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There was nothing, just the letter, the one that came with it, a page filled with his beautiful words. Nothing until I ripped the envelope open and a small card fell out.
A somber black card with white ink, classy and beautiful in a way, letting me know the funeral had happened on June 6th. Just two days ago. I’d missed it. He was gone. He was fucking gone. It must’ve happened so soon after the gallery opening.
I started screaming. I started cursing. I ran around the room, I broke a vase, I smashed a glass against the tiles. I was so angry. So very angry, so badly hurt.
I didn’t take my jacket, just slammed the front door shut and ran into the street.
A car honked at me when I ran in front of it, and the driver cursed out loud at me, screaming his head off, but the only thing I could do was run, run, run away.Forty-TwoFelixThe news reached me that day at work. He moved in the same circles my father did, and he was the one to tell me about King passing away. I was sitting in my office, just looking at some footage and trying to determine if someone really was stealing the silverware, when he came up to me.
“I missed a funeral a few days ago,” he muttered to himself as he went through some mail. “Dammit, should’ve gone to that one, too. Can you check my schedule, son? Is that meeting with the Robinsons still on tomorrow? I’d like to pay my respects, take some flowers to the grave.”
I nodded and checked his itinerary, and my father left the card on my desk when I confirmed he was free the next afternoon.
It wasn’t until later that I finally checked it, the black and white catching my eye.
I knew once I saw his initials engraved at the top of the card, I knew he was gone.
And I thought of Sapphire right away. I knew I needed to leave, and I knew if she’d found out, she wouldn’t be home either.
I called Maria, who was sobbing profusely and I could barely make out her words. She finally told me she knew, and she suspected Sapph did as well, since she just got a letter about the will.
I knew she’d be at his old apartment, and it was the first place I raced to.
The doorman wasn’t hostile this time around. Even he looked like he knew exactly what had happened, and he gave me a solemn nod as I took the elevator up to the penthouse suite.
She was sitting in a little heap at the door, crying so hard her eyes looked black and blue, not even red anymore. Her makeup was smeared, her pretty dress spotted with tears.
I sat down next to her, I didn’t dare touch her. She just sobbed, sitting on the floor in front of his front door. She sobbed for what felt like hours, and I tried to ignore the tears welling in my own eyes.
Finally, she leaned against me, and she let me hold her.
“Help,” she whispered, and my fucking heart broke for her. “I don’t know how to make it better. I don’t know, baby.”
“I don’t know,” I said back. “I only know one way, baby.”
“What is it?” Her sweet voice was so hopeful it broke me all over again.
“Come on, let’s go home, and I’ll show you. I promise I will.” I stroked her arms.
“Just a little bit longer?” she asked through the tears, and I nodded.
“Just a little bit longer,” I agreed.We got home an hour later. She felt weak in my arms, but she wouldn’t talk about it.
“You said you knew how to make it better,” she told me, her bottom lip shaking as she looked at me, those pretty eyes so very desperate. “You said you knew how.”
“Baby,” I said softly. “I’m not sure. I can only fix it by breaking you and putting you back together, piece by piece.”
She gasped when I kissed her, submitting to my lips completely.
I ran a hand up her thigh and she mewled needily, but she shoved me away, just a little, just enough to make me know she didn’t want it.
“I don’t want to today.”
My hands trailed down her arms, but she wouldn’t look at me. She seemed so upset, so fragile, so broken. I had no fucking clue what I was supposed to do with her, so I just stroked her pretty hair off her face, and decided to give her a moment to herself. I didn’t want her to feel trapped with me, she probably needed time to think.
“Okay, baby,” I told her with a small smile, drawing my hand back. “That’s okay. Do you want to relax today?”
She nodded, but she wouldn’t quite look at me. Her fingers were knotted nervously, her skirt so short it was exposing her inner thighs. I looked at the mark on her skin and melancholy washed over me. I wanted to be inside her.
