Chapter 5 Khloe
Khloe
I wanted Kairo to know I was pissed. So I got my shit and slept in the guest room. Not the cute one with the plush pillows and calming lavender diffuser either. The one with the stiff-ass mattress and barely any blankets. I didn’t care. I just couldn’t be around him.
I couldn’t let him touch me, hug me, or try to kiss it all better when I needed—no, deserved—more than a band-aid apology.
I cried all motherfucking night, balled up in an oversized T-shirt, just letting the heartbreak fall out of me with no effort to stop it. If I’d stayed in the room with him, he would’ve tried to talk me down and hold me whispering, “We’ll figure it out, Khlo.” But I was tired of figuring it out.
Greece was my dream trip. My dream destination.
When we got married, we didn’t get a real honeymoon—we had a baby instead.
And school. And bills. And life. We honestly hadn’t taken a real vacation in years, and I’d been planning Greece for so long, keeping it together when everything around me felt like it was falling apart.
All I wanted… was my man. His undivided attention and presence. For once.
The next morning, I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the guest bathroom, trying to zip up the back of my dress.
It was a soft, silk champagne color. One of my favorites, but the damn zipper wouldn’t budge past the small of my back.
I twisted and reached as best as I could before I just gave up.
I looked good, but I felt heavy. Not from the dress but from everything else.
It was a beautiful day.
Kross had planned a ceremony for Rivah, his way of adopting her into the family after she’d broken down one night and told him she didn’t feel like she belonged to anyone anymore.
Her parents were no longer living, and he wanted to make her a part of his family.
Forever. That was the kind of love I dreamed of being wrapped in again.
The kind that made you feel chosen… every single day.
Kennedi would’ve been my go-to for help with the zipper, but she’d already left with Mamma G to help set up, and there was no way around it, so I had to walk down the hall and face the one person I didn’t want to talk to.
Our bedroom smelled like his cologne and fresh linen. I hated that I missed him even though I was mad as hell. He was standing in front of the mirror, buttoning up his shirt, but as soon as he saw me, he froze like he’d seen a damn ghost.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
I wanted to stay stone-faced, but it chipped away at me. Just a little.
“Thank you,” I said. “We’re gonna be late. Can you zip me up?”
He nodded and walked over slowly. I turned around, letting the dress fall just enough so he could reach the zipper. His fingers were warm.
Before I could step away, he leaned in and kissed the back of my neck.
“We’ll figure it out,” he whispered against my skin.
I didn’t flinch, but I didn’t respond either. I’d already told myself the night before that I was going to enjoy Greece. With or without him.
I’d already started mentally removing him from the trip, the pictures, the plans.
Love wasn’t always enough. So sometimes, you have to love yourself a little more.
The ceremony was perfect.
Kross had everyone in tears—especially Rivah—when he stood in front of all of us and said that from this day forward, she was no longer just his woman… but his family. That she didn’t have to carry the weight of being no one’s daughter anymore.
The way he loved her was loud, proud, and undeniable. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other all night. They were always sneaking kisses, holding hands, whispering and giggling like no one else was in the room.
It made my chest ache because I remembered when that was me and Kairo.
There was a time when just being in the same room felt like a magnet was pulling us closer, no matter who was watching. That used to be us… and after nearly sixteen years of marriage even being in the same house sometimes felt like we were a hundred miles apart.
I looked over at Niv and Kendrix too. Another example.
Kairo wasn’t a big fan of Niv. Not because she did anything to him personally, but because of things that happened with his father and the messiness surrounding all of that.
But what I respected the most about Kendrix was that he never let anyone dictate how he moved with his woman.
Either you respected her… or you respected the distance he was willing to put between himself and the people who didn’t want her around.
I wanted that. I wanted Kairo to fight for me like that.
To make me the priority no matter what his clients, his father, or the Givelle name required of him.
I exhaled and sipped my drink, sitting around with Rivah and Niv while the rest of the guests filtered out.
“I’m so proud of you,” I told Rivah, brushing a small tear away. “That man loves you out loud. It's beautiful.”
Rivah smiled, still glowing. “I love him just as loud back.”
