For twenty-four hours, we didn't talk. She locked herself in the bedroom and spent time screaming, crying, and sleeping. I checked on her when she finally slept, just to make sure she and our child were still okay. But finally, I forfeited the battle and decided to let her have some space, because whenever we go in calm like a couple of lambs, we leave roaring like furious lions in a battle over prey. I need to let her come to me when she is ready. 

I have stationed myself downstairs in the study, drinking and planning my lessons for the following semester. But to say I got more than one lesson plan finished would be a lie, because I keep watching the clock, counting down the hours to the day we will have to leave. I swear I will extend the trip until the day she forgives me, even if that takes fucking years. 

My phone buzzes in the drawer to the left of me, and I take it out. Seeing a message from Jacqueline, I grit my teeth, my once calm exterior bursting at the seams. 

Tell her, or I will. Simple as that. Come back, or I will ruin everything you love. Including her.

“Damn it!” I grab the entire glass bottle of scotch and throw it across the room. Glass ricochets off the wall, and a piece clips my bicep. I don't even flinch, and it isn't a light scratch. blood starts to ooze out, and I let it. 

I stand and start pacing in front of the cherry oak desk, the smell of liquor now permeating thickly in the air. 

“Xander, you're bleeding,” Lizith says from the doorway, appearing out of nowhere. I look down at the gash and see a small sliver of glass still embedded in my skin. 

“I’m fine.” I try to remove it and it burns so much, I hiss through my gritted teeth. 

“Please, Xander, let me help get it out, and I can stitch it up. I brought my first aid kit.” 

I nod, letting her leave to grab it. Why am I not shocked she came to the cabin prepared? The traits of a good physician’s assistant, I guess. 

“Sit down, right here.” She guides me to the couch next to the desk, and I sit on the edge as she sits on her knees, bringing my wound to her eye level. 

“What happened?” she asks, taking a pair of tweezers and, with great precision, removing the glass. I don’t flinch away, but my face scrunches up in discomfort. 

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” 

“Another lie.” She peers up at me with a look of pain. 

“It’s Jacqueline. She is messaging me. And it’s not a lie, I just don't want to get worked up and talk about it. I am already at my wit’s end here, Lizith.” 

She doesn't respond. Instead, she goes to work cleaning up the blood and sterilizing my arm. The first stitch goes through and I grit my teeth. This shit hurts. 

“Xander?” 

“Fuck. Yeah?” I hiss, twitching under her steady hands. 

“Did you ever plan to tell me?” 

I hesitate for a moment. Knowing she is ready to talk, I just hope this ends with us locked in a room and between silk sheets. 

“No, I didn’t. I thought about it, and so many times I almost did, but in the end, I didn't. Because it wasn't going to change anything. I love you, and I know you love me, despite how you feel right now.” 

“But those are secrets, and it says more about who you are if you are willing to hide secrets, more than what the secret itself is.” 

“Lizith. I can’t apologize enough or put into words how sorry I am that I hurt you. But I know that you were made for me. Day one, before I met you, having only seen your name on my roster, I started it as a game. But by day two, when I actually met and spoke to you, I knew I didn’t stand a chance. Day three, I knew I needed to keep you. I knew I was going to be with you, and everything before you meant nothing.” A quick moment of relief floods her eyes and she smiles bashfully. I almost reach out to touch her, but I know my little one better; she isn't completely there. 

“Start from day one, please. Tell me everything, and damn it, Xander, please do not lie anymore.” Lizith finishes then, placing a bandage over the stitches, and then she surprises me. Scooting closer, she rests her head on my thigh and practically purrs as she falls into her safe place, ready to hear the truth. 

“Okay.” I take a deep breath and tell her everything, no details left out. “When she left me for your father, I was so bitter. So angry, baby. Not because I loved her, but because I was being played. And honestly, my ego was bruised, and I am a man.” 

She nods, letting me continue without interruption. 

