by Mason, V. F.
He squeezes my palm and glances down at me, his blue eyes filled with remorse and guilt. The eyes that used to brighten up whenever I entered the room, and isn’t it funny how everything changes with love?
A person you can’t live without becomes the one you can’t imagine living with anymore.
And the person you hated the most becomes vitally important to you and the only protection you have in this world.
“I should have listened to you. I should have been on your side. I’m sorry I wasn’t.” His voice turns husky and he clears it. “If nothing else, please believe I’m deeply sorry.”
A sad smile spreads on my mouth. “We’ve known each other for more than ten years, Sebastian. Say the truth. It won’t hurt me.” Doesn’t he remember I always know when he’s lying?
He tenses and takes a deep breath. “It’s not a lie. I’m sorry for what you had to go through.”
“But you are not sorry you haven’t stayed by my side. Because you met Felicia.” He freezes, stumbling a little, but we quickly resume our dance. “That’s why you feel so guilty. I didn’t understand it before, but I do now. You don’t have to apologize for loving her,” I finally say, oddly finding freedom in these words, and some of the pressure from my chest disappears, forever locking the door that has been closed for years.
But with this, I put a seal on it that nothing will be able to break. Our relationship has become nothing but a fleeting, beautiful memory that has a bittersweet feeling to it.
“Do you really love Zachary?” he asks, since he can’t argue my earlier statement, but before I can answer, he continues, “I was so angry he was there. I thought he wanted to torment you. He was even acting all territorial, but it turns out I was wrong. You guys are actually together. I’d never have thought that.” He pushes me away, holding my hand, and twirls me on the parquet before catching me in his arms again. “I hope you will be happy with him. You deserve it.”
“We both deserve to be happy without shadows of the past hanging over our heads.” I pat his shoulder. “We were just not meant to be, but I’m thankful for everything, Sebastian.”
Even for not reading my letter, because this man would have been crushed with guilt if he had known about our baby.
I don’t wish such pain on anyone, least of all Sebastian.
I think that maybe this closure will be one of the stepping-stones to my future where the past will no longer haunt me.
And maybe there is hope for a brighter future that includes a man like Zachary.
Even if the idea scares me to death.
Chapter Twenty
“They say the greatest love comes when you least expect it, and it’s true.
When we run around chasing it, it never slows down long enough for us to catch it.
The minute we let go though, love jumps on you, trapping you in its net with no way of escape.
The same analogy works with pain too.
The agonizing pain that rips you in two comes when you least expect it.
And in such, it delivers a strong blow that not everyone can withstand.”
Phoenix
Zachary
The wooden clock on the office’s wall ticks loudly in the stretched silence as my father and I sit opposite each other, separated by the massive oak desk.
Holding a glass of whiskey in my hand, I rub it against my cheek while I study the environment around me, wondering if it has always been so… grim and dark.
The walls are painted in white and brown with photos hanging on them, showcasing Dad with his loved ones in different stages of his life.
Some of them are with my mom, with me as a kid, his other family, and finally an endless row of him and Emmaline where they both laugh happily into the camera.
It has always astonished me with how easily Dad accepted his granddaughter and never asked me any questions about it, although he probably had plenty.
As a kid, I loved to sneak in here and hide under his desk while he had various business calls, studying him in those moments in awe, because he seemed so powerful then.
With a single order, he closed deals, fired or hired people, and continued to expand his empire that a little boy like me couldn’t help but want to emulate when he grew up.
After my room, his office had been one of my favorite places to hang out and feel closer to Dad, listening to his every word of advice while dreaming of becoming like him some day and owning the same office.
Funny how our perspective changes as we grow up.
Now, this place is the one I avoid like the plague, because it no longer holds any special meaning for me.
Dad picks up the pen from the desk and twists it between his fingers back and forth, and with another tick-tock, I’ve finally had enough of this shit.
My good-mannered respect for the old man lasts only for so long. “What was so urgent that you had to talk to me?” I ask, and his eyes raise to me, still fucking unreadable. “Because if all we’re going to do is sit and twiddle our thumbs, I’m going to go back to my fiancée.” I stand up, ready to bolt from here, and I wish I could say it’s only because of Phoenix.
But the truth is?
I have no idea how to stay in my dad’s company long enough to not throw an insult his way, and I fucking hate it. A man my age shouldn’t be so hung up on the past that he continues to lash out like a teenager who lacks attention.
Somehow though, whenever we have our conversations, that boy from the past rears his head and continues to deliver verbal blows with no plan of putting old feuds to rest.
“Sit down,” he barks, and to my fucking astonishment, I do, the ice cubes clacking against each other in my glass. “A father doesn’t find out about his son’s engagement through social media.”
“Yeah, well, Dad, I think I forgot the memo where we are close.”
“I’m your father.”
“Really? Could have fooled me. Besides, I’m in no mood to listen to your lectures about how it might hurt your precious princess and her knight in shining armor.” Because that’s what it’s about, right?
