Page 44 of Starting Over with Her Billionaire Boss

They sat in silence for a moment, the pops from the fire and distant chirping of crickets the only noise between them. Heinhaled deeply, the smoky scent of burning wood mingling with the sweet perfume from Kinsley. He reached his arm around her, pulling her closer into him by her waist. Kinsley leaned in.

Though the strength in his voice faltered, Daegan continued, “I felt a sense of grief when the hospital notified me, but then I felt a whole different level of grief when I realized neither of them were ever coming back. I feel so selfish, Kinsley. You should mourn the loss of a family member…but all I could do was feel even more rage and frustration, knowing that I couldn’t even have the opportunity to tell either of them off. I could never explain to them what they put myself, Jackie, and Jackie and Ken’s kids through. I almost felt like I didn’t even have the right to be mad anymore. But that anger didn’t go away. It only got worse.”

“Mourning is hard,” she said, her cool blue eyes looking up at him reassuringly as she handed the papers back. “Trust me—I know it is.”

He planted a soft kiss on her forehead. “I don’t even feel like I mourned themrightif there is such a thing. The embarrassment I felt,” he paused, his voice coming back stronger, “I don’t know if I can put it into words. Do you know how awkward it was to be at their funerals? People must have looked at me and thought ‘That’s the man Megan was engaged to before she left to go be withhis brother.’ I don’t even know how Ishouldfeel.” He folded the papers, putting them back in the envelope alongside Megan’s letter.

Kinsley squeezed his hand, her voice soft but firm. “You were hurt deeply, Daegan, and it’s okay to feel angry. But you also deserve to let go of it—to give yourself the chance to be happy again. I know it’s not easy, but I believe you can find peace. You have the right to feel how you do.”

“But do I?” Daegan’s fingers drummed a restless rhythm on her hip, his eyes clouded with a mix of anger and sorrow. “Iguess what really hurts the most is knowing there will never be any sense of closure, no answers to my questions, no explanation for why either of them sought the other one out. They quite literally took it to their grave.”

“It’s clear that your brother was an awful relative and that your ex-fiancée was content with being a cheater. You dodged a bullet.” Daegan nodded his head in agreement as Kinsley continued, “You can still experience grief—trust me, it won’t go away—but don’t feel like you missed out on anything. It is horrible that two people lost their lives, but you need to separate your grief over their deaths from the grief that two people you cared for were not how they seemed.”

“When did you become my therapist?” Daegan joked, a smile tugging at his cheeks.

Kinsley pointed to the envelope. “Five minutes ago when you pulled out a three-year-old letter and news article about your deceased ex and your brother.” A lump formed in Daegan’s throat as Kinsley’s voice grew as fiery as the pit in front of them. “I’m assuming you threw yourself into your work as a distraction after she left you…and then threw yourself in evendeeperwhen they passed. It’s been three years, and you still come home from work after being at the office for eight to twelve hours, sit in your chair in your study, get out these papers, look through them, relive dozens of horrible emotions, and then go to bed angry and hurt.Thenyou wake up the next morning and do itall over again,hoping that one day these pieces of paper will have no effect on you anymore. But distractions don’t take away the pain, Daegan—they just make us numb to it while it bubbles under the surface, waiting for its time.”

“That’s why I need to let it go—to heal, to move on.” The envelope felt like an impossible weight in his hands.

“If that’s what you need to do, do it. I’m right here. I can help you if you let me.” Kinsley turned to him, placing a hand on his chest.

He pulled his hand away from her waist. As his chest tightened, he knew what he had to do. There was no getting out of it this time—no drawer to put it back in.

“Lick it,” Daegan said, his voice teasing as he issued the challenge.

She arched an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“The envelope. Lick it.”

Kinsley sat up stiffly. “Why don’t you lick it? Your emotional baggage—your saliva.” She smirked.

“I hate the taste of that crap.” He shuddered. It took him back to being a child, licking dozens of envelopes for family Christmas cards. “You’re my assistant. It’s in the job description.” Daegan grinned, leaning closer.

With a shocked gasp, she said, “Is that why you make me lick all those envelopes? You think I’m good at licking things!” Her smirk was pure mischief.

His grin widened. “I’m open to finding out.” Daegan tilted his head as he took her in. The warmth in her eyes, the softness of her lips that he longed to kiss again. His heart pounded, not from grief. This was something else, something that felt hopeful and terrifying all at once. He reached for her chin, his thumb caressing her lips, and he could see the way her breath caught in her chest. It felt like a leap into the unknown, but it also felt like freedom.

As their lips met, that addictive spark surged through him again. Their lips parted as the warmth of her breath mingled with his. Kinsley’s eyes fluttered open, but there was no awkwardness, no need for words. Between them had settled a quiet understanding, a silent promise that this was only the beginning.

“Nice try, but you lick it,” she whispered. “The envelope, I mean. You know that saying—if you lick it, it’s yours. And that’s yours.”

“Oh, is that how it works?” he laughed, brushing his thumb over her cheek.

Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll lick it, but don’t say I never did anything for you.” She exaggerated the gesture as she did so, handing it back with a flourish. Daegan ignored the way his heart was beating faster. “You’re welcome—you’re in debt to me forever.”

He smiled. That deal didn’t seem so bad.

“Now let it go,” she urged, her voice a soothing whisper in the night.

Daegan stared at the envelope in his hand, studied its worn edges and faded creases. It wasn’t just paper—it was everything he had lost. Trust. Security. A future he’d thought was certain. He had clung to it to tether himself to a truth he still couldn’t fully comprehend.

But then there was Kinsley, sitting beside him, her presence as steady and comforting as the fire before them. For the first time, the idea of letting go didn’t feel like freefalling into darkness—it felt like stepping into the light.

Daegan stood up and approached the fire, the envelope a heavy burden in his trembling hands. But as he drew nearer, he hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. Letting go meant stepping into the unknown, leaving behind the familiar comfort of his grief. What if it only led him somewhere worse?

Taking a deep breath, Daegan held the envelope over the flames until it caught. Fire licked at the paper, and he released his grip, watching as the flames erupted dangerously around it. The heat of it forced Daegan to take a step back. Those words that had haunted him for so long were quickly turning to ash,until the fire died back down to a steady flicker as if it had never been.

A profound sense of liberation washed over him. The past, with all its sorrow and anger, was being scattered in the wind.

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