King of Players: An Opposites Attract Romance (Billionaire Kings of New York Book 3)

17. Haunted

seventeen

Kaira

“How are the exercises going?” Marvin asked while I sat curled up on his armchair, holding my head between my hands.

I sighed. “I’m doing them.”

“Do you think they’re working?”

“Oh.” I chuckled. “You mean the positive affirmations? Obviously, I haven’t started hitting my head against walls yet. So, I suppose?”

“What about the meditation?”

“I do it in bed. It’s the time I need it the most.”

“Is it helping you sleep better?”

“It’s helping me fall asleep. The quality, however, is questionable.”

“Have you started journaling again like we agreed?”

“I try. It’s just that my mind draws a blank the minute I pick up the pen.”

“Blank? Or thoughts you refuse to acknowledge?”

I gave him a bitter smile. “Marvin, you know me too well. If you weren’t a hundred years old and married to an angel, I would’ve proposed to you and gotten it over with.”

His hearty laugh echoed through the vast office space, resonating back to me, summoning a smile from deep within. “Although I’m deeply flattered, it’s alarming that you think marriage is something to be over with. It’s the beginning of a long, hard road.”

“Think about it: what’s better than marrying your therapist? They’re the one person in the world who makes you feel good about yourself.”

“Philosophically speaking, sure. But what will you bring to the table?”

“All those great qualities you’re so desperate to make me believe I possess?” I challenged him.

“What do you believe?”

“Honestly? I feel pathetic. For the first time in my life, I can’t seem to get over a man I barely had a relationship with. I miss him the way I’d missed a long-time boyfriend. How’s that for desperate?”

“Personally, I don’t think you’re desperate. Granted, I don’t know this Chad, but clearly, something clicked beyond the sex. Something deeper and more profound.”

“Please, don’t go all spiritual on me now.” I dropped my hands in my lap, feeling sick to my stomach.

“What’s wrong with humoring that thought? Isn’t that the essence of what we do here? Pick a possible analysis and scrutinize the hell out of it until it either makes sense or not?”

“And a connection of the souls is the title of today’s episode?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Because all I know is that he admitted he didn’t care about me. He found me attractive. He wanted to add me to his little red book. Sure, he even threw in some compliments about how good and generous I am. But did he say he cared? No. Did he refer to that connection you’re implying? Absolutely not. He apologized to get me out of his house. And because he’s a trained professional, God, did that speech work.”

“Kaira, you can’t possibly be telling me that you’re seeing things with no dimensions or depths at all. I refuse to believe it. Have you ever thought that perhaps he was genuinely embarrassed? I mean, not only did you catch him at a bad time… but from what you told me, your honesty was brutal.”

“Not for someone like him.”

“Not for the impression you have of him. There’s a big difference.”

“Meaning?”

“I’m only flirting with the idea that he might have actually had feelings for you, if that narrative was to be seriously considered. The woman you care about walks in, late at night, livid, forcing you to sober up and apologize. Don’t you think he might have felt cornered?”

“No corner is immune to the truth. If he’d said something different—”

“To what end? You had already told him that you don’t see it working. That you can’t accept his lifestyle or the way people handle his private matters. Isn’t it so?”

Looking away, I nodded and said nothing.

As if to sprinkle salt on an open wound, Marvin asked, “Are you having second thoughts?”

“About him? No.”

“You did say you miss him.”

Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head. “But do I really miss him? Or the way I felt when I was with him?”

“Let’s explore that. How did you feel? And is that in the context of sex, or in general?”

“Oh.” I straightened my back, sitting up a little. “Well… In general, for some reason, he was beginning to strike me as someone who had depth—far more than what I thought an actor like him would.”

“Hm.”

“And I felt like I could talk to him about anything without feeling judgment. That’s something that nobody I know can offer. It can also be—and I’m aware of the irony—because of his line of work.”

“Right.”

“But the sex… I mean, yeah, it was good. I enjoyed it. But that wasn’t it. It’s—it was—the effortless comfort that I felt with him. I normally tense up the minute I get naked with a man. I don’t know what he wants, or if he knows what I want. I feel the need to talk, guide… be guided. Is that what chemistry is? I don’t know. Maybe. The point is, there was nothing stressful or taxing about the act with Chad. It all came naturally, as if we both knew exactly what to do and what the other wanted with a look, a sound, a touch. It was just… easy. It felt natural and immensely gratifying.”

“And… just to hammer on that point; that was never the case. Say, even with the man you were almost engaged to?”

“Who—Oscar? God, no.” I giggled, for some reason hiding my mouth with my hand, as if shy. “Oscar and I were good… really good, in other ways. But not like that, not in that aspect, anyway. And obviously, when I figured out that Oscar never wanted to get married, there was no longer a point in talking about it or trying to fix it.”

“I see.”

