dominic with a knowing look.
“You’re in love with your nanny.”
Dominic nearly chokes on his coffee. “I’m not—”
“Yes, you are. Don’t bother denying it. I just watched you watch her for forty-five minutes straight. You look at her like she’s oxygen.”
“That’s—I don’t—”
“Dom. It’s me. You can lie to yourself but you can’t lie to me. You’re completely gone for her.”
Dominic sets down his coffee carefully. “Fine. Yes. I have feelings for Valencia. But it doesn’t matter.”
“Why not?”
“Because she works for me. Because there’s a power dynamic I can’t ignore. Because if I act on this and it goes wrong, she loses everything—her job, her income, her living situation. I won’t put her in that position.”
“Does she know? That you have feelings?”
“She knows I have feelings. But we can’t act on them. We’ve discussed it. Agreed it’s inappropriate.”
“But does SHE feel the same way?”
Dominic’s quiet.
Remembering Valencia’s admission at the park: “Yes. God help me, yes. But wanting and doing are different things.”
Remembering how she looked at him last night when he said she’d become important.
Remembering two weeks of tension and careful distance and both of them pretending this thing between them doesn’t exist.
“Yes,” Dominic admits quietly. “She feels it too. Which makes it worse. If it was one-sided I could just manage my own feelings. But knowing she feels the same way and we still can’t—”
“Why can’t you?”
“I just explained—”
“No, you explained why it’s complicated. Not why it’s impossible. What if you figured out the power dynamic issue? What if you found a way to make this work that didn’t put her at risk?”
“How? I’m her employer. That doesn’t change just because we want it to.”
“You could stop being her employer.”
“You mean fire her? That’s worse—”
“Not fire her. Transition her role. Make her something else. Educational consultant. Jules’s private teacher. Something that puts you on more equal footing.”
Dominic stares at his friend. “That’s just semantics. She’d still be financially dependent on me.”
“Then make it not semantics. Give her a contract. Severance protection. References guaranteed regardless of relationship outcome. Financial security separate from your personal relationship. Make it so she has power too.”
“That’s—”
“Crazy? Complicated? Possibly brilliant?” Ethan leans forward. “Dom, you’ve been half-alive for eighteen months. I watched grief hollow you out. Watched you go through the motions without actually living. And in the past few weeks—since Valencia—you’re PRESENT again. You’re engaged. You’re happy. Don’t throw that away because it’s complicated.”
“What if it goes wrong? What if we try and it doesn’t work and I’ve ruined everything? Jules loves her. If we date and break up, he loses another mother figure. I can’t do that to him.”
“What if it goes right?”
The question hangs in the air.
What if it goes right.
Dominic hasn’t let himself think about that.
Hasn’t let himself imagine what it would look like if Valencia wasn’t just the nanny but actually his partner.
If they could be together without the weight of power dynamics and professional boundaries.
If this could actually work.
“I don’t know,” Dominic says honestly. “I haven’t thought that far.”
“Maybe you should. Because from what I just saw, you three look like a family already. Jules adores her. She’s clearly crazy about him. And you—you look at her like she’s the answer to questions you forgot you were asking. That’s not nothing.”
“It’s terrifying.”
“Love usually is. Especially second-time-around love.” Ethan’s expression softens. “Amelie would want you to be happy. You know that, right?”
Dominic’s throat tightens. “I know. Intellectually. But emotionally—feeling this way about someone else feels like betrayal.”
“It’s not betrayal. It’s healing. It’s moving forward while honoring what you had. Amelie was your first love. Valencia could be your second. Those don’t cancel each other out.”
“My mother would lose her mind. She already hates that Valencia is ‘common.’ If I actually dated her—”
“Your mother doesn’t get a vote in your happiness. Neither does society. The only people who matter here are you, Valencia, and Jules. Does Jules like her?”
“He loves her. Told me last night he loves her.”
“And you love her?”
Dominic doesn’t answer immediately.
Saying it out loud makes it real.
Makes it something he has to acknowledge instead of something he can keep pretending isn’t happening.
“Yes,” Dominic finally says. “I love her. Completely. It’s terrifying and inappropriate and I have no idea what to do about it.”
“You talk to her. Honestly. Not about why it can’t work—about how to MAKE it work. You’re a billionaire, Dom. You solve impossible problems for a living. Solve this one.”
“This isn’t a business problem—”
“No, it’s more important than a business problem. It’s your life. Jules’s life. Valencia’s life. Don’t let fear keep you from even trying.”
They sit in silence for a moment.
Dominic thinking about what Ethan said.
About what “right” could look like.
About whether there’s actually a way to navigate this impossible situation.
Valencia appears in the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt. Jules wants to know if Ethan’s coming to the park?”
“Absolutely,” Ethan says immediately. “Can’t miss the park. Are there dinosaur-related activities?”
Valencia laughs. “Everything is dinosaur-related with Jules lately. But yes, there’s a sandbox where he likes to do ‘archaeological digs.'”
“Perfect. I’ll pretend to be a paleontologist.”
They all go to the park—Dominic, Ethan, Valencia, Jules—and to any outside observer they probably look like two couples with a kid.
Friends spending Saturday afternoon together.
Normal.
Easy.
Except nothing about this is normal.
Dominic watches Valencia help Jules dig for “fossils” (rocks she buried earlier in the week specifically for this purpose).
Watches how patient she is when Jules gets frustrated.
Watches how she celebrates every small discovery like it’s monumental.
Watches how Jules looks at her with complete trust and affection.
Watches how she makes everything better just by being there.
And thinks: What if it goes right?
What if instead of focusing on all the ways this could fail, he focused on making it work?
What if there’s actually a solution to the power dynamic problem?
What if he could have this—have HER—without destroying everything?
What if?
Ethan catches his eye across the sandbox, raises an eyebrow meaningfully.
Talk to her, that eyebrow says.
Figure it out.
Stop being afraid.
And Dominic thinks: maybe.
Maybe Ethan’s right.
Maybe there’s a way.
Maybe he needs to stop thinking about all the reasons this is impossible and start thinking about how to make it possible.
Maybe.
Starting with actually considering what “right” could look like.
Starting with imagining a future where Valencia isn’t just the nanny but actually his partner.
Starting with believing that happiness is allowed.
That he deserves this.
That they deserve this.
Starting with hope instead of fear.
Maybe.
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