5. – Miya
I hadn’t moved.
Tried not to breathe.
If I just sat still, I could think. I needed to think. Or maybe I didn’t. Maybe this wasn’t so much reality as it was a dream. I wasn’t sure it was a nightmare, either. That was the terrifying part. I left for me, because I needed the space to breathe and get out from under the pressure of our love. And in seconds, that pressure was back. Bearing down on me like the energy buzzing inside of a storm. All that time I’d left, I hadn’t left that pressure.
The intensity of our love had been waiting for me. Growing and getting hungrier. But it was my love for Jaxon. His love may have grown tired and gone elsewhere. He could be acting nice. Waiting to hurt me like I hurt him. Or he could simply not care at all.
Which was infinitely worse.
Sighing, I smoothed my hands down the front of my dress and then placed them on the table in front of me. The table cloth was the color of cream, and the scent of eggs benedict floated around me mixed with mimosa’s. I waved a waiter over and asked for a mimosa too. Sans the orange juice. So just champagne. “A bottle,” I suggested, giving the waiter a nervous smile that he returned.
“And for you?” he asked Jaxon.
I listened intently for his answer.
“Black tea, if you have it.”
“Cream and sugar?”
“Yes, thanks.”
Had his voice gotten deeper? Or had my ears gotten used to not hearing it. His voice was rich and deep and yet smooth, flowing over me and giving me goosebumps. I couldn’t imagine spending two years without it. I couldn’t imagine two more years without it. That was dangerous. That was turning my back on me and running back into the arms of exactly what had made me run.
It was an entirely insidious thing to want, to need, what drove you to madness. I hated myself for wondering what his madness felt like now. It was sitting there, when I shouldn’t have been, when I realized something horrible. Maybe madness wasn’t the evil force here.
Maybe I’d run in the wrong direction.
Maybe sitting there ripping through my choices made me want to run again. Rubbing my temples, the champagne arrived at the perfect time. I grabbed up the flute and downed it, scrunching my nose up at the fizz.
Five more days… and then I could leave.
This wasn’t a second coming.
This was the final straw.
Still, the sound of my roaring pulse drowned out all the other occupants in the room. I’d forgotten what I was even doing there until Sam began talking about the flower arrangement. Again. Part of me thought it was endearing to see him so far gone over things like flowers, but another part of me wanted to stab him in the eye with my fork.
Beside me, Jaxon grumbled and shifted in his seat. He reached for the sugar and poured two huge spoonsful into the murky liquid. I watched the fine granules cascade into the tea in a trance. The amber tea swallowed up the light crystals so fast, I never even got to truly enjoy them. But that didn’t stop the tea from tasting sweet. If anything, the sweetness meant more to the tea than it did to me. My eyes drifted to Jaxon’s face, and I found his dark eyes already on me.
Our eyes locked.
My heart exploded in my chest.
He was even sexier now than the last time I saw him. His dark chocolate eyes were clearer. His jaw more defined, bone structure hard enough to cut ice. He looked leaner, too. He’d lost weight or gained muscle. He was so much man beside me. His cologne smelled thickly of spices, cinnamon and clove, mixed with richer notes like whiskey-soaked oak, and sweeter notes clung to the edges; caramel and something bitter, like cigar smoke. Tears filled my eyes at the aroma. It encompassed him so truthfully, I found myself holding the perfect aroma in my lungs as our eyes dueled.
Without even meaning to, I’d shown him every single thing I was feeling. My face must be an I love Jaxon poster noticeable from outer space. I slammed down the door on my expired emotions and returned to my champagne, filling the glass once more from the chilled bottle once I’d finished what was in my glass.
The first course wasn’t even finished and already I had fresh scars.
I heard a rough exhale of breath on my left and wondered if his huff of air was from irritation, or longing.
I smiled at my untouched plate and shook my head.
“What’s funny?” he wondered softly, like he was worried he’d frighten me off.
He wasn’t wrong. “I’ve been gone for two years. Not even twelve hours since I’ve been back, and it feels like nothing’s changed.”
He cleared his throat and stirred his tea. “That’s not really true, though. Everything’s changed. Most of all you.”
He sounded sad. I peeked at him through my hair to find his gaze distant on his plate, also untouched. “Wasn’t that the point?” I answered quietly.
He heaved out a sigh. “It’s hard to remember the point of anything these days.” Sitting back, he swiped his hand through his hair and let his gaze fall on mine. For a moment, like static from a television, the picture cleared, and I saw everything he was feeling displayed in his eyes the way he’d seen mine. It was gone as fast as he’d let it go, and replaced with an empty scowl, but I saw it.