***

When I got home, I felt completely drained—both physically and mentally. Before I even changed out of my work attire, I texted the group chat that I wasn’t going to make it for ladies’ night. I didn’t feel like drinking, nor did I want to socialize. Ready to call it a day—even though it was only eight-thirty—I left my phone on the nightstand and stepped into the shower.

Drying myself, I walked out of the bathroom to see a blinking light on my phone. Several texts from the ladies trying to persuade me to come out, and a call from Natalie. Dialing her number, I stood in front of the mirror, drying my hair.

“Kaira!” she answered. “Tonight of all nights, you really must come.”

“What’s so special? I had a long day, and I’m really tired.”

“I have some gossip for you,” her mischievous tone sickened me.

“I really don’t care about where Chad Niles is sticking it this week, if that’s what this is about.”

“Geez, Kaira!”

“I’m sorry. I told you I’m exhausted. Work is just getting to me. I really could use some sleep.”

“Well, it’s your loss. And no, it’s not about him. It’s about someone important—well, used to be important in your life.”

“Who?”

“Oscar Rutherford.”

“Huh! Speak of the devil.”

“Really?”

“Uh—Yeah, someone was asking me about him earlier today.”

“Well, perhaps that someone knows that Oscar’s back in America.”

“Ah, I see. No, they didn’t mention that.”

“And I hear he’s back for good, too.”

“Why? Did Switzerland turn out to be too extravagant for his taste?”

“What I heard is that he’d gone to finish his book, and that it’s now finished. Sounds like we can read it for book club as early as Thanksgiving!”

“Oh, good for him. He’s worked on it for so long.”

“I was also told that he’s still single,” she said the last word with a meaningful tone.

“Natalie, Oscar’s goal in life is to remain single. How’s that a surprise?”

“The surprise is that he was engaged last year! God, Kaira, what rock have you been under?”

I couldn’t admit to her that the news surprised me. Oscar? Engaged? So, it wasn’t his lack of desire for marriage. Once again, I was the problem. “I just don’t make a habit of following my exes’ news. It’s unhealthy and counterintuitive.”

“Well, from what I heard—”

“Natalie, I’m sorry. I’m gonna have to stop you right there. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said that my day had been painfully long. I have a headache that’s possessing my entire skull, and if I don’t take something for it and go to bed right now, I’m afraid it’s gonna drag on until tomorrow.”

“Right. Well. Too bad you’re not going to make it tonight. Rest up, darling. Feel better.”

“Have a good night.”

“You too, darling. Bye.”

When I hung up, I realized that I had stopped drying my hair, and that it was now dripping all over me, creating a little pool at my feet. What was it with me and revelations these days? Why was the universe lobbying epiphanies into my lap like I had nothing better to do?

Pulling the towel from around my neck, I swiftly knelt down, using it to dry the puddle before the water left a stain on the hardwood floor. Oscar wanted to get married, just not to me. Probably to some Swiss blonde who shared his passion for words and indifference to sex.

But then again, why did I make such an assumption? Perhaps the whole reason behind his claim not to be the marrying kind was because of our subpar sex life. Maybe he didn’t want to hurt my feelings or break my heart. Would I have felt like less of a woman if he had faced me with a confession like that? Could I have saved our relationship by exploring new directions or seeking counseling?

When I realized that the floor had already been dry and squeaky clean, and that my incessant scrubbing was no longer called for, I stopped. But I didn’t feel like getting up.

It wasn’t fair to think that way, was it? The burden of salvaging an entire relationship with a man who was ten years my senior should have never fallen on my shoulders alone.

Marvin was right; sometimes, I was too hard on myself.

Brushing off all thoughts of Oscar and his newfound desire for nuptial bliss, I pushed myself up and headed for the drawers, pulling out a pair of panties and a clean shirt to wear.

Stepping back in front of the mirror, I grabbed my hairbrush and proceeded to untangle my locks. I wished there was a brush for minds and souls to help us through trying times.

But I shouldn’t be ungrateful—I had a house I could call my own; work that I enjoyed, which also fulfilled me; a solid social circle that afforded me security and peace of mind. It was more than I could say for most people.

And so what if Chad and I couldn’t be a thing? There was never an unspoken promise of such nonsense, anyway. And so what if Oscar didn’t want to marry me? Marriage wasn’t a goal, nor was my life incomplete without it.

Getting into bed, I picked up a book and started reading it. It was a romance novel that a friend had given me as a Christmas present last year. The story began from the viewpoint of a male protagonist—Adam—who seemed to enjoy the age-old pastime with women without a care in the world.

Suddenly, Adam had a face.

Adamant on not letting Chad ruin every little detail for me, I carried on reading. Chad (Adam) met a woman at the DMV. Chad (Adam) couldn’t stop thinking about the way her fingers curled around her rolled up file. Chad (Adam) started spending sleepless nights thinking of the beautiful stranger.

Before I knew it, I was back to square one…

Lying awake in bed, fantasizing about Chad lying awake in bed, fantasizing about me.