"Kira," I said, my voice raw, my gut churning. I now fully understood why she'd been so insecure about sex. It wasn't just about her father and his dismissal of Rosa Maria. It was even more personal—she’d basically been told her passion in bed was somehow inappropriate and disgusting. And she'd believed it. And who could blame her? It'd been her first experience. She'd only ever been with one man.
Kira looked off into the distance again. "When my father got home and learned what happened," her face screwed up as if she was going to cry again, but she regrouped with a deep breath, "he told me I'd ruined everything. And then he went into recovery mode: contacting the hotel staff, putting out the story that I'd gotten into trouble with drugs and went wild in case anyone else had seen me leaving the room, or in case other staff talked about the cleanup. Of course, he wouldn't hear of me calling the engagement off, but I was very final about that."
"He threw you under the bus."
She nodded. "Yes. Cooper's campaign and status was more important than his own daughter. He suggested a trip to Europe to make it look as if I was in a recovery program and then upon my return, we could turn the story in our favor—making me look like a success. Can you see the headlines now? 'Heiress turns to drugs, ruins life, but thanks to the love and devotion of selfless fiancé, turns life around.' What a perfect love story. Of course, Cooper would look even more like a hero. His current campaign, and all future campaigns, would be even more successful with a story like that attached to him. And me, I'd be the fall girl, but all for a good cause."
"Jesus." I stared in disbelief.
She sighed. "Well, as you can imagine, I wasn't going to go along with my father's plan to send me to Europe on a shopping expedition, but I did need to go away. Even returning to college here in California seemed too close. I wanted an ocean between us—very literally. I was devastated and needed to heal both physically and emotionally. I needed time to come up with a life plan. I remembered Khotso's invitation to help with his hospital—an invitation I hadn't been able to accept originally—and cut myself off from my father and Cooper. I took an extra day to have a full STD checkup, and then flew to Africa using the very last of the money I had in my bank account." She blushed slightly after the remark about a checkup, and then her expression turned thoughtful. "When I got there, I felt so empty, so grief-stricken. But see," her eyes suddenly brightened, and I sucked in a breath to see her shining light again, "I worked with these women who had lost so much—they were rejected by their villages and their families because of the stigma of something they had no control over. Many of them had lost their babies. They were sick and traumatized. They had lost so much more than me. And I thought to myself, if I'm going to encourage them to be strong, to find power beyond their own circumstances, then I have to be able to do the same for myself. People suffer all over the world, every day. But people triumph all over the world every day, too. And I thought if these women are going to trust me to help them heal and triumph, I have to be able to rise above, as well. And I did."
"You make it sound easy." My voice held a scratchy note. How was she so strong?
She shook her head. "It's not easy. It takes work, and faith, and a whole heart full of hope. It takes letting the pain in, too. Because the problem is, you can't shut off one emotion without shutting off all your emotions. You have to feel the pain if you're going to feel the joy. It's just the way it works. So no, it's not easy, but it's possible. And now, all I want is for my father to leave me in peace, to allow me to figure out on my own what I'm going to do with the rest of my life."
I understood now. I understood why she'd been willing to go to drastic measures to gain some freedom. I understood why she'd been willing to marry a stranger rather than ask her father for a single dime of his money—money that surely had any number of soul-stripping strings attached. She had chosen to split the money fifty-fifty, as if it was the only bargaining tool she felt she was worth. She had chosen me, and I suddenly felt gratitude that far outweighed the financial gain.
"And what have you come up with so far?" I asked. What are your dreams, sweet Kira?
"I might go back to college. I might become a pirate and sail the seven seas. The point is I have choices. Because of my gram, and because of you, I can do anything." Our gazes locked and I had the very brief, but sharp urge to fall to my knees and swear my everlasting servitude to her. Relax, Gray.
"You'd make a really hot pirate," I finally said.
She laughed right as a loud knock sounded at the front door and we both startled slightly. "Room service," I said, smiling.
There was no table in the suite, so I set up the food on the coffee table in the spacious living room, and we both sat down to eat. The mood seemed to have lightened despite the very heavy topics we'd discussed, and despite the fact that Kira had just shared her very personal, painful story. Maybe that's what she'd needed, though. I imagined she hadn't spoken of it much, if at all, given she’d left immediately after it happened, and had only returned recently.
"You know," I said through a bite of stroganoff that wasn't nearly as good as Charlotte's, "I owe you an apology. I misjudged you from the moment I met you. I had you completely wrong."
Kira shrugged. "I'm used to it. And I did my own share of misjudging, dragon." She winked and I grinned.