Page 105 of Mine to Worship

“What angel?”

“Did you talk to Andre for him to give me more time?”

“No, angel, mostly because if I did and you found out, well, you wouldn’t like it. Only if you asked me.”

She studies my face, seeking the truth, and I raise my hands in defense.

“Besides I never met a more stubborn person than Andre, he wouldn’t be easily persuaded,” I add and she offers a nod, believing me. Her trust is something I will never risk again.

“I have never met someone like him, and in a world where you’re easily replaced, too.”

“You can’t replace value. No one knows that more than him.” He and I had to lose the ones we love in order to find out what we had. I crack my neck, the muscles stiff. The thought alone of Ellia leaving me paralyzes me. My mood shifts into a sea, quiet on the surface, brooding on the inside.

“You’re quiet tonight,” she says.

Did I actually believe she wouldn’t notice? Why do I have to be so fucking selfish? I clear my head of the poisonous thoughts.

“My head is still at work,” I reply, and it’s only a half lie. My team handled everything better than I expected. The plans for a new opening lay on the table for me to sign, and the foundation is already standing. “When did you tell Andre you could get to Paris?”

“When Kira is six months old.” She is beaming.

I drink her in, her dreamy eyes, and round cheeks, the happiness written on her face.

“How is Brandon? I miss him,” she tells me.

He misses her, too, he even warned me he resigns if he doesn’t take tomorrow off to see Ellia. I agreed.

“You two will have all day tomorrow.”

“Really?”

Her blue eyes shine, and I don’t want to feel jealous, but I am. A part of me will always be. Brandon has everything so damn easy, even her love and forgiveness, and I will forever ask myself if without our baby we would have been here. I drain a glass of sparkling water.

Since I set foot back into this city, everything has come rushing back. The struggle, my fight with my past, me pushing myself to prove I am not an intruder, nor the bastard I have been destined to be.

We finish our meal, and I round the island and lift her into my arms. I carry her into the theater room, and inhale her sweet vanilla scent, centering myself in this moment with her. I massage her feet while the movie plays.

She moans and, once I’m done, I shower her with kisses. She’s my anchor, the proof I must be good enough if she has set her eyes on me. Ellia falls asleep in my arms, and I carry her to bed, tucking her in.

With my demons demanding their pound of flesh, I know sleep is off the table.

I take the elevator downstairs and, to my surprise, Kendrick is there. He throws boxing gloves at me wordlessly. He knows me, and he may not be blood, but he is more a brother than I could have wished for. With every punch, the tension eases, and I can breathe again.

Two hours later as my hair and sweat blur my vision, he lands a punch, and we drop on our assess.

“Has this city always fucked with my head?” I ask him.

“Your head is fucking with your head,” he says, eyeing me with an intent look.

“How did you know to come tonight?”

“A hunch.” He tears the gauze off, his black eyes staring into nothingness. Sounds like I am not the only one in need of letting off some steam.

“I don’t intend to stay here much longer,” I confess to him, and I can tell he’s surprised by the way his brow knit together.

“Why?”

“Once you find peace, you can’t stand the chaos anymore.”

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