Chapter 25
Kai
The crackling of the fire pops as each log burns down. It’s not too cold here at night, even though we are on the beach. I’ve always wanted to have a fire on the beach. It’s something different. I’ve always had campfires in the mountains where temps drop low, even on summer nights.
“How did that one night go with Blakely?” Kevin asks.
It’s eleven o’clock at night, and everyone has already gone to bed. All the traveling wore them out. I haven’t spoken to Kevin about the night B, and I went to our spot. He hasn’t pushed about it, either. “It went good.”
Kevin chuckles, shaking his head. “That’s all you’re going to say?”
“Do you want every detail?” I furry my brows.
Kevin raises an eyebrow, looking at me as if he knows there is more to it. “Not every detail, but you could give me something. You’ve seemed lost for days. It must have been more than good.”
The memory of that night replays in my mind.
The way Blakely looked at me, the hesitation in her voice when we talked, like she wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
I had thought maybe, just maybe, she felt the same as I did.
But then there’s Liam... and now this engagement.
The only thing I have been holding onto is that she never flat-out said that she loves Liam, and she never said that she didn’t love me.
I glance over at Kevin. “It was complicated. We talked, but it felt like she was holding back. I don’t know if she’s still holding onto something, or if I’m chasing after something that will never be at this point.”
Kevin leans over, tossing a stick in the fire. “You think she’s confused?”
"Maybe,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’m stuck in limbo. She’s engaged to someone else, man. But every time we’re around each other, it feels like there’s still something there, you know? Like she’s not completely over it, and I know I’m not.”
“Maybe you’re both waiting for the other to make a move.”
I stare into the fire, watching the flames dance around. After having that talk with B, it sounded like we both were waiting for one another to say something first. Neither of us made the first move—until I finally did. “I made my move. I should have done it sooner, because now look.”
"Well, brother, it looks to me you have to work a little harder at it, then.”
I let out a huff.
If only they knew how hard I’ve been working at it day in and day out, trying to rebuild what I tore apart.
Not just for my family, although that’s the biggest part, but for myself, too.
It hasn’t been easy. Hell, nothing worth having ever is.
But I was determined. That moment it hit me—the realization that four years had slipped through my fingers like dust in the wind, wasted away—was like a punch to the gut.
Four years went by that I could’ve been better, done better.
Instead, I drowned myself in alcohol, numbing the pain, pretending it didn’t matter, that nothing mattered.
But it did. It does. And now, I’m trying to claw my way back to the surface, out of the mess I created, to prove—to myself and everyone else—that I’m more than the man I was.
That I can be better. That I want better.
One night, I was listening to “Dust in the Wind” by Kansas.
It was one of my dad’s favorite songs. I was listening to the lyrics, and while I rarely focus on lyrics, this night, feeling low, the lyrics struck me harder than any song ever had.
I felt like my dad was speaking to me through the song.
I’m sure he was disappointed at how I turned out.
That night I cleared out my house of any alcohol and never turned back.
The sound of laughter wakes me up. I turn over to see if Amari is still sleeping but find the bed empty.
More laughter erupts, making me question what is going on.
I grab my phone and see it’s already ten o’clock in the morning.
I kick the covers off me and let out a sigh at the thought of seeing Liam and B together.
Even though I helped plan this vacation and knew he would be here, it doesn’t make it any easier.
A sweet, buttery smell makes my stomach rumble.
It’s Sunday—the day we make pancakes. I round the corner and see Liam and B making the pancakes while everyone else is sitting at the table and enjoying themselves.
Liam catches me walking in and gives me a quick nod.
B turns around with the spatula in her hand and pancake batter on her nose.
I’m sure they make pancakes every Sunday, since it became a tradition for Blakely.
I’ve had no doubt that they do it together, but seeing it hurts.
“Do you want some coffee?” Blakely points to the coffeepot. “I made a fresh pot.”
“Sure.” I grab a mug and pour myself a cup. “Thank you.” Her lips rise a little before turning back around and flipping the pancake.
We used to always make pancakes together. I remember, one day at her mom’s house, I went over and surprised them with all the ingredients to make pancakes—and the fruit toppings to go with it.
I hope I don’t disturb them on their pancake Sunday, I think to myself as I walk up to ring the doorbell.
This is the first time in a long time that I haven’t woken up with a hangover from the night before.
I know they’re going to be surprised when they see me.
I woke up early to go to the store to buy all the essentials so I could come over and make them all pancakes, since I know they do this every Sunday.
Bryn opens the door, looks at the bags in my hands, and then up to me.
“Hey, Bryn.”
"H-hi,” she stutters, clearly confused.
“Are Blakely and Amari home? I brought stuff to make pancakes,” I say, raising the bags.
My relationship with them hasn’t been easy.
