My initial instinct is to start fresh and redesign everything; I used to love doing that. Donating what’s here and bringing in new pieces, playing with color and all things from the newest collections. My teeth bite down on the tip of my tongue at the thought. A moment flashes before my eyes as I stare at the thick rug, and I know then I’ll never replace a thing that graces this home.
“Is there anything you’d like before we start?” he questions me. I have to lift my chin to look up at him. I’m rather tall, all legs so I’ve been told, but this man with his broad shoulders is even taller. He resembles the other man in the courtroom, the one whose dark gaze pinned me more than once. A chill runs down my spine at the thought, although the rest of me seems to heat with anxiousness.
“I think I’m fine for now,” I offer with a tight smile I’m all too aware doesn’t reach my eyes.
Silently, Cade nods.
One breath in, and he offers to take my coat for me. One breath out and he leaves my side. It feels like all the warmth in the room leaves with him although he’s only a few short feet away.
The din of chatter drifts toward us and muddled within is the familiar, confident pitch of my manager. Giving orders as he always does.
“Shall we?” Cade asks and again, I question everyone’s decision. His. Kam’s. Even the judge.
I’m not certain he knows what he’s getting into, especially after the court hearing. I don’t know what he knows about me or what research he’s done. I imagine all he’s been presented with is the file Kam gave the Rockford Center. Which is as barren as this empty foyer.
Lord knows there’s plenty on the internet for him to find, but none of it is what truly matters.
My heels click as he leads me through my own home to the sitting room across from the open kitchen. I wonder if he judges me as I judge him. I wonder what he thinks, the wheels turning as he interacts with me. Am I what he expected? I used to be able to tell from the first time I met someone what they knew about me. The men were the easiest.
A smirk was almost a given if he’d happened to stumble upon some of my younger days online. The corners of my lips lift slightly at the knowledge.
I know there are still a few … risqué videos … still lingering on the web. It’s possible he’s watched those, but if he has, he doesn’t let on. Perhaps, though, what’s happened most recently far outweighs the past.
I have to consciously stop my racing thoughts before the spiral begins and it’s then that I notice how the chatter has stopped.
“Ella.” Kam’s voice is the first I hear as I take in the group of men. He’s already taken off his suit jacket. It’s hanging over the back of a mahogany stool with navy blue tufted upholstery at the kitchen island. The kitchen is a stark white with the same porcelain tiles as the foyer to my right, but the dark navy of the stools is echoed to the left, covering the walls including the wainscoting and coffered ceiling.
“Finally.” He announces the word with his hands up, arms outstretched. His charming smile greets me just before he embraces me. Kamden’s never been a large man and he’s always had a smaller frame, but like me, it appears he’s lost weight. His jawline shows it the most.
I vaguely wonder how else he’s been affected. I know his boyfriend left him when I was first committed. He wasn’t well then either, but in the months I’ve been away, I haven’t heard from him apart from his plans to get me home.
In my heels, I’m eye level with him.
“Finally,” I repeat, echoing his upbeat and relieved tone. It does wonders for my mood. To see him, to hold his hands and know I’m safe. To feel truly protected. This man would move mountains for me. He has before.
“How are you feeling?” Before I can answer, he lifts a brow and comments as he moves to the sitting room with me trailing behind him, “It was fucking freezing when I first got here. How the hell do we turn this fireplace on?” If his tone is anything to go by, today is any other day and the last year didn’t happen.
Oh, how I wish. All the wishes don’t add up to anything I can hold on to, though.
The silence is uncomfortable as all the men in the room watch me, all six of them, and the only thing that can be heard are my heels muted by the rug as I slip across the room to flick the switch to the gas fireplace. It ticks steadily until it lights, and then blue flames rage from the crystals.