Impossible Love: An Unforeseen Destiny Novel Book One (19 page)

My heart beats wildly against my chest. I have a dad. The reality isn’t sinking in.

“Is the owner’s name John?”

Her eyes bore into mine. “Yes, how’d you know?”

“I met him the night Kai took me on his boat. He acted weird.”

“John will be at the kayak place today if you want to meet him. He wants to meet you.”

“God, Mom, why?” My hands ball up into fists. “I don’t want to be mad at you. Not now. But this is so wrong. My entire life I grew-up thinking my dad had abandoned me. That I wasn’t good enough. Me proving myself, that’s what kept driving me to be successful.”

“You will be a success no matter what you do. I’m so proud of who you turned out to be. I can never apologize enough.”

Today has to be one of those defining moments. You know, the ones that test you to see if you’ll break. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. What I decide from here will affect my entire future. But I know what I need to do.

“Mom, I have to see him. But I also need some time to myself.”

She opens her mouth in protest, but I raise my palm to quiet her.

“I’m not angry at you. Well, I am, but there’s not enough time to stew about it. I do need time to myself. I’m not sure I can be around you for a few days. I’m afraid I’ll say something regretful.” I break into sobs. “And I don’t want to hate you, Mom. I love you so much. I don’t want you to die.”

My hair dampens from Mom’s fallen tears as she leans forward to hug me. “I love you too, baby girl. It kills me to leave you behind.”

A few moments pass before we break apart and try to compose ourselves.

“Take all the time you need. I get it.” Mom swipes a finger underneath her eyes. “But I can go with you to see John if you want.”

I stand. “No. I think this is something I have to do on my own.” She acknowledges my words, so I keep going. “I’m going to get ready and then call a cab. After talking to John, I’m checking into a hotel. I hope you can understand.”

“I do.”

I stalk up the stairs to pack a few things before taking my shower. I have no idea what’s in store for me. But in a couple of hours, I guess I’ll find out.

***

As the cab pulls up to the familiar dilapidated fence, the excitement of kayaking for the first time floods my memories. God, so much has happened since that day. I’m no longer a virgin, I’ve fallen for a guy I’ll never see again‌—‌gee, how convenient‌—‌I find out my mom’s dying, but the kicker‌…‌my dad is alive and well but knew nothing about me.

I let out a frustrated sigh and exit the car before waltzing over to the desk where the crazy-haired lady from the other day sits. My feet crunches across the weeds, and the lady pops her head up to greet me, curls flapping in every direction.

“Aloha,” she says her tone welcoming. “Do you want to book a tour?”

“Aloha,” I say in return, but the word falls clumsily off my tongue. “I’m actually here to see John. Is he around?”

I hold my breath waiting for her response.

“No, I’m sorry, but he shouldn’t be too much longer. Did you want to leave a message or wait?”

I try to hide my disappointment and force a tight smile.

“I should wait.”

“Let me call him to see how long he’ll be.”

“Thanks.”

I take a few calming breaths while she places the phone call. My gaze drops to the bamboo desk I had originally thought was temporary. On further inspection, it’s rather cute and puts me in the mind of an outside tiki bar.

“I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Kayla‌…‌Kayla Cannon.”

“Kayla Cannon,” the lady repeats into the phone. “Yes, sir. Uh-huh. Sure.”

The lady ends the phone call with my dad and smiles again. “John said he’s on his way, and for you to wait for him in his office.”

The lady seems a little rattled. I’m not sure what John had said, but she’s moving at a fast pace, her arms flailing as she talks. I kind of like this lady.

“Right through here, honey.” She leads me to the office door and waves to a couple of black padded chairs in front of an old fashioned gunmetal desk. The Formica-style desktop reminds me of the countertops in my grandma’s kitchen. “You can sit over there and wait for Mr. Cox.”

“Thanks again.”

“ Mea iki.”

She exits, and my curiosity rises at John Cox’s personal haven. A large palm-leaf looking plant sits in the corner. The green accentuates the golden-mustard colored walls. Not quite the easiest color on the eyes. A large poster of a Hawaiian native banging on some huge-ass vertical drum hangs behind me. Other than the photo-framed picture of military men, the walls are bare. I pad across the tile to look at the photo. It’s a group of five men, dressed in camouflage attire. The photo is old, but I think I recognize a much younger John standing amongst the men. Going by memory, it’s hard to tell, but this guy is handsome with his trimmed dark hair.