“At first, I planned to out her to her family, but then I knew it would be ‘he said, she said’ and a nasty game I didn't stand a chance at winning. Then a few days later, just as I was on the cusp of letting it go, my attendance roster came across my desk, and there, like a sore thumb, your last name stood out. I did some research, and sure enough, you were the daughter of Dennis Morrison, and I came up with my plan. You were eighteen, legal, and the perfect pawn to use to mess with the man who got in the way of my reputation.” I look down and see delicate tears swelling in her eyes, and I know my words are hard to hear, because they are surely hard to say. It’s as if I am swallowing nails. 

“Then you walked in, and I saw the innocence in you, but I could practically smell the crazy inside you, waiting to be released. I searched for my soul mate in the darkness and never found her, and then there you were, mine for the taking. I knew I wasn't going to let you go, even after I broke your father’s heart.” 

“What was your plan? What would you have done to hurt him?” she whispers, wiping away the lone tear that escapes. 

“I was going to let him see his perfect angel grow black wings, and then I was going to make you crazy over me. And when the moment was right, I was going to clip those wings and break your heart—send you running back to him. Then he would have known the reason his daughter had gone mad was because of me.” 

“So why didn't you?” She moves a little, lifting her head just a bit to look at me with her wide green eyes. I don’t know what she will do when this is over, but if I lose that look, it will be the end of me. I promise that. 

“I kissed you, and you whispered how afraid you were of my kiss because of how alive it made you feel. Remember that?” 

She smiles and her eyes sparkle as she whispers what she’d told me that night. “You kiss like the devil, but it’s laced with heaven, and I want to find you in the in-between, keeper mine.” 

Lizith claimed me as her keeper before I even asked her to. “That is how I knew I loved you.” 

“Xander,” she whimpers, and I move. Lifting her up, I bring her to my lap, so that her thighs bracket mine, and bury my hands in her hair. 

“You have to forgive me, little bird. I know this is hard and it may never be forgotten, but know that it isn't who we are, and I won’t let you go another day letting it define us.” 

“It’s hard. You talked about me like I was nothing. I used to feel like my very existence was because of you, Xander. I used to feel so connected, and now I feel like I am all mine again. Alone. I don't feel you here anymore.” She touches above her heart, and it’s my turn to whimper. Like a fool. 

“I’m there, more than ever, baby. I am there.” I touch her stomach and drop my forehead to hers. “You are my soul, my existence, my everything. Please don’t think you aren't in every cell inside me.” Our baby joins us as a family, and I will pull every stop I can to make her understand she has never been more wrong about anything in her life. Lizith Morrison is mine.

“Even when you left me to go back to her, I didn’t feel like I’d lost our connection. That’s why I stalked Jacqueline. Trying to find out what power she held over you, because there had to be a reason you were going back to her. Surely, you didn’t love her. The semester before I graduated, I followed her to the fertility clinic, and that’s when I applied there for an internship. As soon as I got my degree, I became Dr. Curtis’s PA, gaining access to her personal records. It killed me to think she was trying to have your baby, but at the same time, I knew something was… off. That’s why I installed the cameras, and that’s how I found out everything she was doing. Yet, through all of that, I never once felt this disconnection from you, even going eight years without allowing myself to see you.” A tear slides out the corner of her eye and travels down her cheek.

“She was going to ruin you, my love,” I confess, and she lifts her shimmering eyes to mine. “When your father left her, she came crawling back to me, and she discovered clues that made her realize that not only was I moving on, but I was moving on with one of my students. She didn’t know who it was, but if she were to find out, she had the power to completely ruin your life. Her father was your dean. I had to leave you the way I did to protect you. I couldn’t let her find out who you were, because she would have destroyed your career before you even got started. I knew how important your work was to you, how it was your way of staying connected to your mother after you lost her, your hope to one day help women who were in her same situation, unable to have babies on their own. I couldn’t let her do that, little bird.”

