chapter TWELVE
Since I don’t have a bathing suit, my golf attire will have to do for our catamaran ride. Jax left his cargo shorts and navy t-shirt on, probably out of fear that if he went upstairs to change, I’d bolt.
We’re standing on the sandy beach of Kalapaki Bay. The cove is partially protected from the open ocean by a break in the rocky wall of mountains that surround it.
Jax puts down his credit card down for the one-hour catamaran rental at a hut on the beach. For someone who wants me to get to know the real him, he certainly is limiting his time.
“Here you go.” He hands me a life vest, and the two of us make our way to the water where the salesman holds the boat for us to board.
Not having any clue how to sail, I take a seat in the center and get comfortable. The man gives Jax a mini-lesson on how to use the small boat and then pushes us away from the sand. There’s an oar-like paddle on the back for steering, and the sail can be maneuvered from left to right—it looks basic enough.
Jax pulls on a rope, and the wind picks us up, pulling us into the bay. The water is relatively still compared to the vast ocean that’s just beyond the break. He navigates the catamaran to the right and further into the cove. The breeze flows through my hair, and I lean on my hands and breathe in the fresh, salt air.
Leaning overboard, I gaze into the crystal blue waters to the reefs beneath. Rainbow fish swim through the brilliant coral, and a sea turtle passes by. I can’t contain my excitement seeing the endangered species.
Jax nestles beside me, and together we watch angelfish with yellow and black stripes, salmon-colored squirrelfish, and a school of these neon fish—neither of us can name—dive through the coral and swim around.
With the hot afternoon sun beating on our backs, we cool off with handfuls of water from the bay. Time escapes me as we bask in the heat of the day and enjoy the marine life.
“We have plenty of time.” He comments out of the blue as though he read my thoughts.
He sits up long enough to remove his life jacket and then sits back down with his arms outstretched and his eyes closed.
“The rules said you have to wear a life jacket,” I admonish.
He doesn’t bother opening his eyes. “I can walk in this water.”
I scrunch my face at him. “What about if we drift into deeper waters?”
“We won’t.”
“We could.”
He pops open an eye. “Then I’ll put it back on.”
With a harrumph, I rise up on my knees and take my own life jacket off.
Jax lowers his brows. “Aren’t you the pot calling the kettle black.”
I sit back down and curl my legs to the side. “If you’re not wearing that stupid thing, why should I have to suffocate?” I wipe away the moisture forming on my neck. “It’s a thousand degrees today.”
“Most people do this is a swimsuit.”
“True.”
The water gently laps around the boat, and the birds chirp in a chorus with the waves. I fill my cheeks with air and then blow it out in a long breath.
Jax just sits there, basking in the breeze. The light stubble on his jaw glistens in the Pacific sun showing the natural, golden strands of his hair—the highlights are what makes the color so unbelievably gorgeous, light weaved through the dark.
I try to get comfortable and do my best to imitate Jax by leaning back on my palms to take in the rays. But the moment of relaxation lasts about sixty seconds before I’m back to twisting in my seat.
The catamaran continues to slowly drift, and we’ve moved further away from the beach and toward the break that leads to the ocean.
“We should head back.”
“Can’t,” he says calmly.
I narrow my eyes in question.
“I don’t know how to drive this thing.”
I part my lips to speak, then halt, confused by what just came out of his mouth.
“You drove us, or sailed, whatever—here—now get us back,” I demand.
“That was sheer luck and a gust of wind. I stopped navigating as soon as I lost wind. We’re stuck here for a while.” There’s a calm about his body as he lays there, eyes closed, chest moving in soothing breaths.
My stomach drops. My heart races.
The water below us feels to be moving like a rapid current. The gentle lapping has morphed into a violent current, and I can’t hear anything other than the wind gusting past my ears.
I rise to my knees and start touching everything from the sail, to the rope that’s attached to it, and even the paddle in a feverish attempt to get this thing to move…but it doesn’t budge. The absolute loss of control makes my chest feel heavy like the mountains have settled in over my diaphragm.
The break toward the ocean closes in. Clouds in the air swirl around us. A hurricane brews.
We need to move.
We need to move right now.
If we don’t get out of here, we’ll be lost at sea.
“Trish, what’s happening?” Jax asks in a panic.
I drop my hands to the ground and fumble like a woman without sight as I dramatically look for my life preserver.
“My jacket.” I gasp for breaths. “I need my life jacket.”
Jax leans forward and places two hands on my arms. “Breathe, Trish. Look at me. I got you.”
“I can’t. I need to protect myself. My jacket. Where the hell is my jacket?” I scream. My hands have risen to the side of my head.
Jax releases a hand and reaches over and grabs my life preserver. He holds it in the air with his finger. “It’s right here.”
A mild relief rushes through me. I stretch to grab it from him. My fingers are almost at the nylon fabric when he raises his arm and tosses it far into the water.
I crash into the side of the boat as I watch it float away. “What the hell did you do that for?”
He grabs his life jacket and tosses it over as well.
