Chapter 78 Nikki

My hand reaches out and knocks gently on the door that is partially ajar. I hear movement on the other side of the door and brace myself when I hear his deep voice call out.
“Nikki, perhaps this isn’t the right time.” I shut my eyes, knowing he is right, but I also know I cannot hold in this secret anymore. I have ruined this man’s life and he doesn’t even know the true reason of my being here. I know Rand didn’t mean for me to come clean, but his words resonated with me. I did love Bronson, and that meant, I had to protect him, even if it is from myself.
Opening the door, I walk inside stopping when I spot Bronson on the bed of his bedroom. His shirt is off, and he is starring down at what looks like a small photo. I step closer and watch his body tense, his tone muscles grow stronger as I near him.
“Bronson, we need to talk. It’s important.”
“I don’t want you to blame yourself.” He states then places the photo back into the drawer of the nightstand beside his bed. I couldn’t make it out but I’m fairly certain I saw Clara.
“That’s a little hard to do right about now.”
“Nikki, if you didn’t open my eyes to her, I would have seen it shortly after I married her. I knew what she was, I knew what I was to her. Trust me, you hold no part in our separation.”
“Then why do I feel this way?” I shrug and he finally looks up so that I can see his face. His eyes are tired, rimmed red and his jaw is tight. I hate seeing him this way. I’ve always wanted more for him, telling him often enough that he doesn’t have to always carry the mask he was given by his grandfather, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy watching him suffer as he removes it.
“Because you are a good person.”
“No, Bronson, I’m not. I need to talk to you. It’s about the reason of my being here.”
His face looks away then reaches out, opening the drawer once again and pulling out the picture I saw him with not seconds before. I move in closer and sit beside him on the bed. I can smell the shower he has just taken on him, can smell the masculine scent, causing me to shiver.
Bronson hands me the photo and with shaky hands I stare into it as if seeing my own past within his.
“Clara was diagnosed when she was thirteen. It was the hardest thing I ever had to witness. She didn’t scream or cry, didn’t shout or ask God why. She just took it like a champ.” I listen carefully knowing he doesn’t just share this with anyone. This isn’t why I came in here but even I know its rare that he speaks about his family. “She beat it, she beat her caner, but we later found out, it wasn’t quite done with her.”
“She got it again?”
“Two years later.” He turns, and I stare harder into the picture. I can make out not only Clara, but Bronson and a child that looks to be his older brother. They are surrounding a Christmas tree, holding onto each other while Clara stands in the middle with a red bandana on her head. “My family was devastated.”
“I’m so sorry Bronson.”
“Clara felt it that time. She hated what it was doing to our parents, so she held a lot of it inside. I can still remember going to visit her one day after school at the hospital, and she was alone and crying. She had finally let it all out, and she was alone. I held her tightly, told her to let it out to me. She did, and we remained close through her second battle.”
“So why leave?” He blows out a deep breath then reaches out and takes the photo from my hands, placing it neatly back into the nightstand.
“I wanted what my grandfather was offering, and as horrible as that makes me sound, I liked the power, enjoyed the wealth behind it all. I had no idea I had turned into something far worse than him until today. To see my employees fear me, to see their faces whenever I spoke, I didn’t want that anymore.”
“And Cassandra?”
“She is what my grandfather would have wanted for me. I knew it wasn’t going to last and I don’t know why I hung onto something so trivial.”
“Where is your grandfather now?”
“Retired. After he agave me the business, he retired and moved out of the country. Never once spoke to his children or grandchildren again. That’s how he was.”
“You should speak to Clara again Bronson.”
“She hates me.”
“No, she doesn’t. Trust me, the love a sister feels for little brother, is something that can never be changed.” He studies me for a moment, making me shift in my seat, then nods his head. “So, what now?”
“Now, I start over. I enjoy my life, enjoy my work and show everyone everyday how much I appreciate them. I want to be someone Clara could be proud of.”
“Don’t be going all soft on me Fortworth. Wouldn’t want to scar that pretty mogul mask that you’ve perfected.” I shove him with my shoulder and smile when I hear the chuckle I have come to adore.
“There is one more thing I want, even if I don’t necessarily deserve it.”
“And what’s that?”
His deep blue eyes pierce mine as his face comes closer and his lips latch onto mine. I kiss him back, the tension in the room intensifies as our bodies cling to one another. I feel him everywhere, his hands on my face, my neck, my back. My hands gripping his neck pulling him further and further into me.
I didn’t come up here for this, didn’t want there to be something between us, but as my clothing leaves my body, as his pants come off, all of my thinking goes down the drain. I want him, here and now, on top of my body, his firm muscles pressing me down. Bronson takes his time with me at first, I can tell every fiber of him is holding back and the moment I whisper in his ear to let go, to have me the way he has always envisioned, he finally lets loose and we flow into bliss together.
Laying on his bed, both of us intwined with the other, I lay my head on his chest as his hands wave up and down my naked back. I’ve never done this before, had sex and then cuddled. It’s always been a transaction for me, something without feeling and emotion. But as Bronson’s breathing evens out and I look up to find him fast asleep, I vow now, that I won’t leave him.
Not now. Not ever.