Page 61 of True Abandon

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!”