“No, but—”
“How about you sleep in, have brunch, and then enjoy a day in the spa courtesy of your boss?”
“That’s not necessary,” I tried to argue. He shot me a pitying glance before we entered the elevator with Desi and the other two bodyguards who joined us on the trip.
“Self-care is essential, Kiyah.”
I relented because I felt we were talking in circles and getting nowhere.
“Fine. If you insist.”
“I do. I’ll make the arrangements.”
We entered the suite, and I didn’t hesitate to select the nearest bedroom. I closed the door behind me and kicked off my shoes. I stripped off my clothing and committed to taking the hottest shower known to man. It wasn’t until I was completely drenched that I realized I hadn’t grabbed my suitcase from Sutton, Desi’s second-in-command.
I examined the toiletries the hotel provided and was relieved to find quality products.
As I showered, I tried not to think about my brief exchange with Grant and how my heartstrings tugged from hearing his voice. Nothing was endearing about the conversation in the least bit, but pathetically, I’d been missing him, and I was so fucked up that I’d take the harsh words rather than nothing at all. My therapist and I were working on it, but it was like the saying went: Rome wasn’t built in a day.
I wondered if he hated me for how everything panned out. His alcoholism was revealed, he was forced to step down from the firm and enter inpatient rehab, and was going through a divorce. On paper, he’d hit rock bottom, and I was partly to blame.
We shouldn’t have ever crossed that line and indulged in our longing for one another. Naivety and hormones convinced us we’d have a happily-ever-after and that we were somehow impervious to the curveballs life sometimes threw. We were under the impression that our love was unique—that we loved differently, fought differently, and fucked differently than the other billions of people on the planet. In reality, our relationship after the wedding was a soap opera, and the network finally decided not to renew it for another season.
The worst part of it all was knowing there would come a time when I’d disappoint my family again. Because as much as Grant deserved to move on with his life and be happy with someone else, I couldn’t be present for it. I couldn’t attend family functions with his girlfriend or pick out a generous wedding gift for the happy couple, and I’d never be the doting aunt. I wouldn’t stick around to watch my dream become someone else’s reality.
And I’m a hypocrite for feeling this way because I had the dream but allowed it to slip through my fingers like tiny grains of sand. He was right. I am selfish.
I dried off and wrapped a towel around myself before entering the bedroom, where I found my suitcase resting at the foot of the bed. My jaw ticked. I was stuck between being annoyed that someone had entered my room while I was in the shower and grateful that I didn’t have to put on dirty clothes to go hunt it down.
After lotioning and completing the rest of my night routine, I threw on one of Grant’s shirts that somehow made it into my suitcase when he packed it and kicked my ass to the curb. Thedelusional part of me tried rationalizing that he put the shirt in my suitcase on purpose, while the sane side reminded me that he was blindly tossing clothes into the bag, and it meant nothing.
I climbed into bed, turned off the lamp, and closed my eyes. Approximately two seconds later, I received a calendar notification. I checked it and groaned at the Virtual Sister Brunch that was scheduled for 11:00 AM.
I declined, only to receive another notification a few seconds later: the sisters’ brunch with an additional guest had been pushed back to 11:30 AM.
“Fuck, I’ll be there,” I said, confirming my attendance before passing out.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Kiyah
I was slowly getting ready for the day when I heard a knock at my door.
“Who is it?”
“I took the pleasure of ordering your brunch before Pete and I headed out for the day. I’m leaving it outside your door. We should return around 6:00. Would you like to join us for dinner?”
“No, thank you, but thanks for the offer,” I called out.
“Well, if you change your mind, just let us know.”
“Will do. Thanks for ordering my food. Have a good day,” I insisted, tugging on a pair of athletic leggings.
I opened the door to retrieve my brunch and was surprised to see everything laid out on a cart. My stomach twisted in knots from the sight of the sumptuous meal. I burped when I noticed the caviar and salmon, and closed my eyes in an attempt to regain my composure. As wealthy as my family was, brunch for us never included caviar. We were more along the lines of chicken and waffles or steak, eggs, and potatoes kind of brunch people, and at the moment, I’d kill for a bowl of cheese grits.
“Is everything okay, Ms. Kiyah?” Sutton asked. I jolted from the sudden intrusion. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized.
“It’s fine. I just didn’t expect anyone to be here.”