“Sorry, but it’s the truth. I didn’t like him, Roo. And he didn’t like me.”
“That’s—”
I hold up my hand. “Please don’t bother. He didn’t like me. He didn’t like responsibility, and he resented me. I might have been young, but I wasn’t stupid or a masochist. I found him petulant, childish, and selfish. Why on earth would I have wasted time on that person when the only thing that connected us was an involuntary emission of sperm?”
He stares at me for a few moments. Then his body seems to fold in on itself and he staggers to a nearby stile and sits on it. “Shit. I wish I’d known.”
“Would it have made a difference?”
He looks up, struck at the calmness of my tone. After a few beats, he shakes his head. “No, I would still have finished it.”
“Because of what you were going through? The PTSD.”
He hesitates and then nods. “Yes. I was a mess, and I couldn’t inflict that on you. You were at the start of your life, and I felt so old, like I was at the end.” I wince, and he offers me a sad smile. “But if I’d known how things truly were between you and Jez, how you felt about him, I wouldn’t have ended it the way I did.”
“Grey told me what happened.”
“I’ve always hated what happened in that hotel room. Between the three of us.”
“Why did it? Why did you say those things to me?”
His face spasms. “I am so sorry, Xavi. You were everything to me, and I deliberately made you feel like nothing. I didn’t mean any of it. Not one word,” he says with emphasis, looking at me until I feel my shoulders relax. Something unwinds inside me that has been tight for so long. He takes a breath. “I knew I had to push you away. I didn’t want to be the cause of you losing something as important as a parent.”
“That wasn’t solely your choice to make, though, was it?”
“No,” he says softly. “I know that now. But sometimes life decisions come down to chance moments. After that funeral I was a bloody, muddled mess. When you walked in on me andGrey, I thought I saw a clear choice to end things quickly and do it in a way that might cause less pain in the future. But if you hadn’t arrived at that moment, I might’ve made a different choice.”
That startles me. “Really?”
He nods. “I told myself I could let you go, but the truth is that I’ve never ever been able to do that with you.” His mouth quirks. “Don’t look so happy.”
I smile. I am happy because it feels like he just removed a bruise from me that no one could see. “I thought it was easy, and you never looked back.”
“Shit, Xavi. There hasn’t been a moment between then and now that Ihaven’tbeen looking back.” I shake my head, and he adds, “And I honestly still think it was the right decision.”
“We’ll never know, will we?”
His eyes fill with regret, and I hate it. I’ve spent years wanting him to feel that way, and now he does, I can’t bear it. Life can be very strange.
“No,” he says steadily. “And I know you can’t forgive me for that.”
I walk over and sit next to him on the stile. His body is warm against mine, and I shiver a little in the sudden breeze. The sun has vanished now, and it’s turning cooler. He watches me, his eyes kind and steady, and I know this is down to me. Reuben has never made me do anything—just said his piece and waited. I realise now that he’s always been waiting for me.
“Of course I forgive you,” I say simply.
His mouth drops open. “What? That can’t be true.”
I shrug. “But it is.”
He lifts his hand tentatively and cups my face. His fingers are shaking and my heart twists at his uncertainty. I lean into him and close my eyes for a second, savouring the touch of his skin on mine. When he lets go, my body feels cold without him.
“Since when did you forgive me?” he asks hoarsely. “You hated me.”
“I’d stopped hating you a long while before today. All I knew was that I missed you. It’s as simple as that.” He gives a shaky sigh, and I carry on forcing the words out because we must be honest with each other now. “I hate that you didn’t talk to me and didn’t trust what we had, but I still understand why you did it. You’re right. I was so young, and you were suffering. We were flash and fire, and maybe that would have burnt out anyway.”
“Do you believe that?”
I give a humourless laugh. “No, I don’t. I think we’d have lasted.”