They’ve seen me drunk, begging for Blakely to come back to me, too many times to count.
It’s finally the first time in a long time that I’ve come over on a weekend—at least sober.
I never asked to cook for them, so I’m sure it’s making her even more confused.
She opens the door wider so I can step through. “B!” she yells. “Kai is here.”
I step through the door and notice that there is no smell of pancakes in the air. Good, I got here in time before they made them.
“What are you doing here?” B asks as she comes down the stairs, narrowing her gaze at the bags in my hand.
Her hair is messy, and she’s still in her pajamas.
I do a double take at what she’s wearing—my shirt.
It hangs loosely on her, flowing down like a dress, and a wave of nostalgia washes over me.
She used to always take my shirts and wear them to bed.
I loved seeing her in them. She used to tell me she loved wearing them because she liked to go to bed with my scent on her.
I raise the bags once again, as if it’s going to prove something. “I came to cook pancakes for you guys. I know you guys do pancake Sundays.”
Her brows raise as she stares at me, confused. “Uh, you don’t have to.”
“I wanted to.” Brooke comes around the corner out of the kitchen, glancing at me.
“Hi, Kai. What are you doing here so early?”
What an impression I’ve made on this family. Everyone questions my presence this time of day on a Sunday.
“He wants to make us pancakes. Have you already started them?” B interjects.
Brooke shakes her head. “I was about to.” She pauses for a moment and looks between me and Blakely, as if something is going on between us.
“I can help you make them,” B says, coming down the last step. “If you want?”
A wide grin forms on my face. It makes me happy to know she wants to be around me.
I know I haven’t been the best person to be around.
I can’t thank her enough for how patient she has been with me.
Especially with Amari. She’s such a great mother to our daughter, even when I haven’t been the best father.
"Here, let me take your bags.” Brooke grabs them out of my hand and walks back into the kitchen.
“Where’s Amar–” Before I can finish, Amari comes into sight with wide eyes.
“Dad! You’re here!” she says, walking down the stairs in her pink nightgown. I reach for her and wrap her in my arms. “What are you doing here?” she asks in her small voice.
“I came to cook you guys pancakes,” I say. I embrace her as she wraps her legs around my waist.
“Oh, good. I’m starrrrving.” Blakely and I laugh.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” B says as she cuts the strawberries.
To be honest, I don’t. I haven’t ever really cooked before. I should have read up on how to make pancakes before I came. I’m going to make myself look like a fool.
B looks over my shoulder and giggles. “Here,” she says, grabbing the spoon out of my hand. “You need more milk. This is too thick.”
“I thought thicker was better.” I grin at her, hiding that fact that I have no idea what I’m doing.
I never thought pancakes could be so difficult.
I should have helped B out more when she would make them for us.
She always prepared us food. I took her for granted because now all I eat is fast food or processed food, and I can tell how badly it’s affecting my body. Well, that and all the alcohol.
She shakes her head with a small grin on her face, holding back a bigger laugh. “Not for pancakes! They’re supposed to be fluffy, not like a brick.” She pours in some milk and stirs it into the mix. I can’t help but admire how much she has grown since the few years we haven’t been together.
“Okay, chef. What’s next?”
She laughs, and the sound of her voice brightens my mood. “Mix an egg into it while I finish up these strawberries.”
“Okay. Yeah…I’m pretty sure I can handle that,” I joke, grabbing the egg, cracking it on the edge of the bowl, and dropping the egg in the bowl. I scoop a bit of batter onto my finger. “How does this look, chef?” She turns toward me, and I rub the batter onto her nose.
She gasps and looks at me in shock. “Kai!”
We both turn to Amari as she laughs in the background.
“Oh, do you want some, too?” I ask, scooping more batter onto my finger before heading over to Amari, who's still laughing.
“No.” She squeals.
She crawls under the table so I can’t reach her. “Come here, little one.”
“No. Dad. No,” she says through her laughs.
I reach my arm under the table and rub the batter on her cheek. “Ah ha. Got you.”
“Dad!” she squeals.
The minute I’m up from the floor, Blakely is right behind me and slaps a whole handful of batter onto my face.
Wild laughter erupts, filling the kitchen. I can’t shake the feeling of this simple moment. Simple moments that I used to take for granted. Before Amari was born, we used to always play around with one another. Everything got so serious after Amari. Then, my dumbass didn’t help anything.
I look at Blakely and Amari, each of them covered in batter, and I realize how much I’ve missed this.
I’ve been a dumbass, caught up in my own head, but here we are, laughing together.
This is what I want. I want my family to wake up under the same roof every morning.
Playing and laughing together. But deep down, I know before bringing anything up about us getting back together, I have to work on myself first. I have to become the person and father they need me to be—and what they deserve.
And maybe.
I’ll eventually be the husband Blakely deserves.