Page 89 of Played
Adina.
But . . .
“I feel so guilty.” I inhale a shuddering gulp of air. “Kendra should be here. Raising our son. Seeing him grow. And the guilt that she’s not and I am tears me apart. The guilt that I’m betraying her by bringing another woman into Khalil’s life. That I’m ...”
“Go on and say it, bro.” Ken unbuckles his seat belt and reaches across the space separating our seats to grasp my hands. As if he’s giving me physical and emotional support to say the words that are lodged in my throat but expanding in my chest until my ribs threaten to crack under the pressure. “That you’re falling for another woman,” he supplies when I can’t.
I open my eyes, meeting the steady strength in his.
“Yeah,” I rasp. “That I’m falling for another woman.”
Fear speeds through me, whistling and screaming like a runaway train. But it’s a bright, painful blast. And afterward ... afterward, that weight starts to shift, crack, and slowly fall apart. Am I still afraid? Yeah. Hell yeah. And not just because I’ve decided to walk out of the anger, guilt, and sorrow of my past.
But because I’m also choosing to walk into an uncertain future that looks nothing like what I’m leaving behind.
I’m through running, though. Thinking back on the last two weeks without Adina in my life—talking to her, touching her, seeing her smile, fucking her—I’ve been miserable. And so has Khalil. Nate and Caroline have been preaching about putting his best interest first. What if Adinais his best interest? He’s blossomed under her attention. He adores her. How can that not be the best for him?
And me.
I’m not going to lie; her job still terrifies me. And getting that call and walking into that hospital room to see her lying in the bed? It reminded me of all that I’d lost—all that I still had to lose. But Ken’s right. I can no longer live my life like that, because it’s not living. It’s white-knuckling life. It’s existing, and I’m tired of that.
In no time since Kendra’s passing have I ever regretted a second spent with her, regretting the family and amazing years we shared. Even if it meant losing her all over again just to have those years with her, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
So how can I not embrace this possible future I could have with Adina? I’m not God. I can’t predict what will happen, but I can enjoy and cherish the fuck out of the time I have. Loving Adina is worth the risk of possibly facing one day without her.
“Thank fuck for that.” Ken smiles, falling back against his seat. “My next move was getting your ass out on that ice and slapping you a few times with the puck. You know I’m a pacifist, but I would’ve made an exception for you.”
I snort. Pacifist. This is the same person who was just in the penalty box twice tonight for fighting.
Shaking my head, I stare down at my ring finger. And for the first time in two years, there’s a peace mingling among the sadness. There’s hope.
“Thanks, Ken. I mean that. I appreciate you.”
“Nah, Solomon.” He waves off my words. “You’re my brother. If I can’t snatch you up, who can?” He stretches, then pulls down the shade on the window as we receive instructions from the pilot that we’re about to take off. “But now I feel like I need to crush a few beer cans against my head to balance all this sensitive shit.”
I laugh, tugging down my shade, too, and it feels ... light. Real.
“Now, if that’s not some toxic-masculinity bullshit.”
He smirks. “Spell it.”
Flipping him off, I smile and settle back in my seat. We’ll arrive home in Providence in about four hours. Plenty of time to figure out how to begin reversing the damage I’ve inflicted.
And how to convince Adina that we belong together.
“I don’t need you to get my door, Graham. But if you’ll wait here, I’ll be back out.”
Graham nods from the front seat of the Range Rover, and I push out of the car, climbing the steps to my in-laws’ house. I knock, my stomach twisting and nerves spilling through me as I wait for the door to open.
Moments later, Caroline answers, and she smiles at me, stepping back so I can enter.
“Hey, Solomon,” she greets. “C’mon in.”
“Thanks.” I move inside the foyer and glance up at the staircase leading to the second level of their palatial home. “Khalil’s asleep?”
“Oh yes. He’s been down for a couple of hours,” she says, closing the door behind me. “I had the guest room prepared for you since it’s so late and—”
“I appreciate that, but I’ll go get him. We’re headed home tonight.”
