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“I didn’t mean to pry.”
“He was always remorseful, constantly promising he would get clean, but the drugs held a stronger grip on him than anything he ever felt for us. Eventually mum packed up his shit and threw him out. She still loved him, probably always will, but she couldn’t let him destroy us.”
I can see the anguish etched on Kaan’s face, tears welling up in his eyes. “He called me, you know? His words were slurred, and he was rambling about all the mistakes he had made with his life. He said he was sorry for what he had done and that he loved us. Then the phone went dead.”
I reach out, rubbing his arm gently, my own tears threatening to spill. “Oh, Kaan.”
“I raced over to his place and found him on the floor.” His Adam’s apple bobbing with a hard swallow. “Let me tell you, you don’t get over something like that. Maybe it would have been different if it had been a disease or if he had died in that fucking accident, but he chose to do drugs. He made that choice. I spent years wondering if there was something I could have done to save him, to help him, but the truth is, he didn’t want to be saved. He just wanted more.”
“I’m so sorry. I really am.”
“Finding Dad like that was devastating. And I really do think that that has influenced every single decision that I’ve made. It left me with this voice, this lingering question of why we weren’t enough for him, why he didn’t love us enough to fight harder and stay?” The pain etches deeper lines across his beautiful face. “It hurts. It never stops hurting. He left us all with a gaping hole in our hearts. I hate him for that.”
I rest my hand on his, gently intertwining our fingers, offering a comforting touch as he continues.
“And yes, I party too hard. I overreact to things, and I drown myself in alcohol to control the pain.” Kaan’s words resonate through the air, piercing with their raw honestly. “But I’m not an alcoholic and I’m not my father.”
My heart aches for Kaan as I listen to his painful truth, the weight he carries and the anguish he battles on a daily basis.
“I can’t understand how it feels to lose your dad like that. I can’t even imagine the pain. But here’s the thing: you are not, and never will be, your father. It seems that you’ve allowed the pain of losing him to control your life. You say you drown your pain in alcohol, but let me ask you something: when you’re at the bottom of a bottle, is that when you make good decisions?”
Before Kaan can respond, I lean in and press my lips gently against his. As I pull back, I look into his eyes, “No. You make bad decisions, but those bad decisions, Kaan, can be the greatest of all teachers. We learn and grow from our mistakes. My mistakes are chronicled for the world to see on my blog while yours are headlines on Page Six. But you know what? When it was time for me to make better decisions, I took a step back and set out to learn to love myself. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what you need as well. Because when you start to love yourself, things have a way of getting better.”
I reach out and gently brush a strand of hair away from his face. “You deserve love, understanding and forgiveness. It’s time to let go of the guilt, the pain, and the self-destructive patterns.”
A flicker of hope shines in Kaan’s eyes, momentarily breaking through the weight of his past. But as quickly as it appears, he snorts and shrugs dismissively. “I guess I have my own baggage to deal with.”
I can’t help try to inject a light heartedness into the moment. “Hey I’ve got room in my baggage for your troubles too. We’ll definitely be travelling in style.”
“Not many people know the whole story, the real story.”
I understand the importance of being a source of support to him. “I’ll take it to my grave.”
Kaan’s face lights up with a flicker of appreciation. “I think you’re one of the few people in my life that I can trust completely, Nutmeg.”
I wrap my arms around him, holding him tightly. “It was a real mistake on our part to link you with Blair.”
“You weren’t to know.” He shrugs dismissively. “And I really wanted to try and help her, but she was never going to listen to me. I mean, why should she when I’m just as fucked up as she is?”
I thread my arms around him, and he squeezes me close. We sit there holding each other for a few long minutes. “Would you like me to stay here tonight?”
“Yes.”
As soon as the word escapes Kaan’s lips, there is a shift in the atmosphere. The unspoken tension between us ignites, and in that instant, he leans in and captures my lips. Our kiss is slow, sensual and tender. He releases me from his embrace, his hands sliding slowly down my waist and onto my hips. His fingertips lightly graze the inside of my thigh and I open willingly, wanting him to take what he needs.
Kaan lets out a low moan and drags me from the couch beside him, and sets me down on the coffee table. My dress pulls up around my thighs. We can both smell the scent of my arousal. It’s a musky perfume that tells him everything he needs to know. “I swear to God I’ve never wanted a woman so much.”
He pulls my panties down, and he tosses them aside, before kneeling down on the floor. My legs are over his head, my thighs splayed wide, and his mouth takes possession of me, licking and sucking. No man has ever brought me so close so quickly, but I need more. I need him.
You’re only going to get hurt.
“Fuck me, Pretty Boy.”
Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
He doesn’t need to be asked twice. He stands, releases himself from his pants, sits back on the couch and pulls me on top of him. He positions me above him and I sink down onto his rock-hard cock. I savour the fullness, gently circling my hips until the urge to ride him overwhelms me. His hips thrust upward, meeting mine, every muscle straining as I arch my back, forcing him deeper inside. His hands find my breasts, my nipples trapped between his fingers. I bite down on my bottom lip as he twists them, the delicious pain sparking that familiar tingle that creeps across my skin. I know I’m close… so close…
“Babe? I’m back!”