She stays silent, visibly absorbing everything I just relayed. And as her eyes fill with tears once more, I realize I need to distract her, pull her out of this misery. “Dance with me?” 

“Dancing won’t make this stop hurting.” She moves her hand and places it on her heart. I feel it breaking, and I am not even touching her. 

“No, but it could start the healing.” There’s a pregnant pause while she decides what to do before conceding. She stands and moves to the middle of the room, waiting for me. I move around the room, locating the Bluetooth speakers and connecting my phone. 

“Hurricane” by Thirty Seconds to Mars starts to play. “Let me lead you?” I stand in front of her now. 

“You are always leading me.” 

Another nudge to my heart, knocking it out of rhythm. “I’ll be so damn careful with your heart this time. Trust me like you always have.” 

She nods, this time without words. 

I pull her against me and make her bare feet rest atop mine. I don’t want her to step on any glass, and I want her as close as possible. The music surrounds us, and we stay quiet, our eyes searching one another’s as our souls try their damnedest to find each other again. 

“Tell me you still love me,” I beg. 

“I love you, Xander. You know that.” 

“I don’t. Because I betrayed my love, and she’s hurting beyond what my hands or words can fix. How can I gain your forgiveness?” 

“Time. Answers. I don’t know. I still have so much to ask,” she admits. 

“Ask me something else.” 

“Not yet. Give me these few minutes to just take it in. To feel you.” Lizith lays her head against me, and the music plays on. I bring my lips to her hair and take it all in. She smells like honeysuckle and grief. I can smell her regretting us, and as it travels through my senses, I know I don’t stand a chance at fixing this on my own. I might lose my little bird. 

The song ends, and the second it does, she leaves me. I watch her walk away like a ghost. I don’t go after her, because it’s the way it needs to be. Lizith has to come to terms without me to force the issue. 

When am I going to wake up from this nightmare?

I tried to put all the pieces together in my mind to reach a solution and wave a white flag of surrender, but it is still too much and I still have so many questions. 

Xander is being patient and not following me around or tying me to a bed until he gets my forgiveness, and I appreciate that. I start to think about the idea of my father and Jacqueline together, and I nearly lose my lunch. How could he go from my mother to that devil in human flesh? 

Why didn’t my father just tell me? And how come this woman is always weaseling her way into Xander’s and my relationship? Will she always insert herself back into his life? I don't want to give her victory, but she is on the very edge of succeeding, because I cannot live a life with Xander when Jacqueline is doing her best to break us apart. We are having a child, and maybe that is why my sensibility is kicking in, because I need to protect my offspring. 

Jacqueline may always hold the gauntlet of victory. 

I sit in the bathroom, looking myself over and taking in my appearance. My eyes are sunken in and my hair is a wild mess on my head. I’m makeup-free with blotchy red spots from all my crying. 

Deciding I need to make myself presentable, I work my curly hair into loose waves. I part it down the middle and let it fall like old Hollywood glam. Next, I do my makeup. My eyes are smoky and my lips red by the time I finish. Why I’m getting ready with nowhere to go as the day is drawing close to an end, I don’t know, but I need to feel human. 

“You look beautiful, my little bird.” Xander appears in the doorway. I’m all done up, except for my short silk white robe. 

“I just needed to do something. All this fighting and being locked in a house has made me stir-crazy.” 

He waits then extends an olive branch. “They came and shoveled the snow in the driveway. I can order a car and take us to dinner.” 

“Really?” I perk up, taking slight joy in his kind gesture. 

“Yes, as long as you don’t run,” he says, looking down at me. He looks larger than usual, leaning in the doorway, his shoulder against the frame and his foot crossed over the other. He looks… normal. Not his normal pristine professor persona. More like a dominant alpha dressed in simplicity. 

“I’m not eighteen anymore, Xander. I am a woman growing with child.” I tuck my neat waves behind one ear. “Besides, I still have questions.” 

“And hope?” He clings onto my confession. 

