The Arrogant Architect (14 page)

It’s been thirty-three hours and the sickening feeling
inside of me is terrible. The agony and regret that live within are horrific as
the realization that King may never be found weighs down on me like a ton of
bricks. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to strive forward or move on or do
anything.

Sitting in the same spot on the edge of the cliff as I did
this morning, I can’t bear to move. I can’t. I have to find him, and my eyes
keep playing tricks on me, making it very, very hard. Every wave that caps
white, I think is him and I study it, my heart racing, only to be let down.

If only I could turn back time in my life, I would do it
now…without a doubt. Because I’m not sure how I’m going to live knowing the
weight of his disappearance is because of me.

“Ever,” my dad shouts, running out of the house, and I look
back at him as he is winded, but says the words I have been praying for, “They
found him.” My heart rate jumps to Mach speed, my body reawakens, and I run to
him.

“They did?” I ask so hopeful, but so scared. My face
contorts, terrified, and I have to know. “Is he…” I swallow and put my hand
over my mouth, holding back the bitterness that is resting at the back of my
throat.

“All we know is he’s alive.”

I fly past him, running down the lawn and up the stairs of
the house like a circus freak. Galinda is on the phone and I grab his keys,
knowing his car will get us to him fastest. Turning towards her, she hangs up
and I ask, “Where is he?” needing to be with him, so badly.

“St. Mary’s.” I unlock his car, we all pile in, and take
off. Pulling out of the gate, the news reporters spot us, cameras flash, and video
recorders roll. But I focus on driving as adrenaline fills me and I race to the
hospital as fast as I can.

“What happened?” I ask and my dad answers as Galinda is
quietly sniffing in the back seat.

“A fishing boat found him; he was hanging on to a piece of
drift wood.”

Checking the clock, I’m so grateful and so worried. I could
only imagine how fucking scary this has been for him.

Pulling up to the hospital, we’ve beat the news crews here,
and I park by the ER. As I run inside, I try and calm myself before speaking,
but it’s useless. “We’re here to see Kingsley Lennox,” I blurt out at the woman
behind the counter. Every keystroke she makes is agonizing as she types on her
keyboard, then asks me, “Was he recently brought in?”

“Yeah.”

“Have a seat and I’ll let you know when he can have
visitors.”

I sob, bracing my weight on the counter. “Please, can’t you
do anything now?” I beg her.

“No, ma’am, I’m sorry. Have a seat.” My dad pulls me back,
and the three of us sit down. My eyes stare at the doors leading into the ER,
and the moment someone exits, I get up, holding it open with my foot. I’m not
going to just sit here, I don’t give a shit what she says. My dad shakes his
head, and I wait to rush in and look for King, looking at either of them to do something
to distract the woman I have to walk past.

Thankfully, Galinda takes the attention of the woman at the
desk by saying, “Excuse me, ma’am.” Then I hear the two begin to engage and
take the opportunity to slip through the doors.

Straight ahead of me is a dry erase board. Scanning it, I
spot King’s name on the bottom, room eleven. Looking at the numbers
surreptitiously, I keep my eyes to myself as I swiftly make my way towards him.

Then the second I spot the room, everything inside me blurs
and I barge in. King is shivering underneath a mound of blankets. His face is
white and I gasp at the sight, so worried for what he went through, but so
grateful that he’s alive.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, no visitors yet,” a nurse says.

King lifts his head with all his strength and I ignore the
woman. The second our eyes connect, everything from our argument washes away.
He’s alive, thank God, he’s alive. Going straight towards him, I shroud my arms
around his head. We both sob uncontrollably. His hair still wet, his lips
cracked, and his face has a horrible chill to it. “Why won’t he stop shaking?”
I ask the nurse.

She’s reluctant to answer, but she can see the bond between
the two of us. “Shock, hypothermia.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice cracks and it pains me
to see him like this.   Kissing him tenderly, I tell him, “It’s okay. I’m
so sorry too.”

As I’m hugging him again, the nurse says, “I’ll be right
back. I need to check with the doctor on something.”

Both King and I ignore her. His uncontrollable shaking is
heartbreaking, and I ask him, “Are you cold?”

