“Jamie... I don’t understand.” I dig my fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck, anchoring her to me. “You didn’t even want to be there.”
“Says who? When did I ever say I didn’t want to be there?” I push. “Because I guarantee you never heard me say that. I wanted to be there, Ashton. I’ve always wanted to be there.”
She opens her mouth to answer but closes it just as quickly.
“Watching you dance?—”
“You haven’t watched me dance in years, Jamie.” Anger bubbles beneath her surface, threatening to boil over, leaving me no choice.
Go big or go home, right?
Guess it’s time to go big.
“You were the Sugar Plum Fairy last year inThe Nutcracker,” I tell her, remembering how beautiful she looked. “I think I’ve seen that one more than any other. How many times have you danced that, beautiful? Five times? Six? Is that your favorite role?” I push.
“What?” she stumbles over the word. “How?”
“I was there.” She closes her eyes, struggling to accept what I’m telling her, but deep down, I think she knows the truth. “I’ve always been there. Even when you didn’t want me there.”
Even when no one but me knew I was there.
“Jamie . . .”
“You look like you’re home when you’re on a stage. Any stage, apparently, because even down here, you get this look on your face. Like this is where you were made to be. This is your church.”
“I don’t go to church.” Her words are whispered, but the snark is there. The sarcasm she just can’t help. Her defense mechanism, protecting her like always.
“I don’t mean literally, Ace. My family has always said football isourchurch. The temple at which we worship. We’remost at home on a field, suited up with a ball in our hands and the goal in our hearts.”
A timid, teary-eyed smile tugs at her pretty lips. “And what’s that goal?”
“To win.” Kinda like now. “I don’t back down when I want something, Ace. I’ve only ever done it once, and I’ve battled that decision every day of my entire adult life. But it’s really hard to battle a ghost.”
Ashton sucks in a breath as some small level of realization must dawn, but she doesn’t stop me. Not this time.
“It’s hard to live with regret. It makes you say and do things you wouldn’t normally do.” I stroke her cheek, wondering if things had been different where we’d be now. Where we’d all be. “Regret can look like hate, but it isn’t. It’s blame, and the blame isn’t yours, beautiful. It’s mine.”
“Jamie . . .” A sob catches in her throat.
“I never hated you, Ashton. I hated myself.” Fuck if that’s not the most painful thing I’ve ever had to admit. The memories are enough to bring me to my knees, even now.
“Why?” The single word is a plea, falling from her lips. For an explanation I’ve never given. For the kind of honesty that strips you bare and leaves you open and vulnerable. Two things I’ve never been good at. “Tell me why.”
She knows.
She’s always known.
The reason I hate myself is the same reason she’s hated me all these years.
“Because I walked away,” I admit, my hands holding her close as she tries to tug away. “Because I walked away from you when you needed me most. Because I might have been there, with you and Evan the night he died, but I wasn’t there for you after.”
ASHTON
Everything worth anything has the potential to break your heart.
If you only protect yourself from pain, you’re protecting yourself from love too.
It’s time to decide if it’s worth it.