“I don’t know. I want to, but I don't know. May I get dressed now?” I sidestep him, but his hand reaches down to rest softly on my stomach, his warm palm feeling strong against the cool silk fabric on my skin. 

“Can I watch you dress? See you pick your clothes?” Most would find his request odd. But we are odd, and I don't tell him no. 

I nod, and he releases me. I drop my robe at my feet then glance over my shoulder to find him looking me up and down, over and over again. Opening the suitcase, I feel his eyes on my backside as I rummage through my new panty sets I brought for what I thought was our romantic getaway. 

I pick all lace. Black, like my wings and hair. I slide on my panties and hear him growl, but I don’t face him. I torture him longer. When I hook my bra on, I turn and stand still, popping one knee and hip, showing off my young and nearly flawless body to him. I spent years keeping my body in shape, so when we reunited, he would have a perfect little bird to praise. 

“It’s fifteen degrees outside, Lizith. You have to dress accordingly.” I watch his Adam’s apple bob. 

“I have stockings and a warm jacket. So, I should be just fine.” I pull out my all-lace black dress with a nude underlay and two cutouts just above the breasts. The neckline is like a choker, going all the way up to the underside of my chin. I slide it on. “Can you zip me please, Mr. Stine?” 

He is on me in three strides, his knuckle moving from the dip in my lower back all the way up my spine. “Punishment worked. This is killing me, baby. You're crushing me under your thumb.” He leans in and kisses the spot between my shoulder blades and I shudder. 

“Good. I plan to make it worse every second, Xander.” 

With that, he zips me up and steps away, heated and pissed—right where I want him. 

“I’m getting dressed. I will meet you downstairs.” He leaves with a huff, and I smirk and finish putting on my outfit. 

Within ten minutes, I am ready and meet him at the door. He looks good, and it makes me a little bitter. He has on his nice dark jeans and a pullover sweater with a hoodie and his black jacket. He styled his hair atop his head, and he cleaned up his growing beard, leaving a smattering of salt-and-pepper five o'clock shadow. 

“Put your coat on. The car is ready.”

I slide on my heavy black peacoat, and he silently escorts us out. We climb into the large, four-door, sleek black SUV. The driver tips his hat, and Xander gives him a location. 

“Jordan’s Steakhouse, Downtown Aspen.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

I look out the window in wonderment, watching the snow on the trees and the ground pass us by. I have never seen snow before, and even if I am still watching from closed confinements, it’s truly breathtaking. 

Xander grabs my thigh hard and drags me to him suddenly, and I lose my train of thought when I look up and see him glaring at me. 

“What is wrong with you?” I ask, trying to move his hand. 

He leans in close, his lips whispering against my ear. “You aren't paying enough attention to me, and I don't appreciate it.” 

I gawk at him, shocked that he thinks he has the right to hold all of my attention. “I’m still upset with you, Xander, so deal with it.” 

He tightens his grip and I yelp, my hand flying up to his chest as he wraps his arm around my neck and pulls my face to his. 

“Stop with the whiplash. You make me fucking crazy. One minute, you want to forgive me, and the next, you are back to treating me like you despise me,” he accuses. 

I’m about to break free from his touch, when I see sadness morphing his face. His brows crease inward and his jaw tightens. 

“Don’t look like that. It hurts,” I whisper.

“That’s because I am hurting,” he admits, and I exhale and drop my head against his. 

“We both are, and there isn't anything I can do to make that stop, Xander. So stop expecting me to forget everything.” I let him down as gently as I can, because I know the feeling of heartbreak. 

“I don’t expect you to forget everything. I expect you to just touch me or kiss me or just fucking need me.”

The driver peers back at us, and I choose to ignore him. 

“If I do that, it will make things worse.” I finally break free from him and scoot across the seat again. His hand finds my thigh immediately, and he keeps it there. Xander doesn't speak, but he breathes in and out deeply, his eyes forward and face tight. 

