“Why?” I whisper, my voice shaky as we confess years of secrets. Ones I don’t know if I’m ready for, but I have to find out. I came here to do that, and I’m not leaving without the answers I need.
“What do you mean why? Why I couldn’t have you?”
I nod slowly as I try to pick up on what I’m missing.
“Clara.” His voice is strained as he steps toward me—broken. A usually strong man, but the Dax before me is shattered and vulnerable. “You were going away to college. Far away. You wanted more than what Sunnyville had to offer you back then. I couldn’t leave. I was eighteen and Willow’s sole caregiver. Our only other living relative at the time was our grandfather, and he was in a nursing home because he couldn’t take care of himself, let alone two teens. I couldn’t leave her.”
“I could’ve stayed had I known—”
“I didn’t want that for you.”
“It wasn’t for you to decide!” My outburst shocks us both.
He opens and closes his mouth, staring back at me.
I choke on my sobs as we watch each other, unblinking, trying desperately to make sense of a past that both of us experienced in very different ways.
“What then, Clara?” he asks, his voice weak. “What then? You stayed here, went to college nearby, moved in with me, and we lived happily ever after?”
His sarcasm makes me clench my fists. “I could’ve helped you through it. With Willow. With medical school. You didn’t have to be alone.”
“It wasn’t your path. It was mine, and I had to handle it without dragging you down with me.” He clenches his jaw, his face reddening, as he seemingly tries to find the right words—the words I have a sinking feeling will crush me once he says them. “Willow wasn’t… she had a lot of health issues, including mental ones. It wasn’t just making sure I took her to doctors’ and physical therapy appointments. To remind her to take her meds. To help her during those first few years until she became stronger and more self-sufficient.”
I gulp, noticing the darkness take over his whole demeanor like a curtain’s been pulled. Like we’re entering into another act of this sad drama.
It’s clear we’re not talking about me or us anymore.
“It was about being there for her through the therapy, through the agonizing pain when she couldn’t sleep through the night. Through her cutting. She was a teenager going through normal teenage phases, but she also had to deal with losing her parents and not being able to walk ever again. She had to deal with her moody teenage brother who was grieving and broke.” He swallows, his frown prominent. “She had the burden of her brother who didn’t always handle any of it well.”
“Dax, I didn’t know any of this. You never mentioned this. I wish I would’ve known. I could’ve helped.” I feel small. Heartbroken. I’m close to crumbling for both Dax and Willow, but I keep it together because Dax needs me.
For once, he needs me, and for once, I can be here for him.
“It’s not exactly easy to talk about—admitting that I was failing as a brother and guardian. That I had a lot of dark days myself.”
“You were only eighteen. Give yourself a break.”
He pauses, his demeanor shifting. “When I talked to you, you were my one hope. My happy. Even when you told me you met someone.”
A sob escapes me. That must’ve hurt him. He hurt so much because of me.
The realization is numbing, yet excruciating.
“I wanted you to be happy. A marriage and family would make you happy, and I couldn’t give you those. Not then. And if you were going to be with me, I wanted to be able to give you everything you deserved.” He holds my hands in his, placing them over his chest, where I can feel his wildly beating heart.
Thump, thump, thump.
My breath hitches, and the tears continue to fall. The humming of his air conditioner is the only other sound until he says, “I wanted to tell you. So many times, I wanted to beg you to come back to Sunnyville and be with me. But my life felt like it was ending back then, and yours was just beginning. How could I ask you to give it all up?”
He rests his forehead to mine and closes his eyes. I close mine too, my chest aching.
“I loved you too much to keep you,” he whispers, and my heart shatters even more, leaving a sour taste in my mouth over what could’ve been between us.
I don’t regret marrying Mitch. We had a good marriage and life. He gave me Jacob and completed our family in ways I never imagined.
But Dax…
The pain.
Anguish.
Love.
I’m devastated for the eighteen-year-old boy with wild hopes and dreams, lost and broken.
I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. The crushing blow of his truth settles in my chest like a meteor crashing to earth, creating a large crater there. Heaving, I take his face in my hands, delicately rubbing my thumbs over his cheeks.
He’s all man.
A new man, one I haven’t known for years.
His previously clouded eyes clear. Slowly. Hesitantly.
I watch him as I lean forward, my lips touching his in a sensual kiss, soft and pleading. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against him, and our pants grow louder and faster.
The morning sun shines through cracks in his blinds—a new day. New secrets uncovered. New hope for us.
The tension in the air swirls around us, and the fog of the last few years clears.
He parts my lips with his tongue.
He snakes his hand up my back, then firmly cups my breast.
I move us backward toward the couch, his feet move in sync with mine, and our kisses grow more and more aggressive.
He twists my nipple over my shirt, making me jerk. He makes me needy.
I push him to sit, and I climb onto him. Straddling him, I dive my tongue into his mouth, taking over. With shaking hands, I work his shirt open, and we watch each button pop.
Pop.
Pop.
My heart thumps along with it, steadily, happily.
I run my hands under shirt, over his bare chest. His breaths are labored, and my hands rise and fall with each of his inhales.
I move my fingers down his abs.
Down to his belt buckle.
My fingers tremble, fumbling with his belt, frantic to remove his pants.
To feel Dax inside me like I did the first time.
But I want to take my time with him. This is different. Unlike last time, I know where he stands. I know what this means, and every kiss has a whole new significance.
I relish in his warm touch.
His hands grazing down my sides to cup my ass.
He swallows my gasp with a kiss, and I fight with his zipper, my body buzzing with anticipation that we’re about to do this again. In his home.
Swiping my hair from my face to get a good look at him, I smile. This will forever be my favorite image of him.
“What?” he pants.
“Just taking a mental picture.”
“I don’t think the flash went off.” He smirks, and my heart soars that he just made a Friends reference.
That he’s still my friend, but there’s more to us now. It’s special and intoxicating. A thrilling promise for our future.
“I need these off. Now.” I tug on his pants, and he quickly helps me roll them down.
The belt lands on the carpet with a soft clink, his pants falling to his ankles.