“I don’t know.” His teeth chatter and I need to help him, to
stop this. Climbing on top of the bed, I lie completely over him. The pressure
of my body and the blankets should help. With my head on his chest, I can hear
his muffled heart beat, and it is so calming. Closing my eyes, I thank God for
bringing him back to me.

“I love you,” I whisper, needing him to know it, to feel it,
and to be reassured that we are going to be okay.

“Love you,” he responds shakily and I leave it at that.

Observing King sleep has got to be the greatest feeling in
the entire world. He’s been out of it since he was found, but he’s alive and
that’s all that matters. The doctors said that with the approval of his
psychologist, he might be able to go home today. And even though he doesn’t
know I found out about his condition, I’m glad they won’t release him without
her approval.

Not able to leave him alone, I stroke the top of his hair and
relish in having him back. His body has finally settled, no more shaking and
chattering. My touch wakes him, and he looks over at me with his sleepy eyes.
The sun is barely up and I’ve never been happier to be awake so early in all of
my life.  “I’m sorry about the letters,” he says, his voice is trembling,
and I lift my head, covering his lips with my fingers.

“Don’t be, it’s okay. I overreacted. Please let it all go.”
We haven’t talked about much, he’s been sleeping and I’m okay with that. Coming
as close as I did to losing him puts what’s really important into perspective.
The shit we were fighting over is nothing compared to the magnitude of never
having him in my life.

“No. I want you to know, I’m sorry.” He’s hurting, that I
can see, and I want to put this all behind us.

“You were only trying to help.” Inside I’m reminded of his
disease. Had I known…I would’ve handled things, a lot of things, so
differently. He’s yet to talk to me about it, and I’m not sure how to bring it
up either…but I need to.

“You were right, I had no right to do it. I only want to
make you happy in life at all costs.”

“And I appreciate that, and you, so much, King. If I’ve
learned anything when you were missing…it’s how much I fucking love you.”

He squeezes my hand tighter and says, “God, I love you,
probably a little too much, and it makes me do stupid shit. I shouldn’t have
ever betrayed your trust. I’m sorry again.”

As hard as it is to broach, I force myself to – we have to
talk about this in order to move on. “King, Galinda told me about your
diagnosis.”

“She did?” His eyes are wide as he looks at me.

“Yes, why wouldn’t you have told me?”

“Baby, it’s not something you bring up over dinner.”

“I get that, but at that stage of our relationship, didn’t
it cross your mind to talk to me about it?”

“I’ve always felt like I had it under control.”

“But do you?” I hate to ask him, but neither of us can hide
from the fact of what he did.

“I do. I take my medicine religiously.”

“Then what made you jump into the fucking ocean and swim
away?”

He blinks a few times, thinking hard about my question, and
then says, “I can’t drink. Alcohol is my demise. One drink for me is the same
as ten for someone like you. I gave in to it after our fight. I thought the
alcohol would numb the pain of being without you, even though I knew better. It
always makes things worse every time. Then when I woke up and you were gone, I
walked outside, in a daze, spiraling further.”

“That scares me, King,” I tell him.

“It scares me too. I’ve lived like this forever, under a
dark fucking shadow, keeping myself busy with work, using the buzz of my
natural highs to do amazing things, ignoring the lurking lows, and when you
came into my life, you were a light I never experienced before, and all that
really mattered was you. And when you were gone…all the strength and control
I’ve worked years at mastering seemed to be gone.” 

His answer kills me. And what hurts even more was I had no
idea this was something that he was battling each day. I try and make sense of
it all, to process it, to understand it, to help him now. But at the end of the
day…I worry what happens the next time we have a fight. “Do you understand what
you dying would’ve done to me?”

“It would’ve crushed you; that’s why I couldn’t let go. I
held on for as long as I could…for you.”

“Baby, you have to fight and hold on and come to me, when
anything bizarre is going through your mind.”

He pulls me down to kiss him and smiles saying, “You don’t
want to know what some of the fucked up shit is that goes through my mind.”

“But I do…I always do.”

“Well, right now…my mind is screaming at me to fuck your
mouth so we don’t have to talk about this.” He tries to distract me and I
smile, loving that I can see the layers of pain peeling away and the old King
is coming back. As hard as it is to face this demon, we did it, and I’m so
grateful that everything is out in the open now. Going forward, I’m going to
make it my mission to protect him and make sure he is happy, the same way he
has done for me.

