Chapter 20 - Kai
Kai
I've been trying to figure out how I’m going to reenact our old times and get her to come outside.
I don’t want to just text her and tell her, even though that is the way we used to do it when we were teenagers.
My heart races as I turn down her street.
Even though this isn’t the street I used to pick her up on, the memories of us sneaking out are resurfacing.
I can remember the first night I asked her and how nervous I was.
Good thing I had some vodka beforehand, because that helped calm my nerves.
“How grown I thought I was walking around with a vodka slushy.” I sigh to myself.
I gave her some of it, too. I still remember the face she made when she took a gulp.
I felt bad that I didn’t warn her. I thought she had drank before, but after that, I knew she wasn’t the normal type of girl who would chase after me—the ones who drank to get any male attention.
I was never one to fall for that, but then I turned Blakely into that.
Well, at least the attention she was trying to get was mine, and she didn’t have to get drunk to get it.
I really was a bad influence on her. How would her life have turned out if she hadn’t met me?
I turn my lights off and slowly pass her house. There is a light shining through the windows onto the front porch. She must be watching TV in her living room. Is she still awake?
I say fuck it and pull out my phone and decide to text her. My hands are trembling as I scroll down to her name: Beautiful.
Me: I’m outside.
The same words I used to tell her when I would pull up to her house all those years ago.
Three dots keep appearing and then disappearing on my phone screen. I know she’s confused. I parked a little down from her house, like I did when we used to sneak out. If she’s looking through her window, she won’t see me.
Beautiful: ???
Me: Come out, and you’ll see what I mean.
A few minutes later, I see her speed-walking down the sidewalk in her robe, her arms crossed over her chest. The closer she gets, the deeper the worry lines on her forehead appear.
Oh, shit. I hope she doesn’t think anything is wrong with Amari.
She swings the passenger side door open, jumps in, and looks at me with wide eyes before looking in the back seat. “What is going on? Where is Amari?” She stares at me dead in the face.
I reach over and grab her hand off her chest as she holds her breath. “Everything is fine. I’m sorry. I was trying to do something. I shouldn’t have done it like this. I didn’t think it through.”
She lets out a sigh. “Do what?”
As I hold her left hand in mine, I notice her empty finger.
She’s not wearing the ring. Thank God. I don’t need another fucking reminder.
Then, I notice she has the necklace I bought her.
She keeps that on, but not the engagement ring.
Is she having second thoughts about the engagement?
Why would someone take their engagement ring off but not the necklace?
Especially at night when you’re going to go to sleep.
“Do you remember when you were drunk, and I dropped you off?”
She nods. “Vaguely.”
"Well, you told me you sometimes miss sneaking out. Living a carefree life.”
Her mouth drops as she looks at me. It’s almost like she didn’t realize she came out and said how she felt.
“I was drunk, Kai.”
“Drunk people typically tell the truth.”
“So, what? You’re here for us to sneak out?” she asks, using air quotes.
I nod.
She chuckles. “Seriously, Kai?”
“What?”
“We snuck out because we liked each other and could hardly see each other.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Hey, you’re the one who said you missed it.
I was just trying to be nice and give you what you missed.
And…” I stop myself. I need to tell her I want to talk to her and explain how I feel.
How I’ve always felt. I shake my head. Why is it so hard for me to tell her my feelings?
“And what?”
I let out a breath. It’s now or never. “There is something I really want to talk to you about.”
“Why can’t we talk about it here?”
I clench my jaw, knowing this wouldn’t be easy. “Will you just let me take you somewhere?”
“Is everything okay?”
Of course she thinks something’s wrong. Well, there is something wrong, but I know it’s not what she’s thinking. She’s not used to me being like this—except for when I used to have too much to drink, and I haven’t been drunk in years.
“Yes.” I start the engine and wait to see if she jumps out or not. She grabs the seatbelt and pulls it around her. Once I hear the click, I drive off to our spot.
“Were you sleeping?” I ask, because she’s in her nightgown and an ivory robe.
Good thing it’s the middle of the summer.
She obviously doesn’t care how I see her, or I don’t think she would have come out like this.
Her hair is in a frizzy messy bun, she has no makeup on, and she’s in slippers.
No matter how she looks or what she wears, she’s always beautiful to me.
The fact that she’s so comfortable around me, like we share something deeper than appearances, makes her even more beautiful.
“No. I was watching a movie.” She looks over at me. “How did you know I was alone?”
“Kevin.”
“Oh, right. And I’m assuming Kevin is with Amari?”
I nod.
There are two spots I want to take her, but the first spot is where we went the first time we snuck out.
It’s a special spot that deepened our connection on an emotional level.
The second spot was more on a physical level.
These spots became more than a place we'd hangout at. These places became part of our story. It’s what deepened our connection.
I turn down the street to the park, and B says, “Why are we going here?” I knew she would know right away where we were going from the street I turned down.
“This is where it all began.” This place holds something special more than she will let on.
