His stern features, the ones that spoke to the affluent businessman he was, relaxed into an easy smile. “It’s a unique situation, Trent. I don’t think anyone is prepared for something like this.”
“It feels like a goddamn nightmare some sick wiseass has on a loop,” I grunted. “Shit like this is supposed to happen in movies not fucking real life. I keep wanting someone to remind me it’s not real, to believe she hasn’t forgotten me.” I cupped the back of my neck, massaging lightly to remove the tension tightening the tendons there.
Drake sighed and rubbed his jaw. “It’s a normal reaction. Chances are it’s going to take a lot more out of you until you know the truth.”
I understood what he was saying, and it made sense, but it still didn’t calm my racing heart. “How the fuck do I fix this?”
“It’s not up to you to fix anything. Let nature run its course. I’ve always told you everything happens for a reason, right?” he asked. I nodded, remembering the conversations we’d have every time I found myself stuck between decisions. Drake Princeton might be a workaholic, but he always had time for his family. “Trent, if fate intended a quick fix for the two of you then maybe you would’ve gone to that restaurant sooner, like two and a half years ago, when Rayden first suggested it. You weren’t ready then. Maybe the two of you are both ready now to face the future intended for you.”
I hoped like hell that was indeed the case. “I keep asking myself now that she’s seen me, what if I didn’t go to her—if I didn’t touch her and whisper in her ear that I’d keep her safe. She might fade further away, forever, never believing I was here for her.” My eyes watered. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I leaned back in my chair to stem the flow before it made an appearance.
“I understand your frustrations, but I’m inclined to agree with Zayne.” Drake tossed back his drink and toyed with his glass. “What if you tell her the truth and it has the opposite effect? Seven years is a long time to go without hope even if almost half of them were spent in a coma. Would you be able to handle her pulling away from you?”
Dragging a hand down my face, I sat back in my seat. “I have to make sure that never happens.” Waving to the waiter for a refill, I continued, “I don’t know if I trust her husband.”
“Why?”
“I can’t answer that. I just get this feeling about him.”
Drake laughed. “Considering the guy is willing to give you a little room to explore her feelings, I wouldn’t be surprised if you thought any less of him.” I frowned and he added, “You have every right to be cautious, but he’s her husband. I don’t think any man would be prepared for what you’ve just unleashed on him. Ask yourself if you’d be able to do what he’s offered you.” He arched a brow, and I couldn’t give him an answer. “If it were me, I’d probably show you the door.”
I grinned. “I guess you’re right. But—”
“No buts, Trent. Suck it up and get your shit together. Love triangles are all kinds of fucked up. Ask me, I know firsthand. I ripped my son’s heart to shreds and it took everything from me, let alone what it did to Sianna. If this guy’s giving you a hand, don’t ask for the whole fucking arm. Take it, until you know better.”
Picking up the drink, the waiter set down in front of me, I held the glass out. “Well, here’s to however long it takes to finding out the truth.” Drake clinked his glass against mine before we drank. “I’ve looked at this in every possible angle of how and when she was taken and came up blank.”
“Before she passed, was Krisha having any problems, minus the pregnancy complications of course?” he asked, his expression thoughtful. I shook my head. “It’s a pity her father’s in no state to help.”
Numb, I blew out a frustrated breath. A week after her death, Krisha’s father was an innocent victim in a drive-by shootout according to the police report. The bullet to his brain left him with permanent paralysis. Except for a healthy heartbeat and eyes that stared at nothing, there’d been no other sign to show he understood people around him.
“You’ll have to mentally prepare yourself for the days ahead, Trent.” He drew my attention. “You’re going to need patience, lots of it, and time.”
“I guess,” I muttered, shoving a hand through my hair. “I’m scared she might never remember me, that her memory might never return.”
Drake studied me for a moment then shook his head. “Eight years ago, you were scared to open a restaurant because you didn’t think you had it in you. After a little push, you did. Today you’re a Michelin five-star restauranteur with franchises in every continent. What did I tell you then?”
“Believe in myself and take it one day at a time. I guess sometimes the unrealismore powerful than the real.” I sighed, quoting novelist Chuck Palahniuk.
“Exactly. And that’s what you have to do now, take it one day at a time and believe in yourself. I’d caution you, though.” I frowned and Drake studied me for a moment, his expression guarded. “The question you should be asking yourself is how far you are willing to go to prove to her that she’s yours. Zayne’s already proven his love for her just by allowing you to enter her life. What sacrifices are you willing to make? What would you do? What would it take?”
And for the first time since leaving Zayne’s club, blatant reality hit me in the stomach. Just because I was her husband, didn’t make her mine. I needed to throw a lot more into this. Everything from a smile to the damn kitchen sink. If all else failed, then the last resort would be to lay on the charm and seduce the fuck out of her. Although the thought crossed my mind, something told me Rika was different. She was no longer the sweet, submissive woman I’d married, she’d probably make me work for it. Good thing I was up for the challenge.
“I can’t answer those questions right now.”
Drake smiled, toasting me. “What’s meant to be, will happen.”
I returned the gesture. “Speaking of meant-to-be, how are you doing?” While my drama had just begun, Drake had recently faced his fair share. “How’s Sianna?” I asked, referring to my ex-manageress and his wife of one month.
“She keeps me on my toes.” He smiled and I chuckled. While I didn’t doubt his stamina, having a wife almost twenty years his junior, probably brought its own set of challenges to the bedroom. “Get your mind out of the gutter, boy,” Drake scolded as if reading my mind. “Trust me, the bedroom’s not a challenge.” He chuckled. “I’m afraid my stomach has become her favorite pastime.” At my frown, he chuckled. “She’s enrolled at a Culinary Art School.”
“That’s great.” She’d always displayed an affinity for becoming a chef and I was glad to hear she was following her dream.
“I now have to try all these crazy dishes she comes up with.”
We both laughed.