Turning back to the desk, I meander over to the few picture frames sitting on the far right hand corner. I pick the first one up and clench my jaw at the sight of John’s arm draped around a fifteen to a sixteen-year-old boy. His son? At second glance, my anger dissipates as Kai’s face slowly appears through my jealous haze. Damn. Kai was hot even as a teenager. My finger traces the outline of his face, but the sadness expressed in his eyes makes me frown. I return the frame and grab the second photo. This image brings a warm smile to my face. John and another guy‌—‌whom I presume is Kai’s dad‌—‌stand beside a much younger Kai. Seven, maybe? This mischievous-look to Kai’s eyes is nothing compared to the shit-eating grin he’s sporting. God, he’s so cute. My gaze shifts back to Kai’s father. I pause and replace the photo, picking back up the first one. I study Kai’s expression. Fifteen‌…‌hmm.

“That photo was taken not too long after his father died,” a male voice says behind me, confirming my thoughts.

My eyes widen as I whip around to face the stranger. Sweat pools under my arms, and I have to remind myself to breathe. I force a swallow past the lump in my throat and glance at the picture, my stare lingering on Kai’s face. A pang of sympathy hurls through my insides for him.

“I don’t know what to say,” I admit, turning to replace the picture frame. “To you, I mean.”

“Why don’t we start by reintroducing ourselves?” He takes a few long strides and hovers over me. “I’m John Cox.”

“Kayla.” My voice cracks. I shake his hand and tilt my head upward to meet his eyes. His violet-blue eyes framed by long scraggly locks. My hand withdraws quickly as a rush of acknowledging surprise warms my body. Mom told the truth. This man and I share the same DNA. At least for eye-color. And maybe for height. Jeez, he’s tall. But the gray color feathered throughout the long strands of hair ages him. He’s no longer the youthful man of those pictures.

“Have a seat.” His hand sweeps to the chairs in front of his desk. “I have a feeling there’s a lot to discuss.”

I watch John as he positions himself across from me. The wary look upon his face mirrors mine. And I wonder if we’re thinking the same thing‌—‌where to start? It’s not like I can open with, “Oh, by the way, I’m the daughter you never knew. Love me.”

I suppress a groan. I should’ve taken Mom up on her offer to come with me. Her presence may have eased some of this awkwardness hanging in the air.

“I guess I’ll start with an apology for not being there in your life.” A wave of sadness filters into his expression. “I still can’t believe Cara kept you a secret all these years. But I’m trying to understand, given the circumstances.”

“Did you love my mom?” The question springs from my mouth before I could stop it. Whether he loved her or not is irrelevant, but I’d like to think I was created between two people who were at least in love.

His features soften.

“Yeah, I loved your mother very much.” He flashes his gaze to me. “I just wish she had told me sooner. I feel like we’ve lost so much time.”

This emotional struggle I’m balancing between wanting to leave and stay is befuddling. For years, I’ve written this guy out of my life. I hated him, even though I longed for a dad to be there. One who could teach me how to ride a bike, teach me to fish, or cheer for me during volleyball games.

“I’m not going to lie. Seeing you is really hard. I’ve pretty much hated you my entire life.” He flinches, but I continue, “I thought you didn’t want me.”

“Believe me, Kayla, if I had known about you, I would’ve been there.”

My eyes narrow as I take in his serious tone.

“You would’ve moved to Illinois?”

He drops his head and with the barest inclination, shakes it.

“Yeah, thought so,” I quip. I’m not sure why I’m projecting years of anger at him. It’s hardly his fault. But even if he’d known I existed, he still wouldn’t have been a major factor in my life. And the same abandonment issues would still be present.

“I may not have moved, but you would’ve known your father loves you.”

Mulling over his words, I glance at the backs of the photo frames. No other kids are displayed anywhere. But I still need to know. I take an encouraging breath and ask the one question with the most hurtful answer, “Do you have other children?”

“No, I never married.”