We all laughed a little. I miss the old days when life didn’t feel so heavy and love didn’t require a PowerPoint presentation and a scheduling assistant.
I decided to tell them about the Greece trip. Or what was left of it.
I didn’t go into details though. I didn’t feel like justifying Kairo’s logic or explaining his “reasoning” behind pushing the flight back.
And I especially didn’t feel like hearing Niv say something heartfelt and reasonable that made me question everything I was feeling.
She had too much grace sometimes. The kind that could talk you into surrender when you needed to rage just a little longer.
And Rivah? Who knows what she’d say. Her mind was so wrapped around Kross that I doubted she’d be the best source of unbiased advice.
So I kept it simple.
“Kairo’s not going to Greece.”
Both their faces shifted, concern settling in.
I shrugged like it didn’t matter. “It is what it is.”
Just when I thought we’d settle into way more girl talk, the men came and found us.
“Y’all tryna hit GivGold tonight?” Kendrix asked, already holding his keys like we didn’t have a choice.
Kross had Rivah by the waist and was whispering something in her ear that made her giggle.
As much as I wanted to say no, go home, and try to spend some kind of meaningful time with Kairo, I knew better. Maybe if I got some drinks in him… Maybe if the dancers at GivGold got the party started, I could finish it when we got back home.
Maybe then I could end my night with rounds and rounds of pleasure with Kairo.
“Yeah,” I said, finishing the rest of my drink and standing up. “Let’s go.”
I was three shots in and feeling real good.
The bass from the speakers vibrated through the soles of my heels, and I swayed in my seat, slow dancing with the music even while sitting still. My head was bobbing, mouthing the words, letting the liquor sit warm in my chest.
We were all in our section at GivGold, the bottle girls doing their usual parade with sparklers and smiles, but for once, I wasn’t focused on any of that. I was actually enjoying myself. Until I noticed Kairo… doing the most.
This man was really sitting there trying to play matchmaker for Kordai.
I watched him lean over, whispering something in Kordai’s ear, and whatever it was had both of them cracking up.
But I wasn’t laughing because how do you have time to fix someone else’s love life and play match maker when your own wife was starving in the middle of your marriage?
Sweep around your own damn front door before you try sweeping around somebody else’s.
Kordai had always been a soft spot in my heart.
It started when we were teens and Kairo’s parents only let us go somewhere if we took him along.
He became my little sidekick quick. When he got sentenced those three years…
it hurt all of us. I remember crying in the shower so Kairo wouldn’t hear me.
That boy had been through so much, and I still played overprotective big sis because out of everyone else he always shared personal things with me.
So when that beautiful, chocolate woman came and grabbed him from the table, I couldn’t help myself. I pulled out my phone and texted him a simple question mark.
He replied instantly:
Chill sis, this is just an old friend. Second time running into each other.
Mhmm.
I locked my phone and slid it back into my purse just in time to hear Rivah yell, “SHOT O’CLOCK!” holding up a tray full of tequila.
We all grabbed one and knocked them back like we were twenty-one again.
The DJ started spinning a few old school slow jams, and when “Unpredictable” by Jamie Foxx came on, I damn near lost it. That was our song. One of the many we used to pretend we wrote ourselves.
Kairo and I stood up together and started singing every word to each other, off key but on beat, laughing.
He was tipsy and loose, not the rigid businessman version of himself that I’d been stuck with lately. He was my Kairo. The one who danced like nobody was watching and sang like he didn’t care if they were.
I turned around and started dancing on him letting the music guide me. He immediately hyped me up, hands in the air yelling “Yeahhh!” like I was doing backflips or something, and the whole crew joined in hyping me up too.
I was on a high. A real one.
He grabbed my waist, his lips on my neck, his body pressing into mine, and for a split second, nothing else mattered. Not the arguments. Not Greece. Not the guilt I still felt from the things I say out of hurt and anger. Not the tears from the guest room the night before.
Just us. Laughing, moving, and touching.
He was enjoying me again, and I couldn’t wait to get him home.
We were loud as hell walking through our front door, stumbling in like two teenagers who had no business being outside that late.
I couldn’t stop laughing and neither could he.
“Shhhh,” I whispered, leaning into him for support, even though we both knew damn well there was no one home to wake up.