Secrets & Submission

“The truth always is better than fiction,” Kam comments and then smiles up at the waiter to thank him. I don’t miss how the waiter gives Kam a longer glance than he gave me.

Speaking of hot men, I think as I watch the tall young man, he’s got to be no older than midtwenties. In other words, way too young for Kam. And it’s quite obvious he’s interested in Kam.

“Flirt,” I speak beneath my breath and smirk at Kam the moment the waiter has left us.

Kam has the audacity to deny it as the blush reaches his cheeks. He’s freshly shaven so it can’t hide behind stubble.

My fork spears through the ripe tomatoes and I let Kam pretend that I’ve forgotten. The bird I saw a moment ago flutters in a way that steals my gaze. He’s a vibrant blue, perched on the edge and more than likely waiting for scraps.

“So,” Kam gets my attention before asking, “is Zander your boyfriend then?” He raises a single brow in question.

With a thump in my chest, I don’t know how to answer him so I retreat to draining the rest of my tea. Twirling the straw forces the ice to clink against the glass. After an awkward moment, I ask him, “I thought we were going to discuss selling my properties … and you know? Moving on.” I hate the term. I’ll never move on. Damon says you move through it, and there’s a piece that’s always there. I prefer that.

His expression drops as he nods, his tone more serious. “It’s not the best time to sell, so we could wait, and sell when the market’s better. Or if you’d rather just be done with it, we’ll still get a good deal, just maybe not a great one. Either way, whatever you feel comfortable with, we can maneuver.”

Whatever I feel comfortable with.His words repeat in my head as the memories filter back. I can’t stop them. Just thinking of our home together, of the furniture, the majority of it his, I can barely keep myself composed when I remember how we broke in the dark gray Old English-style sofa of our first place together. So many firsts happened in that house.

“Let’s sell them.” I push the words out. “The main home and the two vacation properties down south.”

“And the belongings?” Kam’s question is gentle and I nod in response, picking up my drink to find it empty. I shake the glass, rattling the ice and with the straw I drain the tiniest bit of tea until there’s nothing left.

“And what about where you’re currently staying?” he asks cautiously. “The lodge?”

“We can keep it,” I answer him. “We were barely there together.” Fuck. It’s not like ripping off a Band-Aid at all. Not when the wound is still raw and bleeding.

“And the west wing?”

His answering question hangs in the air between us.

“What of it?” I say in a whisper. I don’t want it mentioned.

“We still have it closed off …”

When all I have is silence, he offers, “Maybe we redecorate it?”

I focus on pushing around the remainder of the food on my plate. Staring at the crumbs and remembering how that’s what hurt the most. Laying in a bed we shared, and waking up alone.

“Did Zander suggest anything else?”

“What?”

He gestures toward me, his tone relaxed and casual. As if he could disguise the fact that he’s attempting to change the subject since the current one has turned heavy. “Hair and nails. Does he want you to go to the spa too? Maybe to a lingerie boutique?”

Although his tone is humorous, my response is flat. “He wants me to create a new normal that would make me happy.” I force a smile, remembering how we went through the checklist two days ago. He sat with me while I made the necessary arrangements and Silas accompanied me to them, acting more as a chauffeur than anything else.

“A new normal?” Kam’s back straightens, his reaction not at all contained.

“We made a list,” I say after taking a deep breath in and leaning back in the chair. My appetite has vanished.

“A list of what you want your normalcy to be?” Kam questions and I nod. He nods along with me. “So what else is there, other than nails and hair?”

Chewing the inside of my cheek, I keep myself from reaching into my purse to take out the list and instead tell Kam only the ones he needs to know.

“Things like, make my bed in the morning and practice yoga before noon like I used to.” I’m quick to add, “I have daily affirmations.”

“What affirmations?” Kam asks, and judging by his expression, I know he’s still wary of Zander. I get it. I do.

“I will allow myself to feel grief and then let it go,” I tell him after inhaling slowly and Kam’s eyes widen slightly. “Damon approved it.”