Chapter 36
THIRTY-SIX
KIRA
So much has happened since poker night a couple weeks ago—going into subspace and coming back to the hotel to find the stalker had struck again—and then everything just went back to… normal.
Well, as normal as squatting at a billionaire’s house can be, and continuing wedding preparations, and climbing into bed every night with a mountain of an ex-military man. Isaak’s been working out with Domhn while I lesson plan, and I swear, he’s getting even more cut. Meanwhile, my body gets softer and doughier because while Domhn does all the cooking, Anna loves to bake.
When I met with the friend who’s designing my wedding dress this past week, she had to let it out because I’d gained weight. I can see it in my rounder face, too, and the disgust and disapproval in my mother’s expression is evident when she looked me up and down at a final walk through with the caterer on Monday.
But Isaak tells me I’m beautiful every day, and you know what? I’m starting to think he’s right.
Ever since that night at the club, it’s felt easier and easier to believe. Besides, Isaak doesn’t have any trouble tossing my body around at night. I never knew sex could be this good. It turns out I like having a little extra flesh on my bones for him to hold onto and an ass that jiggles when he spanks it.
The stalker still sends me a non-stop barrage of emails and texts, but that, too, starts to just become another part of the routine. As long as Isaak’s by my side, I feel safe and sort of invincible.
But while the routines feel normal, it’s only because I’m trying to keep incredibly busy so I don’t have time to stop and think about the rollercoaster I’m strapped into, speeding inexorably toward a cliff that’s now fully visible in the distance.
The date is marked on my calendar with a big wedding bell emoji.
It’s supposed to be the most exciting day in a young woman’s life. The day she’s dreamed about since she was a little girl running around the house in princess dresses.
Except I was never that little girl.
I was a sad, bookish little kid who hid in closets reading fanfiction on my phone so Carol couldn’t find me to yell at me some more. I dreamed about becoming an adult so I would finally be in control of my own life. Not so I could get married to a boy.
My heart sinks whenever I think about getting married to Drew.
And it’s like I can feel Isaak’s disappointment in me whenever I have to go do something wedding-related.
He thinks I should call it off. He’s never said it, but I know he’s thinking it.
But he?—
He doesn’t understand.
It’s my whole life I’d be throwing into chaos. Sure, maybe that night at the club I felt brave, but the rest of the time, when I’m sane, I know I cling to the safe walls of my box for a reason. Even that night, I was only so brave because I got to completely rely on Isaak’s strength. And I refuse to be a woman who relies on a man like that all the time. In bed is one thing. But in my real life…
I just know my limits. And my limits require that I keep to the safe structures and walls laid out for me. That way I don’t have to worry about completely melting down in an anxiety puddle all the time.
Sure I haven’t been melting down as often lately. Even the intrusive thoughts haven’t been as bad.
But I suspect that’s just because I’ve been getting to let off steam with Isaak so often. And yes, this thing between us is great, but it’s just temporary…
He might think I’m making a mistake marrying Drew, but it’s not like he’s making me any promises or even suggesting what’s between us could be more.
I look across the truck to Isaak driving, his massive, muscled forearms bulging as he turns into the cake shop parking lot.
“We’re here,” he says unnecessarily. He keeps staring straight ahead, not looking at me. He always gets remote like this when I have a wedding-related errand.
“Wanna try some cake with me?”
“You’ll have Drew there,” he says. “I don’t wanna be a third wheel. I’ll stand guard outside.”
I frown at him, wishing I could read his mind. Does he think there could be more between us, if... If I did the ridiculous, bet everything, and went all in on… us ?
Is that even a possibility?
“Isaak, I?—”
He looks over at me and chucks me under the chin, his eyes softening. “Go eat cake, Red. You don’t want to be late.”
It feels like all the breath is pinched off in my lungs. Even worse than him being remote is him being sweet. I want to punch him on the shoulder and tell him not to be sweet. But that makes no sense at all and would make me seem like more of a neurotic mess than I already am, so I just turn and push my way out of the truck, landing with a little hop on the pavement.
He follows me as I head towards the cake shop, but like he said, he stops outside the glass window front.
Little bells ring overhead as I step through the door, and my heart drops when I see Drew already seated inside. I haven’t seen him since the engagement party, and we’ve only barely communicated through the occasional text. He didn’t push when I never got back to him after he texted that night at the club. If there’s one thing I do like about Drew, it’s that he doesn’t push.
“Hey,” I say as I join him at the little table.
He stands up to hug me. “Hey.”
I feel awkward as I let him embrace me, and I wonder what Isaak’s thinking if he’s watching through the window. I pull away as quickly as I can, glad to sit across the table from Drew.