I don’t ask why. I don’t ask if the love he had for Mom kept him from loving anyone else. I don’t want to know. If the answer is yes, then a piece of me might die. How can a love between two people be so strong, that they don’t end up together? That certain level of devotion‌—‌that one person I’ve been holding out for my entire life‌—‌should have a happy ending. Not this. I suddenly feel sorry for my mother. She never remarried either. And her story will end tragically.

An overwhelming amount of grief slams into me like a Mac truck. My left hand covers my stomach as I pinch the bridge of my nose and try like hell not to cry.
Why didn’t I bring Mom with me?

“I didn’t know my relationship status was so upsetting?” John tries to joke.

A sound halfway between a sob and laugh squeaks out. Tears spring forth as I raise my head to John. “I don’t want Mom to die.”

“Hey,” John says. He springs from the chair and wraps his arms around me before the first tear hits the floor. “I don’t want her to die either, babydoll.”

John’s sentiment makes me cry harder, and I sob against this complete stranger’s chest. But despite the awkwardness, there’s a feeling of safeness. After a few moments, I calm down and pull away from him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t ever be sorry for crying over your mother.” His blue eyes darken with concern. “I’ve shed a few tears for the woman myself.”

“Thank you.”

He draws me in for another hug before reaching for a tissue off his desk that I gladly accept. He settles in the chair next to me and then crosses his legs.

“I know this is hard for you. And we can start slow.” He frowns. “I know your mom will need you. Especially these coming months. But then…”

His voice trails off, and my shoes become interesting as another question looms over my head. And I’m not sure I want to know this answer either. I raise my eyes and meet his stare. “What happens after Mom dies?”

Chapter
Twenty-Nine

Kai~

I check the final marks on the itinerary and waltz over to McKenna. It’s not like I’m looking forward to talking with John, but I want to discuss Cara with him. Now that I know what’s going on, I can openly talk to him about the situation. I don’t claim to be a shrink, but the man needs some help. I think if he spent the last week or so with Cara it would do him good.

“Don’t forget, you’re the nine o’clock tour tomorrow,” McKenna says at my approach.

“Ah, that’s right.” I wince, forgetting that I had switched with Roy. I glance to my right and notice John’s door shut. “Is John here? I need to talk to him.”

McKenna’s eyes widen and mouth drops open. She leans closer to me, and in a hushed voice, says, “He’s with some girl who makes him nervous. I’ve never seen him act this way. When I called to let him know she was here, he demanded that she wait for him in his office.”

My eyebrows knitted in confusion. John never lets anyone in his office without him being around. McKenna glances at the door as if afraid of getting caught.

“He came back and rushed straight to his office. He barely said hi.” She shakes her head. “It was weird.”

“Any clue who the girl is?” I glance at John’s door as if I could see through the pine wood.

“I’m not positive, but I think it’s that one lady’s daughter. You know, the one that was here the other day from your tour. Do you think he messed around with one of them?”

Every thought freezes in place as my head whips toward McKenna. “Are you sure it’s that woman’s daughter?”

“Not one-hundred percent, but her last name is Cannon.”

McKenna didn’t need to say anything else. John’s door swung open, confirming his visitor.

The name Kayla slips from my tongue. Kayla turns and faces me. An appreciative smile breaks across her tear-streaked face, and my throat squeezes shut, raising the hairs on my back of my neck. It doesn’t matter why she’s talking to John. What matters is her. I’m by her side in less than two strides, opening my arms and wrapping them around her tight body.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Kayla says, her body melting against mine as I kiss the side of her head.

McKenna’s slight gasp and John’s throat clearing remind us that we’re not alone. We step away from each other, and I notice the suitcase John’s carrying. It’s pink with purple trim, hardly his style. Okay, what the hell is going on?

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I’ve got so much to tell you,” she says.

I want to press for more information, but her pained expression stops the words lodged in my throat. I glance at John, and his taut lips and set jaw confuses me more.

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ll explain everything later.” Kayla’s voice sounds shaky as she flashes John a nervous glance. “John was bringing me to a hotel.”

My gaze cuts back to hers. “A hotel?”

“I can’t stay with Mom right now.”

What the hell? And why would John be driving her to a hotel? That is
so
not happening.