“Are you out of your mind?” I panic.
He holds my arms again and rubs them soothingly. His head lowers to mine, and then Jax looks me straight in the eye. “I got you.”
I turn my head to the side. “You’re gonna get us killed.”
“Look around. We’ve got a crystal-blue sky. The water is smooth as glass, and we’re only a couple meters from the beach—in a cove. We’re safe—trust me.”
I take a couple of quick breaths and look around. He’s right. The water is still, not the volcanic tides I had just imagined. Nor is the sky darkening with a storm.
What is my mind doing to me? Just the slightest loss of control and I fall into a manic state.
“I can’t trust you.” My words are low but heard as if I screamed them into the silent afternoon.
Jax’s lips close tightly just before it falls into a frown. “I know. I wish with all my heart that wasn’t the case.” The weary look he portrays hits me straight in the gut.
The tears that threatened to release are building again. He wants me to trust him when he’s the one person I fear most.
“I made a mistake.” His voice is sincere as his thumbs run gentle circles on my skin and gently places his forehead against mine. The close proximity is so intimate, so perfect—I want to melt further into him.
But I can’t. With a shake of my head, I pull away.
“It was more than a mistake. A mistake is forgetting to turn off the coffee pot or making a left when you should have gone right.” A simmering rage builds deep within my belly. “You put our sex tape online—no, not our sex tape. That would imply you were impacted. No, it was a video of me—a sixteen-year-old girl, stark naked in her bedroom. My entire body featured for millions of people to see.” A decade’s worth of aggression rises up. My heart is on fire with a bubbling heat and searing pain. “I was pleasuring you. Loving you. And the way you had the camera angled up, it was like I was some kind of cheap whore.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be like that.” He looks at me like a puppy behind a cage, begging for someone to love it.
I won’t stand for it. I rise to my feet and let my wrath rain down on him.
“What was it supposed to be like? Come on, Jax. Isn’t this what you wanted? For us to hash it out. Relive the past. You wanted me to get to know you. The man. As if I could just forget and forgive the heinous past. You don’t get to just walk away from it. I have to live with it every day, now so do you.”
“You don’t have to relive anything,” he says.
“How dare you! It’s the biggest part of me. It’s why I don’t trust people. It’s why I can’t be intimate, truly intimate with anyone. It’s why my relationships fail. It’s why I quit my jobs while I’m ahead. I’ve gotta bail before anyone finds out. It’s why I have to run away from anything that’s important to me. It’s why I’m closed off and scared. It’s why I fall into panic attacks in the middle of a Goddamn bay. You. Destroyed. Me.”
“I destroyed me, too,” he shouts. His voice is loud—it shakes me so hard, I nearly fall over. “I’ve been a fucking mess for ten years. So don’t you dare say I don’t understand.”
He stands up, his six-foot stature towering over me. With dark eyes and a darker expression, he releases his own angst. “I may not have been in that video, but the one person I loved more than anything else in this world was. Do you know what it’s like knowing I can’t take back something like that? How every call and plea goes unanswered? I tried to get in touch with you. I went to your house, but your dad sucker punched me. ”
I hear his words, but I don’t remember that happening.
Jax continues, “I told him about us, our relationship and how we kept it a secret from everyone. I tried to explain the video and how it got share. He didn’t care. He laid me out on your front porch. I called for you. I cried for you, but you wouldn’t come down the stairs. And I get it—I hurt you. I betrayed your trust. I know my sins. God, Trish, I know I sinned. Just don’t tell me you were the only one who was hurt.”
He grabs the ends of his hair and pulls them at the root as if he wants to cause himself physical pain. “Do you know what it’s like to be reminded every day that you’re a fuck up? When your own father reminds you that you’re one law suit away from ruining everything he’s worked for. You know what happens? You eventually believe it. That’s why I dropped out of school. It was a stupid decision, but I was a dumb kid with a broken heart and a bad attitude.”
His chest heaves as the words race from his mouth like he’s out of breath from running a mile, yet we’ve merely drifted a foot. He grabs onto the pole of the sail and leans into it for support.
With a look full of sorrow, he speaks in a calmer voice. “I promise you, I never meant for that tape to get out. I showed it to my friends. I had no idea it was going to go on YouTube. It all happened so fast. I couldn’t keep up with how fast it spread. I’m sorry, Trish. I’m so sorry. I know you’ll never forgive me—I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I know that.”
His eyes are like glass, shiny and wet, and two tears trickle from his eyes followed by another and another. I want so badly to lean forward and wipe the moisture from his skin, to kiss his lips that are pouty and pink. They spoke with so much anger, yet with so much soul.
My heart is pounding, my ears are ringing with the heavy drumbeat. Each note is louder with every second that I stare into his eyes and feel the pain—not my pain—his pain. The pain of a man who has walked with a cross on his back for a decade.
While I want to scream, spit, and curse at him, there’s something in my soul that’s holding me still. Despite the bitter hatred and disgust, I have for him, I can’t help but want to help him heal.