He’s as handsome and well-groomed as ever, but I find myself critiquing his narrow face and jaw when I compare it to Isaak’s more masculine, brutal features. I always thought Drew was the height of male beauty and sex appeal, but yeah, now… not so much.
“How’ve you been?” he asks, and it feels like we’re two friends from college catching up after not having seen each other for years.
“Good, good,” I say, trying to make myself smile. “You know, just finishing out the semester with the kids.”
He mocks a wince. “God, I don’t know how you put up with them. They’re so entitled these days.”
It takes everything in me not to scoff in disbelief. As if he’s one to talk. As if either of us are.
“How’ve things been at the senator’s office?” I ask.
This time his wince is genuine.
I reach a hand across the table, then withdraw it before I can take Drew’s. I still feel so conscious of Isaak watching. “That bad?”
If Drew notices my withdrawn hand, he doesn’t show it. He’s talking fast like he does when he’s excited about something. “You know Dad. Always so focused on the next campaign. He wants me to run for the Dallas City Council next year and invite a few more people to the wedding who could be key supporters.” He waves a quick hand. “I assured him it wouldn’t be a problem for you.”
Oh, how kind of him. Still, I just nod like a bobblehead at all this new information coming at me so quickly.
“But I thought—” I finally manage to utter.
Drew’s still just grinning and busy signaling to the staff that we’re ready.
“Hmm?” He finally looks back at me.
“Since when do you want to go into politics?” I ask, baffled. “I thought that was the last thing on Earth you wanted to do. I thought you got a degree in business because you wanted to work with start-ups and be an entrepreneur.” A self-made man , he always said. Someone his dad would have to respect.
He waves a hand, a larger gesture this time. “That was all just kid stuff. Dad’s finally at a place where he really believes in me.” He grins, flashing all his teeth. “ And is willing to invest.”
“Invest?” I ask, still baffled. “In what?”
He looks at me as if I’ve lost the plot.
“In me . Haven’t you been listening to a single thing I’ve been saying? He finally believes in me. After all this time.” He laughs like he can’t believe it.
I can only stare at him, my mouth open. Is he serious? Just like that?
I want to keep protesting, both for his sake but also mine, too. Our entire lives, he had nothing but spite for his abusive father and the grimy, immoral world of politics his father inhabits.
Not to mention, I never agreed to be a politician’s wife.
But he’s already turning away to welcome and charm the shop owner, who’s come over to the table with the last tasting plate of our final cake selection. She’s a young blonde woman. Drew’s actual type , I can’t help thinking acidly.
“Well, yes, thank you,” he grins up at her with that politician’s smile. “That does look like the most delicious champagne cake I’ve ever seen in my whole darn life.”
I frown, staring. If this is all what I really think, then why the hell am I marrying him?
Because you’ll have nowhere to go home to!
Because this is the picture-perfect scene laid out inside the box!
Because nobody else will ever propose to you!
I frown deeper. Is that what I really think? Or have I been letting anxious, panicked thoughts drive the entire direction of my whole life? And for how goddamned long?
“Darling, you’ve just got to have a bite. They’ve absolutely perfected it this time.” Drew extends a bite of cake for me.
Like always, the conditioning that’s driven me my entire life has me leaning forward to take the cake off the end of his fork.
Drew’s smiling eyes barely glance off me before moving back to the shop owner.
Why did I just do that? Why am I doing any of this?
Under the table, I start spinning my engagement ring on my finger. Five times. Five times more. Five times more.
I look around, feeling suddenly horrified. Like I’m on the outside looking in at a stranger’s life.
Why am I sitting in this cake shop, about to marry a man who doesn’t even know me? Not the real me.
But this is the real you , says a voice in my head that sounds far too much like my mother’s. Do you think you’re any different than Drew, doing exactly what his daddy wants? Hahahaha. You never stopped being my good little Baptist daughter. You just became a slut for a little while. SLUT. WHORE. Jesus will forgive you and wash you in the blood. But only now that you’re back where you belong.
I push back from the table, clutching my purse to my chest. “I’ve got to go.”
Drew’s smiling face comes back to me. “What are you talking about? We haven’t tried the mimosa pairings yet.”
“I’m sorry.” I point a thumb toward the door. “Something just came up… with my advisor. Yeah. Sorry.”
“But I was hoping to talk with you.” Drew’s jaw tightens. “We never get to catch up anymore.”
“Next time,” I smile at him, practicing my poker face some more. “Seriously, I’d stay, but I’ve just got to—” I gesture over my shoulder again, then turn and flee out of the shop.
“What’s wrong?” Isaak says right as I burst through the door, those damn little bells jingling violently as I go.
