Page 59

Atlas

As soon as our flight landed in Florida, I knew what I had to do. I’d been thinking about it for days. This entire mess started because, instead of doing what I wanted, I did what I was told.

I should have dated and married Kairi. I should have kicked down her door that night she turned me away—or better yet, I should’ve told her how I felt in college. That was when my world tilted.

I had been too fucking nice about this entire situation. I let too much slide, thinking I could shield Kairi and my son without getting my hands dirty. That was a mistake.

No more fucking around.

No more asking nicely.

This ended now.

Kairi’s father was waiting for us just outside baggage claim, arms crossed, looking like he was ready to fight me. He was not happy with me at all. This wasn’t the impression I wanted to make on a man who barely knew me—only knew I’d failed his daughter and forced her to lie and survive me.

Kairi shot me a look as we approached him.

“Why is my daddy here?” she asked, dragging her suitcase behind her.

I kissed her forehead, then Dion, tightening my grip on her hand. “Because you’re going with him for the day. There are reporters at the house.”

“Atlas—”

“Not now, Kairi.”

She yanked her hand from mine, pissed. “What the hell do you mean, ‘not now’? Where are you going?”

I turned to her father, ignoring her question. “Keep her with you. Don’t let her do anything dumb.”

Mr. James smirked slightly, looking at his daughter. “You heard him.”

“Atlas!” Kairi snapped, reaching for me, but I stepped back, grabbed my bag, and started walking to the parking lot.

“Be good, baby. You and Dion,” I threw over my shoulder.

She cursed at me, loud as hell, but I didn’t stop.

She’d get over it.

I walked straight into my old house—now occupied by my mother—without knocking, which felt appropriate since I was the one paying for it.

My first stop was to see my mother.

She was sitting on the couch in the house I owned, with a glass of wine. She barely looked up, just smirked and crossed her legs like she hadn’t just helped orchestrate a smear campaign against my woman.

“You look upset,” she said smoothly.

I slammed the door behind me, the sound making her flinch—just a little.

“I’m not upset, Ma. I’m done.”

That got her attention. She set her glass down and arched an eyebrow. “Done with what?”

“With you. With this.” I gestured around the room, then at her. “I told you it would come to this. I’m done with funding your entire lifestyle while you sit here playing puppet master with my life.”

Her lips pursed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I smiled, but it wasn’t a nice one. “Ashlen is your pet project. You riled her up,” I said evenly. She barely looked at me, just swirled the wine in her glass.

I let out a slow breath. She wanted to play dumb? Fine. I’d play along.

My voice was calm, but the undercurrent of frustration was clear. “You fed her that victim complex, gave her the delusion that she was entitled to me, my money, my years, and now you’re acting surprised that this shit spiraled.”

She sighed dramatically, like I was being unreasonable. “I didn’t feed her anything. Ashlen has always been… passionate.”

“Right. Passionate. That’s what we’re calling obsessed, entitled, and vindictive now?”

She set her glass down and finally looked at me. “I simply don’t think you should have handled things so… carelessly. You dealt with the wrong people.”

There it was.

I sat back in the chair, flexing my jaw. “Say what you really mean, Ma.”

Her expression didn’t change, but I caught the flicker of irritation in her eyes. “And what would that be?”

“That I shouldn’t be in love with a Black woman. If Kairi were white, you’d be fine with me getting rid of Ashlen. You’re racist. And classist.”

She scoffed so hard she almost laughed. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Atlas.”

I arched a brow. “Am I?”

She waved a hand, shaking her head like she was done entertaining my nonsense. “I couldn’t care less about Kairi’s race.”

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, my voice low and sharp. “Bullshit.”

Her lips parted slightly—surprised.

“You don’t respect her because she’s Black, and because she doesn’t fit your country-club socialite bullshit.”

Her lips pursed. “You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“No,” I said flatly. “I’m saying the words you don’t have the guts to say out loud. The things you’ve been saying ‘nicely’ instead of outright for years.”

She inhaled deeply, centering herself. She did that when she was losing.

“Atlas, you know I don’t—”

“You don’t what?” I cut in. “See color? Love everyone equally? Want the best for me?” I scoffed. “You tolerated Ashlen because she was the right kind of woman. She was a red head, she seemed delicate, she was a fucking debutante.” I narrowed my eyes. “And she was someone you could control.”

Her posture straightened, her shoulders pulling back. She was gearing up for a defense, but I wasn’t finished.

She exhaled through her nose. “Atlas, do you even hear yourself? You’re throwing around ridiculous accusations because you’re angry. You’re looking for someone to blame for your own mistakes.”

I studied her for a moment, then smiled. “No, Ma. The only mistake I made was letting you have a say in my life for as long as I did. I’ve been so unhappy for so long, and I said nothing. I did what you and Father wanted.”

I stood, adjusting my watch. “Call Ashlen. Tell her to clean up this mess. And if you don’t make this right, you can find out what it feels like to fund your own fucking life.”

Her eyes flashed, her poise wavering for the first time. “You wouldn’t—”

“I would,” I said, already walking toward the door. “And I will. And don’t call me talking about your grandson this or that because you’re lonely. He won’t be associated with you. I don’t want him growing up thinking anything is wrong with him because his grandmother is a fucking relic.”

I didn’t wait for her to argue.

I walked out, letting the sound of the door slamming behind me say the rest.

I drove back to where I left Kairi.

I had been letting her walk all over me too because of past mistakes. We were moving past that.

When I got back to Kairi’s dad’s house, she was pacing the floor, clearly pissed as hell.

The second she saw me, she started. “Where the fuck did you—”

I grabbed her waist and kissed her mid-sentence, cutting her off completely. Her fists balled against my chest, but she melted into it almost immediately.

When I pulled back, the way her pupils were blown wide let me know she was aroused—and probably confused as hell.

“That’s it,” I said.

She blinked. “That’s what?”

“This conversation. This bullshit. You not listening to me, me not listening to you. That’s it. No more.”

Her lips parted, but I didn’t let her talk.

“You’re in this with me, Kairi. You don’t get to run when shit gets hard. You don’t get to shut me out. You don’t get to decide that your way is the only way. That’s not how this will work anymore.”

I grabbed her chin, tilting her face up.

“If you want me to listen to you, then you have to listen to me. You’re going to be my wife. We will find middle ground.”

She stared at me, her chest rising and falling fast, her fingers digging into my arms. “Atlas—”

“I’m going to wake up next to you every morning. Fall asleep with you every night. I’m going to raise our son with you. I’m going to spend every single fucking day proving to you that I should have chosen you first.”

Her eyes shined, her breath uneven. I could feel her resolve crumbling.

I pressed my forehead against hers, voice gravel. “Tell me okay.”

She exhaled, shaky, melting.

Then, finally, she whispered, “Okay.”

And that was it.