Page 85 of Mine to Worship

“It cost me the only woman I have ever loved. The thrill was gone until I met Esther…”

It’s the first time in my life that I see his eyes sparkle. His entire posture shifts and he becomes a repository of memories.

“She was spectacular. Until her, I didn’t even know your heart could leap in your chest. By then, I had begun collecting art in a desperate attempt to preserve something. I was getting older but felt even older than that. She happened after years of abstinence and a vacuum of human warmth. She became my light.

“When I told Olivia, she wanted to meet Esther. I would go as far as to say I was loyal to one and bound by the other. Only Richard had a problem with it. Destiny happens in the decisions you make in seconds, and that’s what happened. I chose wrong.”

His voice booms with regrets and silence stretches as he collects himself.

“Both Olivia and Esther were hospitalized on the same day. My son begged me to go to his mother first, saying he’d look after Esther. Olivia was diagnosed with a psychosis, and Esther lost our baby. She disappeared the next day. Even with all my money and influence, it took me years to find her.”

He slumps, his lips pursed, and I recognize this pain.

“I can remember that day. I came too late. Love is what makes life so damn appealing. I returned home to a woman who didn’t recognize me anymore, not even her own son most of the time, but she would recognize you and scream the house down.”

I remember that as I remember everything. They are wounds stitched on my heart with the pleas of a child for love when he only got rejection.

“What did Richard do?”

“He went to see Esther at the hospital and threw a check in her face. He told her that was the worth of a whore to his father.” Anger stretches the lines around his mouth.

“How did you find out?”

“Years later, I heard him telling his mother how he took his pound of flesh from you, and what he had done to her.”

“I can’t forgive you,” I say, calmness infusing my bloodstream. The boy in me won’t know the love he deserved as a child, but I refuse to lose the love the man in me could get because of that.

“I accept that.”

“But I will try. You and Brandon were the people I returned for.”

He crosses one leg over the other.

“And for the Light in Chaos painting,” he reminds me with a smug expression. “An old friend called me to tell me that Ellia was ready to put herself out there again, and I made sure you found out about it,” he says, with no trace of shame.

“Don’t expect a thank you anytime soon.”

“It was destiny that inextricably linked you. You have something in common. You’ve spent years hiding.”

I cock my head to one side, gesturing for him to continue.

“I wanted you to feel the thrill, that love. Nothing else compares to it, no other achievement. And look at you now, you are happy, and about to become a father.”

I push myself off the office desk and say, “Old man, don’t take credit for something you didn’t do. Ellia deserves a better man, not a fucked-up man, but it’s too late. I don’t know if I should thank you or punch you.”

“Thank you,” he says, and I shake my head and chuckle.

Walter stands up and places the empty glass next to mine and says, “Richard wanted to break your spirit because he saw in you what he never could be, strength. You depended on no one and took everything he threw at you like a true fighter.” He claps my shoulder. “And this is why I chose you. You survived on the streets, you survived in the rings, you survived mental and physical abuse, and when you came back, you offered me half a million dollars for that painting. How did you do it, Kian?” The corners of his eyes crinkle with pride.

I jerk my chin and shove my hands into my pockets.

“With sweat, blood, and punches, old man.” In those two years of my hiatus, I met not only Kendrick and Jason, but people that are more powerful than he or anyone else can imagine. I call those people friends. We have each other’s backs.

Walter nods, a pensive expression on his face, the lines on his forehead getting deeper with every encounter. He’s getting older. I shake myself of that unpleasant thought.

“I have to go check on my wife.”

I walk past him and, when I am at the door, he says, “You’re the best thing that happened to me even though you deserved more than me and this family. I am proud of the man you became. You took your destiny in your own hands, and you’ll be an amazing father.”

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