Page 56 of Xavier

He just stands there, hand print on his face growing redder by the second. I can't read his eyes, but there's a look of contempt I never thought I'd see in them. And I say what I should've from the start.

"We shouldn't have done this. We can't be in each other's lives. Goodbye, Xavier."

I spin around before the twisting in my stomach makes it too hard.

But before I can walk away, there's a hand on my wrist, pulling me back.

"Do you think this is easy for me? Seeing you. With him? With anyone?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I spent twelve years, TWELVE fucking years looking for you, Malynda. Not knowing what happened to you, to us. Using every resource at my disposal to find you. Not even really knowing if you were alive. It got to a point I hoped that you'd fallen in love with someone and were living your dream of being a dancer in Europe somewhere. And then, after all this time, I find out, you've been right on my doorstep this whole time. You just changed your name, been living it up on the upper east side with your businessman, and what? Playing dollhouse for fun? What happened to dancing? What happened to your dream? What happened to you?!"

There's a crowd building around us, but I don't care. I can barely see out of my blurry eyes to focus on his face.

"You... you don't know me, Xavier. You knew me for one summer, twelve years ago. You don't know what I've been through. You don't know what got me here. So don't you lecture me about my life. I'm not the only one that's living it up on the upper east side as you put it, playing dollhouse in your penthouse. Maybe I should ask you what got you there. Last I heard helping the poor didn’t put you in designer suits. All this tells me is, our past is just that, in the past. We have no present, and definitely no future."

I stare at him, daring him to respond. I don't know what to expect, don't know what I want him to say. Just that, for all my bravado, I don't have the strength to be the one to walk away.

"Malynda," he finally says, in a sigh as long as the day. His eyes still on mine, he reaches out slowly, taking my hand in his. I ignore the way my fingers twitch instantly at his touch. "I'm sorry. You're right. I don't know what's brought you here. But I want to know. Don't you understand that? Don't you get what it’s been like for me all this time?’

Any contempt we felt in the heated moment is gone. All that's left in his eyes are questions. That he's hoping he can get answers to from me. But I have none. Nothing that can help him. It's better to wonder sometimes. He doesn’t know, I'm holding back for his sake.

"I'm sorry too, Xave. I don't... I can't give you the answers you're looking for."

He lets go of my hand, and it drops to my side. I look down at the ground, grey pavement worn down by countless footsteps of countless New Yorkers.

"Fine. If that’s the way you feel, I’m not going to pressure you about it today. But you're wrong about one thing. We can. We can be in each other's lives."

I open my mouth to protest but he stops it with a look.

"We can. I will try to make it easier for you to be around me. Okay? I'd rather have you in my life, giving me grumpy looks and scolding me every few minutes for pushing you too far, than not at all."

I roll my eyes, and a little of the tension in the air dissipates. The truth is, I can't imagine him not being a part of my life, now that he's back in it. However wrong it might be.

"You deserve the scoldings,” I say, accusingly.

He bows low, with a flourish of his arm. "I will accept them obediently, ma'am."

I snort, louder than I mean to, and it makes him grin. That fucking grin. Where did he learn to do that?

"Friends?" he says, holding out his hand.

I take it, my hand feeling delicate but safe in his. We shake.

"Friends."

"With benef-.."

"XAVIER!"

"Just testing the scolding feature. It works," he chuckles.

He's still holding my hand and I give it a squeeze and then pull it back.

"I can't talk about the past, Xavier. I need you to understand that, if we're going to be friends."

He nods, his lips tightening for a split second, like he's holding back the barrage of questions I know he has. But he doesn't say anything more.