Chapter 10
Khenji
I get home around five, shower and relax after getting back on track with Livia. When I left her office, I was relieved that it ended the way it did – with her in my arms – and now, I have a nagging ache to be close to her. I send her a text:
Khenji: Will you spend the evening and maybe the night with me?
This is a risk for me, but I have to prepare myself for being close to her. Livia Augustus will be my wife soon. I know it in my heart and feel it in my bones, and I think she knows it, too. Plus, I need her over here. I want her to fill this house with her energy and see how well she fits into my world. I’m curious to know if she likes the layout, the furniture – everything. It’ll all be hers soon. It needs to be to her liking.
I’m also anxious to find out if I can resolve my rapid heartbeats and just be normal around her if she was over here in my home, where I’m the most comfortable. I’m hoping it helps because I’m tired of running from a woman I adore.
Livia: Do you want me to spend the evening with you or the night?
Khenji: both
Livia: …
It’s taking forever for her to reply. I wonder what her response will be and then I see:
Livia: that’s contradictory to everything you told me earlier
Khenji: I know
Livia: you have issues being close to me
Khenji: issues I need to resolve
Livia: so you won’t have a problem being close to me?
Khenji: I will, but I’ll work my way through it.
Livia: I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.
Khenji: I’m always uncomfortable around you.
Livia: why?
Khenji: because you’re what I’m not supposed to have
Livia: says who?
Khenji: me
Livia: I’ll be there. We need to talk in person about this
Khenji: that’s fine. Thank you.
I instantly begin planning our night. I’m not looking to get into anything fancy – just a chill night at my place that I think she will enjoy.
I wanted to send the car for her, but she insisted on driving so she could come and go as she pleased. I texted her my address, and she texted back that she was on her way. That was twenty minutes ago. She should be here any minute now.
When she pulls up, I walk outside to greet her. I open the door to her car and pull her into my arms.
“Mmm,” she hums. “You’re hugging me like you miss me.”
“I do. Did you bring an overnight bag?”
“I did. It’s in the backseat.”
I open the back, grab the bag, and then we go inside.
I say, “Feel free to take a look around if you would like.”
“I don’t have to. I want to do whatever it is you’re doing right now.”
I leave her bag in the foyer for now and say, “I was making a charcuterie board for us.”
“Oh, that’s nice. Charcuterie and wine.”
“Is that good?” I ask, walking to the kitchen. “I know you probably didn’t have dinner, so I made some roast beef sandwiches as well.”
“That sounds perfect,” she says, as she steps into the kitchen and looks around.
“If you don’t mind, I figure we can sit in here and then maybe transition to the den.”
“Fine with me. I’m just going with the flow. Your home is beautiful, by the way.”
“I can’t take the credit for any of it. This is the work of the interior design firm I hired.”
I pull out a stool and invite her to take a seat. Then I bring over the charcuterie board, a bottle of wine and two glasses before sitting on the stool beside her.
I open the bottle and pour wine into our glasses. She reaches for a roast beef sandwich.
“Mmm…this is good. Did you make these?”
“I did.”
“What did you put on it?”
“I use provolone cheese and mix a little horseradish sauce with mayo. After adding lettuce, onions and tomato slices, you have the perfect sandwich.”
“It’s tasty,” she mumbles as she chews.
I find it endearing.
She picks a grape tomato, dip it in the veggie dip and tosses it into her mouth. Then she follows with a baby carrot. Then celery. Then she’s back to the roast beef sandwich again.
“So, tell me, Khenji—how am I not what you’re supposed to have?”
“You’re just not.” I know my answer isn’t sufficient, so before she asks, I make an effort to explain. “What people don’t understand in life is that people are much more complex than what they show you. I’m a billionaire entrepreneur. I have everything materially, but there was a time when I had nothing materially. It was a traumatizing time for me, but it gave me character since it was during that time I realized love wasn’t for everyone, and I accepted that. That was eighteen years ago.”
“Eighteen years ago? That means you were only twenty when you came to that realization.”
“That’s correct.”
“How does a twenty-year-old decide something like that so conclusively? Your life was just beginning.”
I zone out for a moment while reliving the pain I had to go through back then. If she only knew…
But she can never know the full extent of what my past has done to me.
I eat a piece of cheese and a cracker and then respond, “I had some issues with my parents when I was growing up.”
“I get that. I have issues with my parents currently.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I told you how my father was. He likes to control everything.”
“How?”
