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

19. Warm in Winter

nineteen

Kaira

Over the past six months, and as the full throttle of winter raged on, I had been working diligently with Marvin on unlocking the puzzle boxes of my mind. As he had once suggested; we took out every item and examined it, no matter how painful or taxing the process was.

There were sessions where I had laughed hysterically, and others where my emotions remained restrained. He once made an observation that I hadn’t yet been “able to cry”, and I shrugged it off as a minor detail—a stereotype that reduced awakenings to moments of weeping breakdowns. I told him that he, of all people, should know that everyone handled emotions differently.

My thoughts of Chad had gradually transformed, from anger to resignation, and from acceptance to a longing for the memory he had made possible. If God had sent Chad my way in the manner that he did, it might have been only as a vessel that brought some insights. A reason for me to keep searching within myself. A man to show me that all of my relationships with men had been good, but not amazing.

I now knew that love and sex could have the ability to blow my mind, and that I was never going to find them by actively searching. God and the universe worked in mysterious ways, and I could only remain receptive and keep an open mind and heart.

Wide to receive, I began to adopt a more flexible attitude to everything I did in life. Whether it was work, friendships or relationships with acquaintances, I started to be consciously aware of how things made me feel, and adjust them accordingly. If something felt heavy, then it might have required a closer look. When I couldn’t do it, then I shouldn’t; I was free—well, mostly—to lead my life in the way that I had pleased. I didn’t need to remain accountable to obsolete values that no longer served me as a woman. And as long as I remained within the zone of comfort and contentment, without infringing on anyone’s rights to the same, then I was on the right path.

It was important to also observe my level of realism in all of this. I couldn’t afford to be delusional, or to dupe myself into believing that I was completely over Chad. My once adolescent dreams of the beautiful boy from college were now replaced with ones of Chad Niles—all adult and much more satisfying. At least once a month, my handsome dream man visited me with reminders of why I should never settle for less.

So, when Oscar eventually decided to get in touch with me last week, it felt like talking to an old friend from another time. I held no grudges, felt no resentment, and welcomed the voice from the past that had loved the Kaira that I used to be when I didn’t know any better. That was why, when I was asked to meet for a friendly dinner, I enthusiastically agreed.

And tonight was the night.

Sticking to my comfortable habit, I chose a modest, airy dress and gathered my locks up with a clip. I paired my outfit with a silk scarf that had once belonged to my grandmother, and a modern coat that complimented the look.

As I perfected my light makeup in front of the mirror, I received a text from Oscar with the name of the restaurant. We had agreed to meet there, since the place was in the same building where Oscar’s new apartment was.

When I arrived, he was waiting there for me with his usual smile. Only a few new lines had claimed their spots by the corners of his mouth. “Turned forty, huh?” I asked as we hugged. “How does it feel?”

Pulling the chair for me, he chortled. “Wiser, not that I feel any older.”

“That’s unusual.” I giggled, watching him unbutton his blazer to sit down across from me. “Most people start suffering with the joints.”

“You wish!” he joked. A waitress brought us an aperitif.

My eyes landed on the bottle and something inside me felt warm and fuzzy. “Aww! You still remember my favorite.”

“We did live together for a year, Kaira. You don’t forget these things.”

I nodded with a careful smile. As I picked up my glass, I asked, “How’s the book doing?”

“Not as great as I’d wanted,” he admitted, although with no remorse. “But you know me. I keep my expectations in check.”

“Never one to have high hopes.” I took a sip, savoring the flavor. “But I’ll have you know that I’m forcing eight women to buy your book.”

“Still running your book club, I see.”

“Why would I ever stop? It’s fascinating how everyone sees things through a completely different lens. Can you believe that someone once said to me, ‘I think Gibran is the most overrated writer in history?’ and she meant it?”

“Different strokes, I suppose.”

“Yeah.” I grinned when I noticed the way he smoothed the wrinkles out of the tablecloth. It had always been a habit of his, as if he couldn’t possibly enjoy his meal on an uneven surface, even if it was only the fabric. “So, tell me… how was Geneva?”

“Oh, I wasn’t in Geneva.”

“No?”

“I landed there—barely survived a month. I stayed in Locarno for the most part.”

“Oh, how nice.”

“Magnificent. Best place I’ve ever lived.”

“Then how come you’re back here?”

“Well—” He leaned forward, looking me deep in the eyes. “It didn’t have you.”

Taken aback, I could only muster an uncomfortable titter. “Oscar, I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he insisted, reaching for my hand over the table. When his fingers touched mine, I felt like sin. I had no emotions left for him—all that was there was the nostalgia for an old friendship. “Can you believe that I ventured into the idea of getting married?”

“I—Uh… someone mentioned it.”

“It didn’t work. I couldn’t picture a future with anyone but you.”

