chapter TWENTY FIVE
“Still no word?” Ali’i rubs my back as she places a cup of tea on the table.
My head is resting in my palm while other supports the weight of my body on the table.
I left my apartment last night and went straight to the airport. Jax wasn’t there and they wouldn’t let me through the gate without a ticket. Since I left my house without my bag, I couldn't even buy one.
Nowhere else to go, I came straight to Auli’i and Lani’s house. Kal and Benji packed my things so I didn’t have to see Kelli. Benji said he got her back good and I don’t even want to think about what kind of heinous thing he did to her toothbrush or underwear drawer or whatever he did. The less I know, the better.
I’ve been friends with Kelli for so long, I have a void in my gut. Sure, I should have seen her friendship for what it was: superficial. She likes my victim status because it elevated her self-righteous decisions. I just don't understand why I had to be the martyr. Or better yet, Jackson had to suffer.
His story has been on all of the major websites and entertainment programs. Seeing his reputation smeared across the screen is everything I was avoiding years ago. Watching it happen to him feels ten thousand times worse.
He was right. The villain has become the victim.
Except it wasn’t me, and while a huge part of me is sad, I’m also incredibly bitter. How could he believe I did it? He didn’t give me a chance to explain. He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t care.
Lani found an image online that wasn’t blurred out. It’s not the best of pictures, but its lewd and indecent.
And for Jax it must be incredibly embarrassing.
“I’ve been calling nonstop.” I raise my head to Auli’i as she takes a seat next to me at the kitchen table.
She sighs, placing her hand under my chin to lift my face in appraisal. “You have not slept. It’s not healthy to treat your body this way.”
“How can I? “ I know I look pale and my insides feel hollow. Still, I can’t just sit here any longer. I stand and look around the room, getting my bearings on where I put my stuff. Mainly, my purse. “I have to get to work.”
“You can call in sick. Lani is already at the hotel handling everything for you.”
Lani is more than capable of handing my job. I just can’t sit still any longer. Just the thought of the hotel and my current guests, Alexander Asher and Noah Kanë, have me fidgeting with my keys. My purse was on the kitchen counter. “I’m antsy. I need to keep myself busy.”
Auli’i runs her hands along the palm leaf able cloth. Her kind eyes smile as she stands and motions toward the door. “Yes. The soul needs to keep moving. Come, I’ll walk you to your car.”
My car is in the front. While I want to run to it, I keep the painfully slow pace that Auli’i travels at out of a sign of respect. Although this morning she seems to be extra slow. We walk down the front steps in an unhurried pace and then stroll casually to the car, taking the longest route possible past a row of shrubs.
Her eyes close as she inhales a pink flower growing. Looking up into the su, she lets the heat radiate through her as if finding peace in nature.
“This is the Aloha rose,” she plucks a rose from the tree.
I take it, tentatively. “I thought it was bad luck to pick flowers?” I ask.
“Roses are meant to be shared.” She lifts her palm in the air as if to tell me to take a wiff. I really don’t have time for this, but I appease her. Bringing the rose to my nose I inhale the sweet fragrance. It’s mildly soothing.
“The pink cottage rose is the only nonnative plant to be a recognized as an official flower of the Hawaiian island. It’s pretty, right?”
I nod my head and inhale again. It feels like an off time for a lesson on horticulture.
“It thrives here on the island but it’s roots lie elsewhere.” She has a twinkle in her eye. Her wisdomly nature shining through.
“So you’re saying I should leave?”
“No. My dear. Hawaii is in your heart.” She leans forward and places a hand on my heart. He soft skin is cool, yet my skin warms under her touch. “You’re here whether you like it or not.” Her hand moves higher to my clavicle and the gold rose I wear around my neck. “You’re also there.”
I feel as if a thousand hours of tension have escaped my body. What’s left is a pile of mush.
“I did everything I could to get away from my past. I don’t want it to be a part of me anymore.”
She lowers his hand to grab my hands – one in each. There’s an energy pouring through her that makes me feel as if fifteen hundred years of strength is being passed on through her bones.
“You are your roots. They are what make you strong.”
I nod in understanding. While I can’t dwell on the past, they are a part of my history. I stand strong on the joy and the pain of the past to build into a greater woman. “He thinks I wronged him. How do I get him to forgive me?”
She taps my nose. “Ah, you already know the answer.”
Repentance. Forgiveness. Gratitude. Love.
Jax came to repent for his sins and I forgave him. He released me from my fears and I am eternally grateful. The bond brought a love stronger than any scandal can destroy.
What I never did was forgive myself.
“You need to restore your own harmony. If you heal yourself, you can heal the world.”
…
Lani is surprised to see me as I burst into the Kauai Princes with a determined walk and my hand gripping my chest with the rose clenched in my fist. I give her a wave as I walk straight through the lobby and out the back.
The concert is over so the media elite are heading home today. Hopefully there’s someone who decided to stay behind.
The loungers by the pool have familiar faces, but not the one I want to see. It’s in the Birds of Paradise restaurant that I find her. She has severely straight, blonde hair and too short bangs. She’s seated with another woman and looking over a menu.
Kal is walking passed me, but stops as if he can see something determined in my stare. Even Isaiah halts from making the drink he has on the bar. They watch as I make my to my destination.
I stop at her table and hover. She jolts at the sight of a random stranger standing at her side, quite possibly wondering if I’m a fan or crazy or what.
“Cara Scott from Rolling Stone magazine?”
She blinks up at me. Her head tilted in interest.
“My name is Trish Hogan and I have a story for you.”