Always about their fucking feelings and never mine.
Dad exhales a heavy breath, pinching the bridge of his nose before focusing his stare back on me, and this time I see anger on his face, but also… exhaustion? For the first time, his age is showing on his face, and it stirs something inside me, although I do my best to squash it hard.
Emotions are dangerous, as they have the power to rule you, and I don’t have that luxury with my father anymore.
If I ever did.
“When will it stop, Zach?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
He motions with his hand between us. “This distance and animosity that you have put on us through the years. When will it stop?” His hand squeezes the pen so hard the top of it pops up and falls on the floor. “It has been twenty-five years since Katherine died.”
Everything inside me goes still at the mention of my mom’s name, and finishing my drink quickly, I put the glass on the table for fear of fucking breaking it. The anger and rage rush through my veins, boiling to such a point that I can’t help but lash out.
Once fucking again. “Surprised to hear you remember about her.”
Dad hits the desk with his fists, the things on it jumping up and landing back with a loud clatter. “Damn it!” he roars and then takes a deep breath. “I loved your mother with everything in me.”
I can’t fucking believe he decided to start this conversation tonight and here of all places! After years of me trying to talk to him, with him constantly brushing off my concerns and feelings until I got fed up, now he’s finally decided to settle this?
Is he out of his fucking mind?
This ship sailed a long time ago, and there is no fucking way we can catch up with it now!
“Right. That’s why you remarried so quickly, huh? Because you loved her so much.” The sarcasm and disgust pours from my every word. “And brought Olivia and her kids to this hou
se. To Mom’s house!” I shout the last part and see Dad’s hands trembling a little as he threads his fingers through his hair.
The silence that follows my words is almost deafening; my heart beats so loudly in my chest I can practically feel it in my throat, and my palms sweat. Not matter how much I will myself to calm down, I can’t get a grip on my emotions, and hate fills me too.
Hate for him wanting to talk tonight when I have to be cold and detached in order to catch the unsub who fucking plays with me as if I’m his personal favorite toy.
His talk is twenty-five years too late.
“Is it such a crime to love again, Zach?” Dad whispers, but he might as well have shouted; his words have the same effect on me, and then our gazes connect, his tortured and my surprised. “Love has no time limit. Sometimes, you think it takes ages to love a woman, but then you see her, and… it clicks. It just clicks, son,” he says, running his hand over his face. “I lived and breathed for your mother. But she died.”
I laugh bitterly. “Don’t talk to me about her. And you know what? If it ends all this shit, how about this? I’m so fucking happy you found Olivia. You did good, Dad. Are you happy now?” With this, I once again get up, and I’m ready to get the fuck out of here so I can finally escape this shit, this emotionally exhausting situation where my father and I speak in different languages because we can never see this situation through the same prism.
He fell in love. Was it a crime? No.
But why, with his fucking love, did he forget about his first family? Send me to boarding school? Always took their side over mine?
He loved those children. Was it a bad thing? No.
Why then did he give them the things he hasn’t given to me? Why did he keep them close while I suffered in the distance, losing not only one but two parents at the same time?
His choices built the foundation of our relationship, and I refuse to take responsibility for this. He was the father back then. It was his job to fix our relationship, not mine.
Although I tried. God knows I’ve tried.
“You loved Angelica,” he says, and I still, half turning to him to see him rise from his chair and plant both his hands on the desk, bending toward me. “You loved her. I saw it in your eyes. And then I saw you crumbling when she died. You know what happens to a parent when he sees his child suffer?” He taps on his heart. “It hurts here. It hurts even more when you know you can do nothing to help them.” He picks up one of the frames, holding Emmaline’s picture. “Then you adopted her, and everything changed. She pulled you out of your grief.”
“Don’t, Dad. Don’t drag my daughter into this,” I warn him, because I’m not like him. I don’t let my personal life affect that of my child.
“You loved Angelica. Do you love Phoenix?” I say nothing, only grit my teeth harsher, and he chuckles, although sadness laces it. “You can’t even admit it to yourself that you love her. Because it’s scary. To love a woman again after you lost your first love.”
“Don’t,” I say again, hating all this fucking crap that messes with my head, but my father hasn’t built his empire because he stopped when someone asked him to.
Oh no.
He always went for the win, and that’s exactly what he’s doing now. “I was a fool. Love doesn’t happen once in a lifetime. It happens as many times as you get that gift from life. So please, for the love of God, cherish it and don’t run away from it.” He points into the open space. “I don’t know why you did this engagement, but, son, I hope you won’t lose the woman you fell in love with fast due to the crap I told you in the past.”
Wrapping my hand around the doorknob, I say quietly, “It’s a bit too late for advice, Dad. Just accept our relationship and don’t push for more.” And maybe I should listen to myself too.
Accept all of it and bury my resentment in the ground, not dwelling on what could have been and enjoy what there is.
“Have you thought what will happen when she knows that Emmaline is her child?”
I freeze, my face still focused on the door, but I hear the thumping of his leather shoes coming closer to me.