“Nothing,” I hiss, suddenly just wanting as much distance between myself and this fucking cake place as possible. Drew might still run after me. And as much as he probably deserves an explanation, I just fucking can’t?—
I can’t deal with the implications of everything that was spiraling through my head back there. Maybe that’s all it was. Crazy thought spirals from the OCD. Intrusive thoughts.
Dump Drew.
Don’t go through with the wedding.
You’re an evil, sinful whore.
My intrusive thoughts often take a religious tone. It’s only logical, considering the way I was raised. Textbook, really.
Or not. I don’t fucking know. I just feel fucking crazy right now!
But I’m sure I won’t be able to sort out any of what’s going on in my head any better if Drew’s in front of me, peppering me with questions. I just need to be alone when I get like this. If I’m around too much stimulation when the spirals get really intense like that, it can lead to?—
I try to suck in a breath, but it’s like my chest is so tight no air can get in my lungs.
Fuck.
I wheeze in again, but only the thinnest bit of air makes it through the passageway. I keep stomping toward Isaak’s truck anyway. Have to get out of here . Usually it’s my mother’s parties that I’m escaping while barely breathing.
“Kira, wait,” Isaak says, walking with his long, lanky strides to keep up with me. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
I shake my head but keep walking, struggling for another breath in and not getting much air.
It’s only when we finally get to Isaak’s truck around the corner that I let myself collapse against it and grab my chest.
“Shit, is it an allergic reaction? Do you have an Epi-pen?”
“Panic attack,” I manage to wheeze, bending over and clutching my knees. My eyes squeeze shut. Oh god, I can’t breathe.
I’m going to die.
This time, I’m actually going to die.
People die when they can’t breathe. And I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe!
“Okay, okay,” Isaak puts a hand behind my back. “I’ve read about this. We’re going to do box breathing. Look. That sidewalk square. Kira, the square! Do you see it?”
I nod.
“Four breaths in while your eyes walk along the bottom. One, two, three, four.”
Box breathing. Box breathing. If I was in any situation except this one, I’d find it fucking hilarious that Isaak learned about box breathing. I told him about my panic attacks and he went and learned what to do for them.
I desperately try to suck in breath while he slowly counts.
“Now hold while your eyes walk up the side of the tile, two, three, four. Now, over along the top of the tile. Hold two, three, four. In, two, three, four.”
He keeps counting, and my eyes keep slowly tracking around the square.
And fuck me, after going around it four times, I’m breathing easier and not dead.
I’ve never pulled back from an attack so quickly.
I look up into Isaak’s face, blinking away the last shreds of panic as the real world comes into focus. I feel steadier. More solidly here, in my body and less in that crazy, frantic place.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Oh god I’m so embarrassed. I’m so?—”
“No. What are you talking about?” Isaak shakes his head. “Are you okay?”
He pulls me into his chest, and I’m able to suck in another full breath as his arms close around me.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I whisper into his chest.
His arms stiffen around me at that, and my rib cage suddenly tightens back up again. Shit. That was a totally bitchy, unfair thing of me to say after he just brought me to my wedding cake tasting. And then he was so amazing to me when I freaked out?—
“Just taking care of my client.”
I nod and it’s like a splash of cold water.
“Of course.” I pull away from him but at the last second, his arms clench tighter and we’re both caught, gazes locked.
Yes, I’ve been the one who was clear from the beginning that I was only available as a temporary fling until my wedding.
But… I look up into Isaak’s flint gray eyes.
He’s never even talked about having a long-term girlfriend before. Maybe he’s into unobtainable women and has only stayed with me this long because I was the perfect no-strings arrangement. I’m literally engaged to another man.
But what if…
What if I wasn’t engaged? Would Isaak be interested in something more with me, then?
Is that something I can even ask him? My eyes search his.
And if his answer is no, does that mean I marry Drew as a backup?
My stomach twists. That’s disgusting. I drop my eyes, ashamed of myself for even thinking about it. I pull away, breaking the charged moment.
Either I’m all in with either man or none.
If I’m not, I don’t deserve either of them.
“We should go,” Isaak says, voice gruff.
When I glance up at him again, his face is closed off, and he’s opening the passenger seat door for me.
I swallow and climb up, wanting to beg him to look at me again. But so I can say what?
In the end, I don’t say a word, just yank my seatbelt on. He strides around the front of the truck and climbs in beside me.
He turns on an obnoxious country station, and I don’t make a snarky comment about it. Because, if it turns out I have to walk away with neither of them, I want to memorize this moment with him. These rides in his truck are going to be some of the most precious memories I’ve ever had. And as long as everything stays at this perfectly balanced détente, I can hold onto these last moments for just a little while longer.