I let him keep his hand there, but my upper body turns away from him. We finally pull up to the restaurant, and the car is filled with palpable tension. He tips the driver and helps me out, making sure I don't slip on the ice in my heels. Walking into the swanky, upscale steakhouse, I take note of all the black and red accents that give this place a romantic vibe. Xander would pick this place in an attempt to woo me and sweep me away, but I have other plans, and they don't include me cuddling close. 

There is a wait, but of course, we are whisked away to a private booth in the corner, under a warmly lit chandelier that gives us more privacy. 

Looking over the menu, I feel his eyes boring into me, but I give no indication that I feel his wallowing all the way from here. 

“Good evening, sir, ma’am,” the waiter greets us. He is handsome, well-built at six feet tall, with wide shoulders and blue eyes behind thick lashes. He’s no Xander, but I can see him being the cup of tea for many women. 

Xander gives him a curt nod, barely acknowledging him before he looks to me. I give him a sweet smile and warm greeting. “Hello.” This gets Xander's eyes off the menu and onto the man standing just to the side of him. His eyes go dark and then he looks to me quickly, sneering and gritting his teeth at me with agitation. I ignore it and listen emphatically to the waiter’s selection of specials and options.

“We will take two medium-well 10-ounce steaks with a house salad and a side of red mashed potatoes. Water for us both. Sparkling,” Xander orders, and I rush to stop the waiter from leaving. 

“Actually, I don’t want any of that. I will have a fresh squeezed lemonade and baked salmon with brown rice and quinoa salad. Thank you, sir.” That earns me a full-on growl in front of our server, and I see his eyes go wide as Xander turns on me. 

“Yes, uh… right away.” And like a scared puppy, he scurries away and leaves me with the beast. 

“Do not act like a childish fool. I won’t tolerate it.” 

“I’m not acting. I didn't want what you ordered. You don’t have to be such a high-handed caveman all the time, Xander.” 

“It’s what you always order at steakhouses. Don’t play this game. Call another man any kind of name like ‘sir’ again and I will spank you right in front of everyone here.” 

I scoff. “You wouldn't dare.”

“Try me. Better yet, fucking test me, little bird.” 

I turn my head and curse the tears that well, doing my best to not let them surface all the way to the edge. Maybe I am in over my head. This is something I have never done before—done things to purposefully hurt or fight with my love. I’d once done something stupid to gain his attention, but I had never intentionally wounded him. This isn't like other times he hurt me. When he left to go back to Jacqueline, he did it for reasons that didn't purposely destroy me. But now I know how we met and fell in love was all a game, and I just can’t get past it. 

We don’t speak anymore. And each time the waiter comes back to us, he lets his eyes linger on me a little longer than what he should, and Xander takes notice. I opened a door I shouldn't have, and now this poor young man has no idea what kind of lion he has prowling and circling around him. 

“You like that?” he asks as we start to eat. 

“What?” I prompt after I swallow a bite of my savory salmon. 

“You teased him. You made him desire you, and now I am seconds away from laying my fist into him repeatedly.” He doesn't look at me as he says this, and he says it so nonchalantly it’s frightening. Xander has always been jealous over me. Especially when men my age take notice or grab my attention. 

I wait to respond, because I know I have to be careful with my choice of words. “As much as I would like to, I don’t. I don’t want attention from anyone.” 

Xander once again goes quiet. This seems to be the soundtrack of the past forty-eight hours together. Cat and mouse. 

As we finish up our meal, Xander’s attention is on his phone, checking emails and such. I wish I had my phone so I could distract myself. But instead, I play devil’s advocate and decide to attempt another round of talking through my recent revelation. 

“Did you love her when you and I first met?” 

Instantly, his phone becomes a lost item on the table. Without hesitation or asking for further explanation, he answers, “I never loved her. Ever.” 

“So you really did all this for revenge on her for making you look bad?” 

“My reputation is pristine, and my ego knows no bounds. You know that, Lizith,” he says matter-of-factly. “Call it one of my many character flaws.”