And he knew I had.
I picked up my fork and dug into my breakfast. If I didn’t, horrible things would happen. I didn’t leave just to jump right back into old patterns.
The second course, of croissants and chocolate-covered fruit, were placed in front of us. Everyone around us chatted animatedly. I did what I always did. Sat there and faded into the background. If Axel were here, he’d be trying to join in, dropping useless trivia and pertinent details. He was a social chameleon, melting into any situation while I went unseen. The thought made me smile.
Jaxon’s fork clanked onto his plate.
“Where are you living?” he asked stiffly.
I didn’t look at him. “You mean Sam didn’t tell you?”
He took a breath. “I tried to respect your privacy.”
I guessed it was presumptuous of me to assume he’d even bothered to ask about me. “I’m in Vegas.”
“City of Sin. Interesting choice.”
Fine. He had me there. “It’s only sinful if you want it to be. Plus, it’s all about temptation. When you’re not tempted by anything, it’s like walking past a yarn store every day. Harmless.”
“Well, not entirely,” he answered. “I hear addictions to wool yarn are becoming a huge problem amongst the sixty to eighty age group.”
My lips quirked. “I had no idea. Sounds horrible. What’s detox like?”
He looked at me, all serious. “Polyester everywhere.”
I giggled, surprised by the sound. I hadn’t giggled in… 730’s days. “Better than poker. I swear, if I never see another casino, it’d be fine by me. Or the heat. Jaxon,” I moaned. “It gets so hot in Vegas even my sweat sweats.”
He gave me a polite smile, but there was something in his eyes. A struggle of good and evil. Polite and rough. “Doesn’t get that hot in Portland.”
I ignored his jab. Or suggestion. With him, who could tell? Wait, no, I could. And it most certainly was a metaphorical elbow to my side. “Doesn’t snow in Vegas, either,” I reminded him haughtily.
He snapped. He threw his cloth napkin onto the table and faced me. “When are you coming home? How fucking long do you need, baby?”
Baby. My panties dampened at the same time my heart trembled in fear. I held his fiery gaze bravely. “I’ll decide. It’s my choice, not yours.” I stabbed at his chest. His firm, hard chest… “So, get your overwhelming personality away from me.”
He did not. He leaned closer and put his mouth close to my ear. “You could have sent Sam a wedding present and a card. He’d never notice you weren’t here with all of the attention he’s getting.”
“What are you implying?” My cheeks were heating with anger.
“I’m simply inferring that you may’ve come for another reason.”
“What other reason would there be?” I baited.
He quirked a brow. “Me, my sweet girl. You came back for me.”
My body was two opposing storms. Ice and heat rained and burned through me. I tried to keep my outward composure together. And not melt or burst into flames. “If you remember correctly, you’re the reason I also left.”
Pain flared around his pupil. He licked his lips and nodded, accepting my unfriendly fire. “Yet you’re here.”
“For Sam,” I emphasized.
“Bullshit,” he hissed, drawing the attention of the guests sitting across from us. He shot them a glare so dark I knew he hadn’t used the last two years to change quite the same way I had. He leaned even closer to me. “Sam’s so in love he doesn’t know anything unless it comes from Livie.”
I glanced over at them at the head of the table. Love practically poured from their pores. They looked so good together. Like they’d figured it out. “He invited me.”
He snorted derisively and sat back. “It’s not enough that you leave me for two years. It’s not enough that I have to live with myself for being the force that pushed you away. You have to start lying to me now, too?” His tone softened, and my eyes burned. He grabbed for my hand, holding it gently in his. “When did things between us get that bad, baby? Huh?”
I knew the answer. But he wouldn’t like it.
“Tell me,” he urged.
“The moment I pretended to be something I wasn’t.” I met his eyes and let the truth free. “For you.”
For what it was worth, he didn’t look away. He didn’t deny it. He accepted that. Swallowed it. Made it his. “We need to talk. No walls between us. No lies. No bullshit. Just you, me, and our broken hearts.”
I let him hold my hand a moment longer and then pulled free. He was right. We needed to talk. But that felt so extremely dangerous. “In a well-lit public area,” I wagered.
His lips twitched. “How does my bedroom sound?”
I blanched; my thighs squeezed together. I rolled my eyes at him. Crap. Maybe he was right. I’d gotten so used to telling Axel what he wanted to hear, I forgot that I didn’t have to do that with Jaxon. But here was the thing. Jaxon pulled the truth from me so completely, all I was left with were lies.
That was his fault, too.