Page 62 of True Abandon

“Why aren’t you a reporter? It’s not because of the tape. The girl I fell in love with would have done anything to follow her dream. You got scared, and you ran from your dream.”

“Shut up!”

“Those failed relationships? Why didn’t any of them work?” I search my brain, thinking back to the guys I’ve dated since Jax. The reasons for each allude me. Doesn’t matter, he has an answer ready. “Because they’re not me.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Then why are you still wearing my necklace?”

I fumble with the pendant that’s now out of my shirt and resting against my clavicle. I run my thumb over the rose and feel the sharp edges.

Jax takes a step forward. “I saw it in the hospital, and I saw it the other day in my hotel room. That’s why I’m here, Trish. Because despite the pain, I know you still believe.”

I close my eyes. My jaw trembles and my heart is about to burst. “Believe what?”

“That I’m not the devil you’ve made me out to be. It’s not me that you don’t trust. It’s you. You loved me, Trish. And I loved you. It was real.”

The tears. The burning, hot tears now cascading down my face in an uncontrollable current I can’t hold back.

“You can’t do this!” I cry. “You can’t come here nine years later and pretend you know me. You can’t stand here and say you’re sorry and expect me to drop to my knees.” I clench my teeth and ask him the question I’ve been dying to ask him every day since I left Virginia. “Why didn’t you come after me? If you loved me, why didn’t you fight for me to hear your side?”

His mouth opens in shock. It must be the one question he doesn’t have the answer to.

He pulls on his hair, more gently this time. His face is wet with the tears he spilled. He’s still gripping the pole of the sail as he looks out in the water. “You don’t believe it, but I did try to talk to you. Your father wouldn’t let me, and neither would mine. I went back to school and found myself lost. I was just like you are now. For years, I told myself I wasn’t good enough to be a lawyer because I was the asshole who betrayed you. I dropped out of school. I drank myself into an oblivion and did stupid shit like land in a hospital in New York. I’ve been punishing myself. But I’m done, Trish. And it’s time you are, too. We need to stop doing this and move on. We deserve happiness.”

I close my eyes and swallow down my tears. With a clenched fist, I listen to the breeze as it hits the sail. There’s a soothing heat that builds from behind me as the sun pours down on me, bathing me in its energy.

As much as I hate everything he just said, I can’t deny one thing.

He’s right.

For years, I’ve used what he’s done to me as an excuse. Yes, I was hurt, but I should never have let it define me. Every guy I’ve dated, every chance at true intimacy was sabotaged. I’ve come close to getting the positions I wanted, but my fear of failure was masked by the story of my past I kept in my head. At the forefront, ready to be used at any given time.

I’m still holding onto the necklace. The rose is practically indented into my thumb. I unclench my hand and raise it up to unclasp the necklace.

With the rose in my hand, the chain dangling from my fingertips, I look at it one last time. “You’re right. About all of it,” I whisper. “I did love you. And now it’s over.” With one final tear, I throw the necklace overboard and say goodbye to nine years of holding on.

Jax’s eyes are trained on the spot where I threw the necklace. His brows are curved down, and his mouth is pursed. His hand rises to his cheek and wipes the spots under his eyes. He takes a deep breath and just stares.

I go back to looking out into the coral reef and the place where we finally say goodbye to our past.

I hear a splash and see Jax has jumped into the water. He swims to the front of the boat and starts pulling us back to shore.

Chapter THIRTEEN

“You seem distracted,” Kelli’s words temporarily snap me out of my thoughts.

I blink and stare at her standing in our kitchen, stirring a glass of iced tea.

“Just thinking about something that happened today at work.” I pick up my dinner plate and walk it over to the counter. I only took a few bites of my burrito before I lost myself in thought. Knowing I won’t finish it, I wrap it up and toss it in the fridge.

When I return, I startle at the fact that someone now occupies my seat. A man with a baldhead and no shirt sits at our table pouring himself a bowl of cereal.

“Hey,” he says nonchalantly.

“Trish, this is Roland.” Kelli walks over and takes a seat on his jean-clad knee. His arm slings around her waist as he takes a bite of honey oats.

“Let me guess. Your four o’clock?” I say.