“Oscar! We were a ‘we’ a lifetime ago.”

“And an entire lifetime can mean nothing when you’re not spending it in love.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?”

“Because we were totally different people back then, let alone… was it even all that perfect in your memory?”

“Wasn’t it?”

“I don’t think so. Maybe it felt that way back then. I was so young, and you were, well… we’ve both grown and evolved since then.”

“Which makes it even better. In these few years, haven’t we learned more about what we want out of life? I’ve learned a great deal about myself and I’m certain that you have, too.”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Absolutely. And you know, I’m sorry… but it doesn’t tip the scale in favor of another attempt at ‘us’, Oscar. Not anymore.”

“Enlighten me, then. What do you think was missing?”

“Passion,” I decidedly said. The flabbergasted look on his face let me know, beyond any doubt, that he was choking back a laugh.

“Passion,” he repeated, dipping his head as if thinking he had heard it wrong. “I thought people grow up to seek deeper things out of life. You’re thirty, and now you’re reexamining lust?”

“Don’t you think it’s important in a marriage?”

“At the bottom of the list, if at all!”

“And what happens when one of us is fed up with that arrangement? How would you feel if I cheated on you?”

“Well.” He shrugged. “Thousands of people cheat every day. It’s never the end of the world.”

Letting out an astonished sigh, I left my lips parted for dramatic effect. “Evidently, our views on this are worlds apart.”

“That’s because the older you get; the less black-and-white life becomes. You understand that there are thousands of shades in between. And it’s not fair to expect perfection out of others when you can’t be perfect yourself.”

“Perfection? I’m talking about fidelity.”

“It won’t count as cheating if we both step into it with a more open-minded agreement, don’t you think? What if I tell you that I would be receptive to the idea of an open marriage, occasionally? To satisfy those needs you’re referring to?”

“Oscar… you’ve changed.”

“I thought we”d established that.”

“Unfortunately, it’s not in the direction that can place us together on a romantic path.”

“Marriage and romance are two different things.”

“So, if passion and romance are out… what are you looking for, exactly?”

“A partner. A life companion. A friend who’ll be there, and knows that I’ll be there, too. For better or for worse.”

A deep sigh embodied all the sorrow I felt for how our first conversation in years was ending. “Oscar… as nice as that sounds in theory, I’m sorry. I don’t think it’s how I want to live my life.”

He smiled, a gentle, fatherly smile as he placed his fist under his chin, leaning forward against the table. Slowly shaking his head, he asked as if rhetorically, “Just when did you develop a palate for romance, Kaira Bradley?”

I smiled, mimicking his gesture as I gazed into his dear eyes. “Somewhere between losing my family to death and spite.”

“Little Wyatt still giving you a hard time?” He sat back, reaching for his glass.

“Well, I had to cave. I foolishly gave him his share, thinking that it would fix things between us.”

“However?”

I sighed, leaning back in my seat, suddenly feeling the weight of loss heavy on my chest. “I never knew gratitude could be so cold. I haven’t heard from him or his fiancée in four months.”

“I heard they’re planning for the wedding to be in Paris. Not a cliché at all.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I am yet to receive an invitation.”

“Well, if I ever do… you’ll be my plus-one just to see the look on their faces.”

I chuckled, glad that we could still talk the way we had long before we’d ever slept together. “So, now what?”

Clearing his throat, he fidgeted in his seat. “Well, I know that should’ve come before I made a fool of myself, but… how’s the romance front?”

“Uh—” I said with a sigh, fixing my gaze on a random spot over his shoulder. “I’m still young. Still got time, right?”

“Whoever he is… he’d be lucky to have you.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

“I mean it. No hard feelings. I just hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Nodding, I gave him a sincere look of gratitude. “You too, Oscar.”

After spending the rest of the evening catching up, and avoiding memories of what used to be, we ended the evening on a sweet note. Oscar walked me to my car and gave me a kiss on the cheek, telling me to drive safely.

But as soon as I settled into the driver’s seat, the urge to drive as recklessly as I possibly could took over. Blasting some music, I clutched the wheel with both hands, willing myself to look at caution in the rearview mirror.

I drove on, maneuvering through traffic and taking an exit onto the highway. Opening all four windows, I pulled the clip out of my hair and let it fly about my face, the cool air and my wild tresses hitting my skin, as if to slap me into feeling alive.

An immense sense of liberation seeped through my body and mind, as if I had been waiting to confirm who I truly was through a conversation with Oscar. I hadn’t realized that our relationship still had a hold on me until I saw him—until we talked.

Having let go of my past, I was now ready to embrace whatever the future brought with thicker skin and a stronger will. So what if I ruined something, or nearly did? So what if Chad had awakened things within me, and I had prematurely tried to abort them? What mattered now was that I was introduced to them.

The embers of that fire still fought on, desperate for a spark to bring them back to life.