Chapter 3

THREE

Present

The walls in my chest press against my lungs, making the simple act of breathing almost impossible.

Charlottes’ wide eyes panic at my silence, but as always, she gives me a moment to collect myself without pushing me into deeper shock.

“BJ,” I barely manage, my eyes falling to the floor. “Bentley James Woods.”

The sound of Charlotte’s heavy sigh echoes in the kitchen. Death itself, is never right with its timing, always shocking us no matter who the person may be.

“What happened?”

“Heart attack,” I barely choke. “He passed away this morning.”

I reread the text message but this time out loud. It was sent from a former employee of mine who is quite close to Bentley back in London.

“Lex,” Charlotte’s voice softens as she places her hand on my arm. “He was so young.”

The reality is brutal with its force. It shines a light on my own mortality. Deep down, I know why this pain feels real, why it’s hitting hard at this moment.

I lower my head. “He was my age.”

Charlotte immediately shakes her head. “No, don’t do this.”

“If it can happen to a man like him, why can’t it happen to a man like me?”

Suddenly, Charlotte grabs the front of my robe and pulls me into her. She buries her head into my chest while soft sobs escape her.

Death is not something we are strangers to. There have been loved ones from Charlotte’s mother to my own father.

And the one which rocked us the most—Elijah.

My arms wrap around Charlotte to comfort her and ease the worry I know she is feeling. Seconds, maybe even minutes, pass of just silence. Then, slowly, she pulls away, but I keep her close.

“When was the last time you spoke to him?”

I shrug, trying to do the math in my head, but it’s all a blur. Our entrance into the business world is what brought us into each other’s lives and the only thing we had in common. At least, the only thing I choose to remember we had in common.

“I’m not sure, maybe a year ago.”

“Once we know when the funeral will take place, we must attend,” Charlotte insists while taking a deep breath, but I half-listen. “I forgot we have all the grandkids. Surely, it will be at least a week to prepare everything. The kids will be back by then, and we can go straight to London. Adriana can stay here to watch over Alexa. Maybe we should ask his family if they need help with anything?”

“He didn’t have a family. An only child and his parents are long gone,” I inform her, shedding light on the facts. “Never married because he enjoyed the freedom to sleep around.”

“I can’t imagine how sad that must be to not have family and to live life without someone you love …” Charlotte trails off.

I force a small smile, then bring her hand to my lips and place a gentle kiss.

“Let’s not imagine it,” I remind her softly. “We have everything we ever wanted.”

* * *

Our bags were packed within four hours of the kids returning from Cancun. Then, we hopped straight into a private plane to Heathrow.

All week, I tried my best to focus on our grandkids. They proved to be the best distraction with all their demands and need for our attention. Though, when their parents arrived, I breathed a sigh of relief. I love them all, but silence is golden. Also, enjoying a meal without interruption is a blessing no one speaks of.

As for Alexa, she avoided me since our argument. She had no words, and I had no words. What do you say when your daughter says she hates you? The wound is still open, but thankfully, she did listen and was home every night. With Adriana watching her, I made sure to inform my sister of Alexa’s rules. Adriana is much more relaxed with her own children, but I also know I can rely on her when needed.

Ten and a half hours later, the plane’s wheels hit the tarmac at Heathrow. The landing is reasonably smooth, and in typical England style, the sky is gray with the sun missing behind a cluster of clouds.

Visiting London is not something we often do, but of the times I’ve been back, the nostalgia is a force to be reckoned with. Every place, every street we drove down, has some memory attached to it. Some are pleasant, and some I would rather forget.

We chose to stay at The Four Seasons at Park Lane as our properties are all tenanted. Unlike Manhattan, it never made sense for us to purchase a place to stay since our visits were few and far between. The kids always preferred to spend time in France at our chateau because their cousins were next door when Noah and Kate’s visited too.

Our flight arrived in the late afternoon, making it dinner time when we check-in. Charlotte appears exhausted, despite her resting on the plane. During the last week, she did her best to juggle taking care of the kids and trying to work when I took over. But, of course, Charlotte refused to slow down because she didn’t want to fall behind despite having a competent team working in the office.

“Why don’t I order room service? We have a big day tomorrow.”

Charlotte simply nods, too tired to even form a sentence, falling limp on the plush sofa inside the sitting room. When the food arrives, she takes some bites but looks close to falling asleep at the table.

“I don’t think I can make it.” She yawns.

A soft chuckle escapes me. “I’m surprised you didn’t fall asleep after the first bite. Go to sleep.”

“Are you coming?”

I rub my chin with a smirk. “Is that a question?”

Charlotte lets out a huff but follows with a grin. “Are you coming to bed? Don’t get offended if I fall asleep if you try anything.”

“We’ve been married for what?”

“A long time,” she answers with a knowing smile.

When it comes to Charlotte, I’m greedy and selfish about my needs. But, at this moment, I’m sympathetic to my wife’s needs. It’s been a very long week for both of us, and even I feel worn down and tired.