With as much self-control as I can muster, I look down. My eyes are trained on the blue mesh we’re standing on. It looks so flimsy, yet is tough enough to hold the weight of ten men. I wonder if my heart is just as strong.
“That’s it then,” I say, clearing my throat. “I guess all is forgiven. You didn’t mean it. Let’s just figure out a way to head back.”
“That’s not it, Trish.”
My voice is soft. “It’s over. You said your peace. I heard you. I believe you.”
“It’s not over.” He grabs my arms, forcing me to look up and into his searing gaze burning hot into my soul. “You’re still broken.” No truer words have been spoken.
I turn away from him and look out into the water and notice we’ve drifted further from the beach.
“You know what. I’m not buying it.” His coarse tone forces me to whip my head in his direction, unsure if I heard the words correctly. From the sneer on his face, I know it’s exactly what he said.
And he’s not done.
“This whole broken, damaged girl thing…” He motions toward me kneeling on the ground. “No, you shouldn’t trust me, but there’s no reason why you can’t trust anyone.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“I think you need this. You’ve clung to this pain for so long it’s a part of who you are. It’s your excuse. Anything that goes wrong in your life, you can just walk away because deep down, you’re the girl that was hurt.”
“How dare you.” I blanch. I take back all that nonsense about wanting to heal him—he’s just a narcissist.
“Come on, Trish. When was the last time you took a chance?”
My hands slam onto the boat as I lean forward and defend myself. “I’m in Hawaii. I moved here, didn’t I?”
“You ran! You ran away from Virginia, you ran to New York, and now you’re here. When things don’t go the way you want, you run. You don’t have to stay anywhere because you’re always the victim. When are you going to stop being the victim?”
I rise to my feet. “Fuck you!”
“Why aren’t you a reporter? It’s not because of the tape. The girl I fell in love with would have done anything to follow her dream. You got scared, and you ran from your dream.”
“Shut up!”
“Those failed relationships? Why didn’t any of them work?” I search my brain, thinking back to the guys I’ve dated since Jax. The reasons for each allude me. Doesn’t matter, he has an answer ready. “Because they’re not me.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Then why are you still wearing my necklace?”
I fumble with the pendant that’s now out of my shirt and resting against my clavicle. I run my thumb over the rose and feel the sharp edges.
Jax takes a step forward. “I saw it in the hospital, and I saw it the other day in my hotel room. That’s why I’m here, Trish. Because despite the pain, I know you still believe.”
I close my eyes. My jaw trembles and my heart is about to burst. “Believe what?”
“That I’m not the devil you’ve made me out to be. It’s not me that you don’t trust. It’s you. You loved me, Trish. And I loved you. It was real.”
The tears. The burning, hot tears now cascading down my face in an uncontrollable current I can’t hold back.
“You can’t do this!” I cry. “You can’t come here nine years later and pretend you know me. You can’t stand here and say you’re sorry and expect me to drop to my knees.” I clench my teeth and ask him the question I’ve been dying to ask him every day since I left Virginia. “Why didn’t you come after me? If you loved me, why didn’t you fight for me to hear your side?”
His mouth opens in shock. It must be the one question he doesn’t have the answer to.
He pulls on his hair, more gently this time. His face is wet with the tears he spilled. He’s still gripping the pole of the sail as he looks out in the water. “You don’t believe it, but I did try to talk to you. Your father wouldn’t let me, and neither would mine. I went back to school and found myself lost. I was just like you are now. For years, I told myself I wasn’t good enough to be a lawyer because I was the asshole who betrayed you. I dropped out of school. I drank myself into an oblivion and did stupid shit like land in a hospital in New York. I’ve been punishing myself. But I’m done, Trish. And it’s time you are, too. We need to stop doing this and move on. We deserve happiness.”
I close my eyes and swallow down my tears. With a clenched fist, I listen to the breeze as it hits the sail. There’s a soothing heat that builds from behind me as the sun pours down on me, bathing me in its energy.
As much as I hate everything he just said, I can’t deny one thing.
He’s right.
For years, I’ve used what he’s done to me as an excuse. Yes, I was hurt, but I should never have let it define me. Every guy I’ve dated, every chance at true intimacy was sabotaged. I’ve come close to getting the positions I wanted, but my fear of failure was masked by the story of my past I kept in my head. At the forefront, ready to be used at any given time.
I’m still holding onto the necklace. The rose is practically indented into my thumb. I unclench my hand and raise it up to unclasp the necklace.
With the rose in my hand, the chain dangling from my fingertips, I look at it one last time. “You’re right. About all of it,” I whisper. “I did love you. And now it’s over.” With one final tear, I throw the necklace overboard and say goodbye to nine years of holding on.
Jax’s eyes are trained on the spot where I threw the necklace. His brows are curved down, and his mouth is pursed. His hand rises to his cheek and wipes the spots under his eyes. He takes a deep breath and just stares.
I go back to looking out into the coral reef and the place where we finally say goodbye to our past.
I hear a splash and see Jax has jumped into the water. He swims to the front of the boat and starts pulling us back to shore.