Fragile Bonds (7 page)

Xavier stands, reaching down to help me off the ground. As soon as I’m steady on my feet, I expect him to drop my hand, but the cautious distance we’ve maintained for months is gone. In its place is a chaste love that neither of us can ignore
any more than we can the need to breathe. When he circles his arms around my chest, holding me tight against his body, it’s not what I feared I would feel if he touched me.

“I’m so sorry, Melanie,” Xavier whisper
s as he rests his cheek on top of my head. My brow creases as I fight the urge to decipher the meaning of his words. After waiting years to hear the words from him, I’m no longer certain they’re needed or wanted. For all I know, his apology is for breaking down in my presence, and if that’s the case, I might be tempted to kick him in the ass. He’s not the same man I knew back then, but his need to be an emotional pillar pisses me off as much now as it did when we were together. He
needs
to talk to someone and I’m elated that we’ve finally gotten to the point where he trusts me enough to let me be there for him.

“Without trust, there is nothing,” Xavier says, standing before me. He reaches down, tipping my head upward. “You’ve given me your trust, which is everything.
”

I can
not
keep doing this. It’s been over a month since I allowed myself time to think about what Xavier and I used to share. At that point, I decided to let go of the past completely and appreciate the man I’m getting to know now without letting our history skew my opinion of him. And now, as we’re in one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever visited, walking under a canopy of exotic trees and plants, the memories are coming back to me.

“No worries,” I say, deciding that anything else will be an invitation down a slippery slope.

Xavier grips my shoulders, turning me to face him. Thank God I’ve finally lost the reflex that caused me to go weak in the knees and stare at the ground every time he looks at me this way. Today, I’m staring directly into a sapphire torrent of pain and, if possible, it’s murkier now than it was earlier. “I do worry, Melanie. There is so much I’ve fucked up when it comes to you and I’m not sure you’ll ever know how much I regret my decisions.”

The way he’s looking at me, there’s no doubting his sincerity. It also confirms that this is a conversation we can’t be having. Not now, maybe not ever. Seeing his life as it is today is what gave me the strength to finally let go of the “what-ifs” and accept that there is a reason why we didn’t get to have our forever.

“Xavier, don’t,” I plead with him. This might be the only time I get to visit Nassau and I would prefer to enjoy my time, not worry about whether or not I’m going to leave pieces of my heart that I thought were glued back together lying in the middle of the street.

“Please, Melanie. I have to say this and we might not have another chance.” Tourists bump into us as we have a stand-off in the middle of the road. For selfish reasons, I want to keep a lid on everything I felt when he left me to cry myself to sleep, knowing I had lost him. But with everything he’s going through, this is what he wants to talk about. I get the impression he truly does need to clear the air between us for his own peace of mind.

I close my eyes, bracing myself for whatever it is that he has to say. Rather than continue blocking the path that is getting more congested with every passing moment, I lead him to a small café down the street. This way, we can hopefully find a quiet corner to call our own while we say whatever needs to be said.

“Look Xavier, we were both different people back then. And I’m sorry that I broke your trust.” Of all the thoughts that held my mind captive in the weeks and months after I moved out of the house, it’s the ones where he emphasized the importance of us being able to trust that stuck with me the longest. “I know now that it was an immature decision and that I
could
have told you what I was feeling.”

My hope is that if I tell him these things, he won’t need to reopen the wounds that have healed. “And
please
don’t regret anything. If we hadn’t gone our separate ways, you wouldn’t have Jacob in your life today. And even when you’re uncertain of your parenting skills, I see how much you love him. You wouldn’t trade him for the world.”

The pain on his face softens as he takes in my words. The corner of his mouth quirks up as he subtly nods his agreement. “True, but that doesn’t change the fact that I overreacted that night.”

There’s the understatement of the century. It’s the one fact that allowed me to turn my grief to anger for so long. While I fully own the fact that I lied to him, I’ve never understood why telling him I was going to stay home and then going out for the night was enough for him to abandon me.

No, you will
not
go there again.

“Xavier…” This time, I’m not sure I have anything to say to him. Agreeing won’t make him feel any better. And I can’t dispute what he said because he’s right. “What’s done is done. While I appreciate the apology, you can’t beat yourself up for what you did or didn’t do.”

“You’re right,” he agrees, taking a sip of his coffee. The waiter delivers sandwiches that I’m almost certain are going to remain untouched. Well, he might be able to eat, but I’ve lost my appetite at this point. “But there is one thing I need to know.”

I cock my head to the side, unsure why he sounds nervous now. As I study him, he straightens the silverware in front of him over and over, sometimes only moving the knife or fork a millimeter. “What’s that?” I ask uncertainly. The awkwardness between us seems to be slithering its way back into the room.

“Why did you disappear?” he asks, his face once again pained. But this time, the sadness is because of something he thinks I did. Which is ludicrous because I became a hermit, never leaving home unless I was at class because I didn’t want to miss his call.

“What are you talking about? You knew where to find me
and you never bothered calling,” I say bitterly. I curl my toes tightly in my sandals, praying I will be able to keep him from seeing how agitated his accusation has me. Of all the places I anticipated this conversation heading, him telling me that I disappeared
on him
didn’t even hit my radar.

“That night, I
told
you that I needed time to think,” he reminds me. The tick in his jaw indicates that we’re dangerously close to this discussion escalating to an argument. “What did you think I meant by that? When I realized what I had done, I tried calling you, but every time, Stacey told me you didn’t want to talk to me.”

This makes no sense. I
never
told her that. In fact, I cried every single day because he
hadn’t
called. She knew how badly I wanted to have one last chance to talk to him. To find out how he could throw what we had away so easily.