“I know. So I was just another way of proving how big your ego was. You knew you could conquer me, and you did.” 

“That’s how it began, but as I said, that quickly became untrue. But I’ll take that jab.” 

We remain quiet for a moment. “My mother was my best friend. The day I met you, I wanted to call her to tell her about you. It was all I wanted to do, but I couldn't, because she was gone.” He doesn't move, barely even releasing a breath as he gives me the floor. “She had this amazing laugh. It was almost breathtaking. I remember stopping everything I was doing whenever she was laughing just to listen to her, because I loved the sound of it. My father and I both were enamored by her grace and carefree ways.” 

“She’s not the only woman who could make people fall at her feet, completely smitten.” 

I don’t respond, but I feel his compliment down to my bones. It feels nice being compared to my mom. 

“She was so selfless. She did charity work and found any way she could to help others who needed it. And she was classic, timeless, beautiful. I wanted to be her.” 

“Why are you saying this, little one?” 

“Because even though I am gut-wrenchingly hurt and upset with you, I am disgusted over the fact that just a year after I lost my mother, Jacqueline was the woman my dad fell for. A vile, ruthless woman took the place next to my father where my mother stood. She was still fresh in her grave, Xander. How could he do that to her?” 

“Lust and manipulation.” 

My brows draw in when he says this, our eyes connecting. “What?” 

“I don’t want to upset you more, bird.” 

“No, say it. I didn't just tell you all that for you to harbor more secrets.” 

Xander takes a deep breath. “I never loved her. I lusted after her. When we met in college, she roped me in with lies and lust. I swear she used her body as a weapon and manifested a belief in me that she could be kind and lovable. But she was just a serpent in the bedroom, and once the preacher at our wedding closed his Bible, she changed.” 

I cringe. Knowing that sex with her was good enough to blind him into marriage makes me nauseous. 

“You would’ve had to have met my mother. If you had, you would understand. I don’t think Jacqueline at her best could touch my mother at her worst.” 

“I believe you. I do, because I am in love with her protégé. There isn't anyone or anything that could talk me out of loving you, or push me away.” 

That is no false confession. “I know.” 

“I am sorry your father and I have hurt you.” His first real apology since he told me. 

I dip my head and pick at the lace of my dress, uncaring if I snag the fabric. “Thank you.” I tuck my hair behind my ear, and in that moment, I realize this is the first time I have told him this much about my mother. 

Her Lizith seems so out of reach, like another woman from a different world. I am no longer that innocent naïve girl she once knew, but now a woman possessed by love for a man she should have never met. But I am too far gone and too much in love with Xander to keep up this charade. I can’t go another day without forgiving him and loving him. 

“Will that be all for you both this evening?” our waiter interrupts us, his eyes falling on me, smoldering and curious. He is undressing me with his eyes, and with my forgiveness just on the tip of my tongue, I do not like the way it feels. I feel as if I betrayed my love by welcoming attention to get him jealous. Now, I am filled with regret. 

“That is all. Lizith, let’s go.” Xander leaves two one-hundred-dollar bills. Doubling the amount of our actual tab. He does it as a show of power, and it fills my stomach with the soft beginnings of desire. A slow, steady burn. 

He stands and puts on his jacket as I slide gracefully from the booth and stand just to the side of him. Not wanting another second of attention from the server, I place my hand in Xander’s after we both finish putting on our coats, and I stand behind him, using him as my shield. The server stares me down as he begins to walk away, when Xander grabs him firmly by the elbow. 

“A man should know better than to fawn over a woman already so obviously claimed. You never know the lengths some men are willing to go to when they find another gawking at their woman. Run along, little boy, and pray we never cross paths again.” 

I watch as the color drains from the young man’s face, and it’s as if he tucks his tail between his legs as he breaks free from Xander and scurries away. 

Xander doesn't even look back at me as he leads us out, poised and collected as if he didn’t just dole out a threat. I officially lose my sense and become putty in my keeper’s hands.