I remember finding her here when some douchebag broke her heart.
I was dropping Amari off after spending the weekend with her.
I still remember the look on Brooke’s face when she opened the door and realized Blakely wasn’t with us.
“Where’s Blakely?” Brooke asks, looking over my shoulder.
“I don’t know. She’s not home?”
“No. Something happened, and she stormed off. She left her phone here, so I can’t get ahold of her.”
"What happened?”
Brooke looks down at Amari. "Sweetie, do you want to go get ready for bed? Your mom went out for a little. She’ll be home soon.”
Amari nods and heads upstairs. Either she didn’t listen to us, or she didn’t realize what we were saying.
Brooke takes a few steps outside and shuts the door behind her. “She's been upset this whole weekend over that guy she was seeing,” she says in a quieter voice.
The way that Brooke says ‘guy’ makes me think she doesn’t like him. She doesn’t even call him by his name. I remember B telling me about someone she started seeing, but I didn’t think it was that serious. If she is this upset, maybe it was.
“She probably took a walk around the neighborhood. I’ll go drive around and see if I can find her. How long has she been gone?”
“A couple hours.”
“I’ll be back.” I get back into my truck and start driving the neighborhood. The sun is setting, illuminating the sky in soft pink shades. This is weird of Blakely not to be home, especially when she knew what time I’d be dropping off Amari. She doesn’t let anything come before our daughter.
After about a half hour of not seeing her anywhere in the neighborhood, I start worrying more. Brooke said she hasn’t come home yet, and I haven’t found her. I head to the one other place she might be at, but I don’t have high hopes for it, because why would she still go to our spot?
The sky is darkening as I get out of my truck and finally spot her. There she is, sitting on a bench, staring out at the sunset. She keeps wiping her face. Is she crying?
"Blakely,” I whisper.
My voice startles her, and she looks over at me wide-eyed. Once she notices it’s me, she turns her head, shying away from me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, sitting next to her.
With her head hung low and in a broken voice, she says, “Nothing.” She turns back toward me with a slight grin on her face, trying to hide the fact she has been crying. But those red-rimmed eyes can’t fool me.
I wrap my arm around her. At first, she seems uncomfortable—until she lets out a breath and rests her head on my shoulder. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
“I’ve just been thinking a lot. It’s nothing, really,” she admits.
“Those tears don’t seem like nothing.”
She doesn’t say anything back, and for a minute, the only sounds are the crickets in the distance.
“Is it about the guy you were seeing?”
She lets out a huff. “Kind of.”
“Do I need to go kick his ass?”
She giggles. “I wish. There are a few others I’ve dated that could use a kick in the ass, too.”
“Send me a list, and I’ll get right to it.”
She shakes her head, laughing. “You’re part of that list.”
“Am I?” I pull her in tighter.
She looks up at me and gazes into my eyes until she turns back around and rests her head on my shoulder again. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I have forgiven you, you know. But sometimes it still hurts.”
My chest aches from her words. Although I know she’s still hurting, I didn’t realize it still affected her so deeply that she would cry about it. “I know I’ve hurt you. I’ve hurt myself, too—and our family. Is that why you’re crying?”
“Sort of. You know how much I believe in love, right? When I’m with someone, I give everything—my time, my energy, my heart.
But lately, I’ve started thinking I won’t find that again.
It feels too hard, like every time I try, it slips further away.
I’m exhausted from hoping and searching, and honestly, I’m ready to give up.
People always say you can have more than one true love in your lifetime, but I’m not so sure.
I think I was only meant for one, and that love was you.
No one else has ever come close. It’s sad to know we didn’t work out.
Especially since we have a daughter together.
But I’m glad it happened, because I at least got to experience it once in my lifetime.
Some people don’t experience it at all.”
It hurts me to know that she feels this way.
I know she’s always wanted a family. And I ruined that for her.
I’m sitting here, holding the person I love in my arms, wanting to tell her—so badly—that I love her, and I want her back.
I want our family back. I want to tell her how I feel, but I don’t want her to think I’m making this all about me.
Like she says, I usually do. She told me to work on myself, and I am.
After working on myself these past years, I realized I needed to learn to love myself before I could fully love someone else.
I can truly say I love myself. I want that second chance with her so I can truly love her as she deserves to be loved.
But right now, I’m putting my emotions aside for her.
Something that used to be so hard for me to do.
“What made you come to this spot?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “It was one of the last times I felt strongly for someone, and they felt the same way back. This spot brings me comfort when I need it the most.”
Without her needing to say it, I know she’s talking about me—about us. “So you come here often?”
“Sometimes.”
I never realized how much this spot truly means to her.
Seeing her still come here, finding comfort in this place, hits me in a way I didn’t expect.
It’s almost reassuring to know that, even though we’re no longer together, this spot—the one we shared—still holds something for her.
At least in some small way, I’m still able to offer her that sense of calm, that connection, even if it’s just through a memory.
It makes me feel like I haven’t completely let her down.