“Well, he likes to um…how do I put this? He likes to tell us what to do. For instance, I firmly believe my sister married her husband because my father kind of persuaded her to since he played a role in setting them up. He took it easy on my brother, though he eventually approved of Josie before Hayes married her. He wants to do the same to me, but that’s not going to happen.”
“What happens when you defy him?”
She shrugs and takes another bite of the sandwich. “He—I can’t really describe it. He acts like a spoiled man-baby.”
I laugh and say, “You called your father a man-baby.”
“No, get it right—a spoiled man-baby,” she jests. “That’s the best way to describe him. You’ll meet him one day and then you’ll see for yourself.”
“You think I’ll get to meet your father?”
“Yes. I’ve decided that I’m going to keep you.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yep. You and all of your quirky ways are mine. When you’re more comfortable around me, then it would be a good time to meet him. Until then, it’s me and you, Khenji.”
“I like that. Me and you.”
We flash smiles at each other and then reach for the same grape tomato on the charcuterie board. I pull my hand back and say, “Ladies first.”
She picks up the tomato and holds it in front of my mouth. I open my mouth and she puts it in. I’m careful not to lick her finger, though I wouldn’t mind. It was right there. I should’ve done it.
“Good?” she asks.
“Yes. Nothing like tomatoes with a side of fingers.”
She laughs. “Look at you with a sense of humor. I feel like you’re much more relaxed here. I like it.”
“Yeah. I do, too.”
After dinner, wesettle on the sofa – her choice – because I was trying not to be too close to her if at all possible. She, on the other hand, can’t get close enough. She takes my hand into hers and leans on my shoulder. At least I’m able to handle her closeness this time.
“I’m going to be asleep in about five minutes if you don’t entertain me.”
I grin just barely. “How am I supposed to keep you entertained?”
She shrugs. “You could talk to me about how you stole my lotion.” She sits up, looks at me, and asks, “Did you really take my lotion?”
“I did.”
“I’ma go upstairs and steal some of your stuff.”
I chuckle. “You can take whatever you want, angel.”
“That cologne you wear has me in a chokehold every time I smell it. That’s why I made out with your jacket in my office earlier.”
“You did what?”
She giggles. “You heard what I said. I might be a little bit obsessed with you, too. Just a wee bit.”
“That’s good to know.”
She squeezes my hand. “What do you like to do around here? You don’t strike me as a man who watches a lot of TV.”
“I’m not.”
“Okay, sooo…you just sit here and stare at walls?”
“Something like that.”
She nudges me. “Whatever, Khen.”
“I have no real life outside of work.”
“Okay. Let’s get in the hot tub.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
I give her a long, hard stare. She should know by now why I can’t get in a hot tub with her. I simply answer, “Because I can’t.”
“Why can’t you?”
“Livia—”
“I’m going to keep asking you until you give me an answer. You’re always being elusive with me.”
“Okay—I’m trying to take things slow with you.”
“So, you usually don’t take things slow with your women.”
My stare automatically turns into a glare. I already told her there was never anyone else. I don’t understand why she keeps pressing me about it. I say, “I don’t want to hear you say anything like that again.”
“What? It was a valid question.”
“It wasn’t. I told you I don’t have women. It’s only you. You’re the only woman I want. I knew it from the moment I saw you. Would you like for me to inscribe it in stone to make it real for you because it’s real for me?”
“No. I just—” She releases my hand. “I find it a bit odd the way you talk to me. You say things that imply I’m already yours.”
“You are. It’s just a matter of time before it’s official.”
“You’re that confident?”
“I am.”
She’s quiet for a moment, then takes my hand again and asks, “What does life look like for you other than working? Do you want children?”
“I do. You?”
“Eventually, yes. I’m not in a hurry though. I always feel like I need to be better so I can be the best version of myself for them. Children shouldn’t be raised in chaos.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
She leans on my shoulder again and rests.
Minutes go by. When she doesn’t say anything more, I know she’s asleep. I can feel her breathing pattern change. I sit here a while more until she’s out so when I make her more comfortable, she doesn’t wake up.
An hour later, I ease up and walk down the hallway to one of the guest bedrooms downstairs. I pull back the covers, fluff the pillows, and then return to the den to get her. I carefully pick her up – she’s as light as a feather – and carry her into the room.
I lower her to the bed, pull up the covers, and say, “Goodnight, angel.”
She moves a little and adjusts on the pillows. She’s still out.
I sit on the edge of the bed and watch her.
I’m in awe.
My heart races. My fingers twitch to outline her face.
I should leave her in peace, but I can’t. Even when she sleeps, she draws me in.