As the night falls, so does Charlotte into a deep sleep. I’m hoping to do the same but find myself tossing and turning with flashes of my past life with BJ. When it all becomes too much, I turn over and glance at the clock. It’s just after midnight.

Inside my suitcase, there is a bottle of sleeping pills. It’s rare for me to take medications, but given the nature of tomorrow, I hop out of bed and pop one, eventually falling asleep.

The following day, I manage to wake up despite the aided assistance of the pills. As I slide my arms inside the black suit jacket, Charlotte stands beside me in the mirror. Even for a funeral, she looks stunning in the simple black dress she wears.

“Are you okay?” she gently asks with concern.

“I’m fine,” I simply answer. “We should leave in order to make the ceremony and the burial.”

BJ was a man who wasn’t fond of commitment. He often joked about my life, referring to Charlotte as the ball and chain. His British humor wasn’t offensive nor belittling, and even though he called Charlotte such names, he equally enjoyed her company whenever we were together. She knew how to tame the bastard in her presence, and because of that—he respected her very much.

Perhaps, in hindsight, his humor was masking his loneliness.

Today, his life of solitude is noticeable.

Attending his funeral are only a small number of people. His former nanny, an elderly lady, is sitting in a wheelchair being assisted by a nurse. The woman’s posture is fallen, her limbs frail and thin, yet inside her pale hands, she clutches onto rosary beads with her eyes closed.

Standing in a huddle are business partners he had dealt with of late. Accompanying them are their partners. I see one of my former employees, the one who sent me the text message.

Then, there is his polo club team. They wear their uniform to honor him—pale blue shirts with white pants. BJ was fond of the sport having grown up in England. Personally, I had no interest even though he tried numerous times to make me join and play while I lived in London.

But, notably absent is anyone in his life who meant more to him than an acquaintance.

Kate sent her condolences, though I never expected her to attend. Their relationship, if you could even call it that, was a long time ago. At the time, I chose to ignore what was going on because they were grown adults and their personal lives were theirs, provided it did not affect business.

However, typical Kate still organized a large wreath of flowers for today despite her ties with him being a thing of the past.

As we stand in the cemetery, a minister reads from the bible while we pay our respects and say goodbye. A man from the polo team says a prayer, but no one comes forward to give any personal tributes.

Perhaps, just like me, there are no words to be said.

During the ceremony, Charlotte holds my hand tight behind the oversized sunglasses she wears.

And just like that, it all ends.

Bentley James Woods is laid to rest.

A moment of silence is given before people begin to walk away to the cars parked beside the green lawns.

My feet are planted firmly in the spot I’m standing, staring quietly at the open ground which holds the body of a man who once was my saving grace.

His life walked a path similar to my own. BJ was forced to take control of a family empire, thrust upon the ruthless world of money. Just like me, he battled his demons, and this is what brought us together.

But with this came darkness.

A time when my demons were tormenting me over how I treated Charlotte and ended things between us. How the lies of my former wife, and my father’s actions led me to lose the one person I promised never to leave behind.

How my own weakness damaged everything, we were beyond repair.

When days and nights were a blur, I consumed narcotics and anything I could get my hands on to take away the pain, including women. On many occasions, more than one at a time, and sometimes it was me and BJ with one woman.

A woman who demanded we tie her up and treat her like a slave for our own satisfaction. The vicious cycle we both found ourselves in was toxic and disturbing, but while high—nothing else mattered.

The tightness inside my chest restricts my ability to breathe at an average pace, but then, I admit what weighs so heavily on my mind.

“This could have been me.”

Charlotte squeezes my hand tightly, silently shaking her head.

“It’s not you. So, why would you say it could’ve been you?”

“Because Charlotte, once upon a time, this was me. I was alone,” I clench my teeth with a bittersweet pain. “I did the same things he did. Things I’m not proud of. But then I ran into you in the restaurant, and it all changed.”

“It’s fate,” she whispers beside me. “We both did things we weren’t proud of, but fate led us to each other.”

My eyes fixate on the ground as all my mistakes rise to the surface.

“Lex, everything you have is everything you deserve. You are worth all the blessings you’ve been given.”

Releasing a breath, I nod, then smile, leaning over to kiss the top of Charlotte’s head.

I am blessed.

I’ve been given a life filled with a family I never expected. Experienced love in every form, and above everything, a life partner I’m proud to call my wife.

Yet, the longer I stand here, the more I think about how easily my life could have taken a different turn. I could have been the one lying in this cold ground.

Bentley James Woods is who I would have become if I didn’t make a last-minute decision to attend the meeting at the Japanese restaurant where I ran into Charlotte.

The irony of this all is BJ was the one who pushed me to meet with investors that day. He had heard some unsettling rumors of one of the stakeholders laundering money and insisted I make an appearance to show him who’s boss.

And that’s where it all began, again.

Gazing into the eyes of the woman who left her mark a long time ago, in the backyard of my parents’ home, inside the treehouse, the memories begin to play, some sweet, some painful.

But all of them lead to us …