I lay my head on his stomach. He runs his fingers over my
hair and I close my eyes, so grateful that somehow and someway he has been
brought back to me.

_____

Thankfully King’s psychologist believes in him as much as I
do. They talked for almost two hours and she gave him the go ahead to be
released, contingent upon him adding Anabuce to his regimen of medications and
that he meet with her on a weekly basis. All of which I think are great things
and will only benefit him in the long term. Finally having him home and away
from the noise of the hospital is so nice.
Lying on his b
ed
as I wait for him to finish showering, I begin to think about the future and
what it looks like for us, and before I can process everything, he’s standing
in the doorway dripping wet, barely holding his towel around his waist. 

He’s got that look in his eyes and I worry it’s too soon to
mess around. But the second he drops his towel, all of those uncertainties wash
away.

Licking my lips, I need his cock, and as slow as humanly
possible, he struts towards me, his hard shaft bobbing with each step. Once he
is close enough to me, I take him all the way in my mouth, loving how he rubs
the back of my throat, gently moving in and out. “Oh fuck,” he grumbles and holds
on to my neck, his long fingers spanning up towards my ears as he guides my
head and lets me suck him, putting everything I have into it, waiting for his
cum…needing it. Then as barbarically as possible, he grunts loudly, letting go,
and I can see in his face he’s enjoying it on a new level.

Licking him more, I smirk at his hard dick, panting and so
wet. Then all of a sudden, I am lying beneath him under his control, letting
him do with me as he pleases. Urging my hips upwards, he rubs his cock against my
leg and kisses my neck. I close my eyes, enjoying this moment as he pushes my
dress up and moves my panties to the side, spreading open my pussy, teasing my
clit with his talented tongue. I arch up, pushing towards him and savor in the
attention that he’s giving to me. My body floats on a cloud of bliss. My
breathing is ragged, my insides are on fire, and my toes are already curling.
Reaching up, I stretch my body, as he suddenly pulls my orgasm right out of me,
taking it as if it was his own. I gasp for air and grip my tits, squeezing both
of them, giving over to my greatest desire.

My body is rattled, quivering violently from the torture of
his tongue, and once he pulls back, he keeps kissing my sex, it’s like he can’t
stop. Running my fingers through his hair, I pull him towards me. His wet hair
falls in his face and he climbs on top of my body. The pressure of being
beneath him is so beautiful. Reaching between us, he moves my underwear out of
the way again and doesn’t waste a second before he slams into me, the jolt of
fullness is so invigorating, but he doesn’t move. I hold on to him, waiting for
him to fuck me, but he doesn’t. He stays nestled inside me deeply.

Digging my heels into the mattress, I grip his ass and move
my hips, needing to be fucked. It’s been so long, too long. He pumps me like a
porn star, grinding our bodies together, and I let him ride me and fuck me,
moaning with each thrust.

He nibbles on my neck; my hands are all over him. When he
finally pulls back, I gaze up at him. His eyes are closed – he’s in his zone –
and I close mine too, getting lost. But my underwear bunch up and start to get
in the way. “Take them off,” I tell him.

Quickly he pulls out of me and shreds them, tearing each
side like a machine and leaves them on the bed. I blink a few times, not sure
what my panties ever did to him, and he flips me over, gripping my ass and
pulling it towards his dick. Without hesitation, he slides back into me. I arch
my back and push my butt towards him as we both kneel, fucking like animals.

“Fuck,” I whimper, this angle is unbelievably intense,
matched by the pressure of his hands on my body.  His balls slap my clit,
and I prepare to let go, but he beats me to it, releasing inside me.

I let him work his come out. Then as he picks up speed and
fucks me harder than ever, I uncontrollably convulse. “Fuck yeah, baby, come on
my cock,” he grunts.

Panting from going at it so hard, I heave for air. But King
doesn’t seem to notice as he pulls me up so I’m on my knees like he is. My back
is to his front and his arms are secured around me as he begins another round.
You’d think the vertigo would get the best of him…but I guess not.

“I love you,” he murmurs into my ear. And in this moment,
with this man, as wild as our story is, I don’t think I could feel it more.

“I love you, too.”