Dominic walked away from Arette's room. He was frustrated and angry, not just at Arette but at himself. The moment his hand struck her, he knew he had crossed a line. Heck, he had crossed the line months ago, but he hadn't meant for things to escalate to this point. Arette's attitude and his own temper had led him down a path he wasn't proud of.
He headed to his room, closing the door behind him. He needed to clear his mind, to think about what he was going to do next. He couldn't afford to lose control again; Arette might just sincerely hate him. In his mind, she was just joking about hating him.
Sitting behind his desk, Dominic poured himself a drink, the amber liquid swirling in the glass. As he took a sip, he tried to rationalise his actions. Arette's constant attitude was driving him to the edge, and the stress of his situation—having to stay at home, afraid of losing himself in front of a client—was taking its toll.
