My Beloved: A Thin Love Novella(14)
“Mr. Hale, the wedding…”
“Is not your concern.” He took a breath through his nose, trying to get his heartbeat to slow. “You’re fired.”
Kona ignored the calls after him, his son shouting his name, Mark and Leann, his aunties, asking what had happened. He only wanted one thing and she had just stormed through the exit without a backward glance.
Keira loved the sound of the ocean rushing against the beach. It felt like music to her. That low, steady rush of the water wetting the white sand went through her body, straight into her mind. She closed her eyes, leaning against the railing of the balcony in her room, trying to let the music of the waves take her from her thoughts. It was the sound she wanted in that moment—the first time since they’d landed on the island that she had even a moment to herself. All her other time was spent on the wedding, the family, Kona being the center of attention; Kona lapping it up like he needed it to survive.
Like she was just an afterthought not worthy of his time.
“God. I sound like a whiny brat.”
Forehead down in her hands, Keira tried to focus on that sweet sound below her, the cool whisper of wind that licked her skin and dotted the air with salt water.
It wasn’t working. She kept seeing Kona in the distance, miles from her, moving further and further away. In her mind, when she imagined this, Kona was surrounded by patting hands, clinging to him, touching him and his smile only grew the more he was touched, the further he drifted from her.
She knew she was being stupid. After all, this had been her plan from the beginning. She’d let Kona do what he wanted. She wasn’t his mother and didn’t want to be one of those wives who led their husbands around by the balls. He had a life before and after her. Same as Keira. She wouldn’t ask him to give that up just as she wouldn’t want him asking her to leave behind her studio, her work in Nashville, Bobby—everything that was important to her just to be with him.
And yet…
That vision was becoming closer to reality than what was comfortable for Keira. Of course she was still a bit annoyed that he’d left her hanging all day, to make pointless small talk with Leann and Mark while Kona was paraded around Kahuku like some conquering hero returning to collect his hard-won bounty. He loved the attention. She knew that. She remembered that clearly from their CPU days. Even if Kona insisted she be there to kiss him good luck as he walked onto the field or sit closest to the sidelines so he could turn around and wink at her during a game, even with all that, most game days Kona was more excited for the roar of the crowd and the adrenaline that filled him when he heard that sound.
Keira had seen it in the rare occasions Ransom had flipped on the television to a game Kona was playing in; how the camera would catch Kona ripping off his helmet after a particularly impressive tackle to jump into the stands or swing his arms out, head back loving the rush of voices falling over him as he pumped up the crowd.
Kona couldn’t help it. It was in his nature to thrive on that attention. And he wasn’t the only one. It was likely the reason Ransom so loved playing music for his friends or performing well on the field. He’d inherited that love of being beloved, of being wanted.
Keira could wait in the background for both of them while they were on center stage. She told herself she would willingly sit on the sidelines just so they could be happy, feel accomplished. But deep down, she recognized the lie. She would not—could not—sacrifice who she’d grown to be or what she had worked so hard to accomplish just to be the wife of a celebrity who didn’t have time for her.
She would never be that woman.
Seeing Nya touch Kona, seeing the fear in his expression when he saw her watching them, really didn’t bother Keira. She knew better than to believe he’d touch anyone else, especially the day before their wedding. He might be an attention whore, but he was her attention whore. She trusted him. He was faithful. But the sight of them together had brought back the memories she’d tried to bury, that constant, irrational fear that she was not good enough for him, that he needed more than she could give him.
“For the love of God, stop it,” she told herself, resting her hands on the railing, then taking in a long breath to prepare herself when the lock on her door beeped as it opened.
Kona’s soft footfalls were quick, racing through the room, likely looking for her, but they fell silent as she spotted his shadow behind her in the doorway.
“This seems familiar.” His voice was cautious, low, and Keira nodded, attention still out on the ocean, knowing Kona was thinking of the night he threw Ransom that huge sixteenth birthday party. Their song, the song that played the first night Kona took her, had sent her retreating to the balcony with Kona following after her.
It had been the first time she’d tasted him in sixteen years.
It had been the night their always started again.
“Sorry, I don’t have a blunt.” She didn’t mean for her voice to sound so cold, so defeated, but the tone had Kona moving, coming right behind her to rest his chin on the top of her head.
That long held fear, irritation, told Keira to turn away from him, to step out of his reach. But Kona was her addiction. He always would be. She squashed that persistent, grating voice that told her Kona didn’t really love her and turned around, back against the railing, fingers behind her on the metal slats as she moved her gaze up his body.