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A pang struck my chest. She was right, for the most part. Sometimes, I’d still get a little misty-eyed, but I wasn’t sobbing and clutching my pillow at night like I used to before we moved in with the Bakers. I no longer felt that trepidation I used to feel when the sun rose, and it was time to be an adult. I’d wake up and marinate in my misery and loneliness from missing my other half until all I could think about was Kiyah.
Kiyah needs to eat. Kiyah needs to play. Kiyah needs to blow bubbles at the playground. Kiyah needs you.
I imagined those thoughts were broadcasts from Rory, reminding me that life went on, I had responsibilities, and I couldn’t neglect the little blessing from God he had left me.
I didn’t need Rory’s “wake-up calls” any longer. I’d moved through the five stages of grief, and I was finally at the acceptance stage, where I realized I was fortunate to have had wonderful years with him, and he would always be in my memories.
Maybe Kiyah has reached her acceptance stage, too.
“Thank you, Kiyah, but I need you to tell me if you ever get uncomfortable seeing me and Mr. Jonathan together. I don’t care if we’re holding hands and it upsets you. You need to tell me, okay?” I said, dropping her foot.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Also, please stop asking if Mr. Jonathan is your new daddy. He would be if we were to get married, but until then, it’s Mr. Jonathan to you, okay?”
She pouted adorably, and it touched my heart that she thought so highly of him, but Jonathan and I were brand-spanking new—not even out the plastic brand new, and it was way too soon for her to put that label on him.
“Okay,” Kiyah relented finally.
“Do you need a story before bed?”
“No, Mommy. I’m too tired. Give me kisses and put on my sounds before you go.”
I kissed my daughter’s cheeks in rapid succession before tucking her in and turning on her white noise machine beside her bed that emulated rainforest sounds. I left her bedroom and prepared for Jonathan’s arrival.
Jonathan
I tossed my keys onto the kitchen counter and trudged to my office, where I knew the best liquor money could buy awaited. I wanted one glass—something to take the edge off as I processed how my ex-wife fucked the kids up. Despite Grant’s stony exterior, he was fucking gutted. Hearing him call his own mother a psycho was gut-wrenching, but hearing Kiyah yell that she thought Eliza would kill me and she didn’t want me to die, too, was earth-shattering. That poor girl had been through enough, only for Eliza to traumatize her further. Kierra entrusted me with Kiyah, and I feared she’d never forgive me. I wouldn’t be surprised if Kierra told me my baggage was too much for her, and she handed in her resignation letter. As much as I’d hope she wouldn’t. I couldn’t blame her. She had to do what she had to do to protect her daughter and her peace.
I’m sure this won’t be the last of Eliza. Kierra should get out while she still can before we become too involved.
I opened my office door and paused when I found Kierra sitting in my chair.
“I guess we should talk,” I offered, entering the office. I closed the door softly behind me.
“I don’t want to talk, Jonathan,” she declared, standing to her feet. It was then I realized what she was wearing—a short, black satin robe that showed off her shapely legs. By the time she reached me, I’d imagine one thousand and one different lingerie sets she could be wearing underneath.
“We have to talk.”
“We can talk tomorrow, but tonight is all about self-care,” Kierra insisted. “When you relax the body, you relax the mind.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jonathan
I stumbled up the stairs behind Kierra as she led me by my hand. She looked at me over her shoulder and asked, “You okay, Jon?”
“Y-yeah, I’m fine.”
“There’s no need to be shy.”
“I’m not shy.”
Kierra giggled, and we continued our ascent. “If you say so.”
I hadn’t lied. I wasn’t feeling shy, but my heart raced in anticipation. I didn’t know what Kierra meant by “self-care,” but I was eager to learn.
We entered her bedroom, and the soothing scent of calming lavender and revitalizing eucalyptus greeted us. I’d barely stepped into her room and could already feel the stress melt away. Truthfully, it started as soon as I laid eyes on her. My brows raised when I noticed the towels on her bed. Period sex immediately came to mind.