“I never you asked you questions about her, because I knew.”
Of course he did. I handled it through people who worked with him. Did I really think they wouldn’t share my secret with him?
The loyalty of these people belonged with the older King and not me.
“Dad, I’m not a boy.” All this concern is a little bit too late, and what does he want to hear anyway? Gratitude for keeping my secret? “And I didn’t ask for your help.”
He places his hand on my shoulder and squeezes it, not trying to turn me around or anything, and I think it’s the first time Dad has touched me since…
Since a long time ago, I can’t even remember the last time we were this close without engaging in a shouting match.
“I know. But I’m still here to offer it. Try not to lose the people you love the most. Because once she knows the truth, she will want to get away from you and take her daughter with her.” One more squeeze before he lets go. “So don’t hold back your love, son. It will be your only saving grace in this situation.”
Love.
Such a short word that means the fucking world.
I can’t get out of the room fast enough, his words playing in my mind while the voice inside me screams to listen to him and confess to Phoenix, but how can I do it now?
Any distractions might cost us our lives, and I won’t ever take risks with them again.
And the old man didn’t have to preach to me about love, because I know the magnitude of my emotions toward her, even if they’re wrong and shouldn’t be there with our past and the short amount of time we have truly known each other.
Although sometimes it feels like she’s been with me for the last four years, because every thought of her consumed my mind.
My body is still shaking from the conversation though, and I desperately need Phoenix to calm the storm within me. Standing in the entrance to the common room, my eyes search among countless guests for her in the shimmering dress that has the power to blind a person if he is not careful enough.
And then I finally spot her, only for the roaring rage to return, sinking its claws into me while the beast inside me demands I go to her.
As she is dancing with Sebastian right in the middle of the dance floor, with his hand on her waist while a smile graces her lips, and she is so fucking relaxed, like he is not the man who hurt her, dumping her in the pits of hell for all the demons to feast on her flesh.
Jealousy and possessiveness are not emotions familiar to me, because I never experienced them to this extent with my late wife. Angelica was always by my side and gazed at me with such love I never had to worry about other men and their glances toward my wife.
Instead, I was proud that they studied the beautiful creature who belonged to me.
With Phoenix though? Just the idea of any man looking at her and wondering what it’s like to have her in his arms, or all her beauty for his pleasure, awakens the beast inside me that wants their blood and to hide her away from them.
Especially from the man who had her heart for so long and knows her better than anyone, knows her in a way she hasn’t opened up to me, and was a man who she chose willingly.
Instead of me, who pushed himself on her, with her constantly denying our pull for each other and cursing it to hell and back.
Phoenix is mine though, with resistance or not, and my fucking name is not Zachary King if Sebastian thinks he can waltz in here, dangling their past in my face, and can steal my girls from me.
I don’t give a fuck how I got them; I’ll never, ever allow anyone to take them away from me.
Be it Sebastian, the unsub, or Phoenix herself.
Barely controlling my desire to dart toward them and punch him in the face for everyone to see, so he has no doubt where he stands with my woman, I crack my neck to the side, hook my thumbs into my pants pockets, and curving my mouth in a s
inister smile, I stroll lazily through the room with everyone’s eyes darting between me and the dancing couple, anticipation written all over their faces, probably thinking they will get another scene soon to share with the world.
After all, by the gossip standards, the party has been dull so far, but I was never there to please, was I?
Charlie appears next to me, matching my movements, and says, “Let’s not do anything irrational, okay? It will fuck your image.” He offers me a champagne glass, but I ignore it, countering to walk toward my woman.
“Since when do you give a shit about my public image?”
“Since you are the CEO, and my money depends on you.” He finishes his glass. “And despite you being an asshole, I still respect you. Although I hate your guts for always being mean to my mom.”
“Yeah, that’s reasonable.” I agree with him on this, because if someone had talked to mine the way I allow myself to speak to Olivia, I would have beat the crap out of them despite my mom’s request not to.
He forcefully stops me with his hand gripping my shoulder, and I turn to him, although my eyes are still on my woman, who still fucking dances with her ex-husband, but now they are laughing! “Zach, he danced with her because Felicia asked him to. Okay? So—”
“Charlie, I appreciate the concern, but I don’t give a fuck.”
He huffs in exasperation and amusement. “Because we aren’t family, right?”
“No, because I can’t stand seeing my woman in the arms of another man.” Charlie’s eyes widen in shock, and to be fucking honest, so do mine that I even shared this much with him. “So, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to talk to my fiancée. Without causing a scene,” I add, for whose sake I don’t know.
But then again, maybe I should let go of my resentment to the kids who weren’t at fault for how much my father loved them. It’s not like they ever tried to push me out of the family.
I did it all on my own when I didn’t accept them.
“Well, fine. I wouldn’t like to see my boyfriend in another’s man arms either,” he says with a wink and takes a large sip from the glass I refused. “Besides, I think Felicia is going to explode with worry if they chat a minute longer.”
