Dominic felt a hollowness he had never known. Three months passed. Gala invitations went unanswered. Champagne bottles remained untouched. His penthouse gathered dust. He volunteered in Harlem community kitchens, donated quietly, and found satisfaction in human work.
One rainy evening, there was a knock at the door. There she stood, soaked but composed. “I heard what you have been doing,” she said. “Why?”
“Because you made me see what love truly is,” he said. “Sacrifice, not control.”
She studied him for a long moment. “You really changed?”
“I am trying,” he said simply.