“If she said that, I’m sorry. Xavier, you have to know how hard it was for me after you said goodbye. I thought we were going to be together forever. That’s what you said the day you handed me the keys to the house. That it was our
forever home.
” I swallow the lump in my throat that’s making it hard to breathe, much less continue speaking. “And then there was the letter--”

“What letter?” he asks, completely sailing past upset to utterly
pissed off. Until this very moment, I have never doubted the authenticity of the letter I found sitting on my kitchen table about a month after he left me. I read it so many times that the paper was soft from my gripping it tightly, the ink blurred by my tears.

“I came home from school one day and there was a letter from you at the apartment,” I say, carefully watching his reaction. He shakes his head, his mouth hanging slightly open
as blinks rapidly, trying to figure out what I’m talking about. It’s this reaction, combined with the knowledge that my so-called best friend was intercepting his calls that causes me to bury my head in my hands. “You didn’t write that letter, did you?”

I ask the question more for confirmation than anything else
. It was common knowledge that Stacey didn’t care for him, but I never would have thought that she would have stooped so low as to actively work to keep us from reconciling. Anything I felt when we started talking has been replaced by the sinking feeling of betrayal. I wish I was back home so I could call her and ask her
why
she felt the need to do this to me.

Xavier shakes his head again, reaching across the table for me. His thumb gently strokes the back of my hand as he speaks. “Melanie, I would
never
put words on paper that needed to be said to your face. How could you possibly think it was from me?”

Something that feels awfully close to shame fills my entire body. “I don’t know, I guess I let myself believe it because you cut me so deep that night.
And there were things in there that I thought were between us.” There’s only one person who knew some of the little things Xavier said to me over the course of our relationship. No matter how happy I am that Xavier has a good life now, I will
never
forgive her for this. He was my everything and Stacey is the one who took that away from me.

I watch as Xavier slides his chair so he’s sitting closer to me at the small wrought iron table. “How could you think I would be so heartless?” I can’t bring myself to look at him to see if his eyes are filled with the sadness I hear in his voice. “Melanie, I loved you so much. That night, I was so mad at you. It wasn’t that you went to that party, although I’m not sure I will ever understand why you thought it was okay to go to a party
themed around open nudity and public sex without me. It was the fact that you weren’t talking to me. When you said you needed to prove to yourself that you were still your own person, I think I hated myself more than anything.”

I make no effort to stop the tears rolling down my cheeks. Every wound has been sliced open once again. I stare out the window of the café but I don’t see anything. For the
first time since I came out of the post-Xavier darkness, there’s an unbearable emptiness in my soul. Everything I thought I knew about his leaving is a lie. And now that I know the truth, there’s not a single thing I can do about it because he has moved on with his life while I’ve buried myself with my career, saying I didn’t need anything else.

“Say something,” Xavier begs. I purse my lips, trying to calm down before I speak.
“Melanie, please tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I think I’m going to head back to the ship,” I say, standing. The moment I’m outside, I take off at a sprint, praying I can lose myself on one of the decks before he can catch up to me. The tears come faster and harder with every step I take. I can barely breathe but I can’t stop. I have to keeping running. I have to be somewhere far, far away from Xavier right now or I might say something I can’t take back. The worst case scenario being that I would tell him that I lied to myself. I’ve been lying for six years, every time I’ve said I don’t love him anymore.

If not for the fact that Melanie’s outfit from this morning is laying on her bunk when I get back to the ship, I would be worried that she hadn’t made it back. I swear I’ve searched every corner of this damn boat looking for her, but she’s nowhere to be found. I’m wondering if it was a mistake to try to apologize to her this morning. Had I known how much pain it would cause both of us, I would have taken my regrets to the grave.

On top of that, I can’t deny the fact that I still feel something for the woman. While it’s not the same as what I share with Alyssa, today made me see that I definitely love Melanie. What type of low-life asshole does that make me? I’m on the last trip
my wife
will ever get to take, in one of the most beautiful places on Earth, and I’ve been slapped in the face by my past. I’m walking to dinner with Alyssa and Jacob, but the only thing I can think about is watching Melanie run from me.

I wante
d to chase after her and beg her to tell me what she was thinking but I couldn’t. The time may come when we revisit the topic, but it’s unfair to both women for me to press Melanie to admit what she may or may not feel for me. At the same time, we were robbed of closure six years ago and it would be nice to have that now.

“Xavier, are you okay?” Alyssa asks, running her delicate hand down my arm. I look down at her, noticing how tired she looks today. I swear she’s lost so much weight now that I can
see every single bone that’s not covered by her pink tank top and khaki shorts. Once I gave her my heart, I promised Alyssa there would be no more secrets, no lies. Now, I’m keeping one of the biggest secrets, avoiding her questions so I’m not forced to openly lie to her. And as much as I tell myself it’s to spare her the pain she doesn’t deserve to be burdened with, I know it’s to assuage my own guilt for allowing Melanie to come back into our lives.

“I’ll be fine,” I tell her, giving her a rigid smile. From the look in her light green eyes, I know I’m not fooling her. “It was just a long day.”

“Okay.” Despite her answer, I’m not foolish enough to think she’s accepting my excuse. I close my eyes, berating myself for letting this happen. “Where’s Melanie? Did the two of you have fun today?”

If you call running both of our hearts through a meat grin
der, sure we had fun. If you call realizing that you love someone from your past while still being completely in love and devoted to your wife fun, yep, it was a blast
.

“It was good. Would have been better if you were there,” I say, this time giving her a sincere smile. As we walk through the corridor, all three of us holding hands, I vow to give Alyssa and Jacob one hundred percent of myself each and every day. When we get home, I’m going to put in a request for family leave time so I don’t miss a moment.