Kaia pulled back. She wished she could tell him all this without sounding like a complete loon.
He was staring at her in a way that made her feel as if she'd made a major misstep. What did he want from her?
"I want you to be happy," she whispered, expressing the deepest wish of her heart.
"I am happy," he insisted.
"You don't seem happy."
He pulled his mouth sideways. "What do I seem like?"
"Lost. Lonely."
"I have everything I've ever wanted." He jammed his fingers through his damp hair.
"And still," she whispered. "Not happy."
He didn't argue the point, just hauled in a taut, audible breath. "When this deal goes through with China, when the money comes in, I'll be the richest Lockhart in the history of the Trans-Pecos. Richer than my father."
"And then you'll be happy?"
He didn't answer.
Kaia met his eyes, held his gaze lovingly, steadily, and whispered, "That's what I thought."
Chapter 21
Why did it feel like he was sitting in a police station, hands cuffed behind his back, a spotlight shoved in his face? Kaia's inquisition was innocent enough and yet it felt like she was testing him on some moral level.
And then you'll be happy?
Her words spoken so kindly, so softly, shimmered in the air like a heat mirage.
And then you'll be happy?
Good question.
He was thirty-two and he'd achieved everything he'd ever dreamed of. Showing up his father, besting him in his own industry, earning more money than he could spend, eating in the best restaurants, wearing the finest clothes, driving the fastest cars, flying his own plane, having the prettiest women on his arm.
Why did he feel so empty?
How was it she'd put it? Lost. Lonely.
None of it-not the money, not the possessions, not his position, not the women-had made him happy. It was supposed to make him happy. Why wasn't he happy?
That, friends and neighbors, was the million-dollar question.
Christmas on a cracker. Now that everything he'd ever dreamed of was within his grasp, he didn't want any of it. How had this happened?
"What do you want, Ridge?" Kaia asked. "Independent of this need to show up your father?"
"I'd like for my father not to be an asshole."
"I have no magic wand for that," Kaia said. "But you know in your heart of hearts, he loves you in his weird way."
"I suppose. At least he didn't disown me like my mother and my grandmother did. But he might as well have disowned me. The results were the same. I felt all alone in the world."
Kaia slanted her head. "I've got news for you, Ridge."
"Yeah?"
"You've disowned yourself."
What the hell was she talking about? He frowned, grunted.
"Your mother obviously had some mental issues and so did your grandmother. Their behavior wasn't about you. It was about them. Duke too. He was trying to make a new marriage to Ranger's mom work when you showed up. He was between a rock and a hard place."
"Still, he didn't have to be a total dick about it."
"No, but you're still beating yourself up for the way they behaved. As if you were the cause of the problems. You weren't. But you internalized it and now you can't let it go."
"Oh yeah?" He narrowed his eyes.
"You're terrified that if you stop doing, achieving, moving and shaking, you'll cease to exist. Wanna know the truth?"
"Because you have all the answers?" His tongue tasted poisonous.
"Not all the answers. No, but I can see what you can't because you're too close to it. The truth is when you stop all the doing, achieving, moving, and shaking, that's when you'll finally be found."
Anger bubbled up inside him. Who was she to tell him how to live his life? She knew nothing about him.
"You've lost touch with the real you, and no amount of grasping and striving will help you find the peace you're so obviously searching for. You can own the biggest house, drive the fastest car, eat in the most expensive restaurants but that will never make you happy. You're using external things to salve those childhood wounds that cannot be healed by tangible things."
"Wow," he said, icing up inside, feeling as if she'd turned against him. "Seems like you got me all figured out."
"You never got over losing your mother at a young age. She made the choice to leave you, but you keep holding on to that grief with both hands. Blaming yourself. You still think that it's your fault. That if you'd been a better kid she would have loved you enough to stay."
"Is that so?" he asked through gritted teeth, as if he'd just chewed glass.
"You've got a hole in your heart that's never going to heal as long as you keep seeing money and status as the Holy Grail." She reached out and touched his arm.