“Here?” I asked, knowing my stay of execution was over. As much as I’d blocked off my heart, my head, everything that had to do with him, I was about to have to listen to him make stupid fucking excuses for shredding me.
“Maybe somewhere a little more private?” he asked, motioning to a side of the ruins currently unoccupied by our class.
He checked back at least five times to make sure I was following him as we crossed the small distance, passing a giant Buddha, who looked so peaceful. I envied him that.
“Okay,” Landon said and took a deep breath. His mouth opened and closed a couple times while we stood there, eyes locked. “God, I had this all planned out, and now it’s all just…gone. I’d almost forgotten the effect you have on me.”
“Had,” I corrected, wrapping my arms around my stomach. “Everything about us is past tense.”
“I know I hurt you,” he said softly.
“You did,” I agreed, trying to block out the imagery those words brought up—the tears, the devastation, the groveling to get some semblance of my life back.
He rested his hands on top of his head, the tattoos on his arms rippling with the motion. For a brief moment I wondered if he still had it, the one token we’d given each other…the one I’d immediately altered. “I don’t think there’s anything I can say to take back what happened with us.”
“There’s not.” That sounded strong. Good. Keep it up.
“For fuck’s sake, Rachel. Could you make this just a little easier? I’ve been trying for a week to get you alone—to get you to listen to me.”
“Why?” I asked. That familiar ache rose, a burning acid in my throat—the hurt I’d worked to lock away. Why couldn’t he just leave me alone? Why did he have to chip away at the wall I’d struggled to build? Couldn’t he see how hard this was for me?
“Because I want you to understand,” he pleaded.
“Why is it so important to you? It’s been years. Years, and you never once tried to contact me to explain. Hell, I’m only here now because Wilder arranged it—not because you had some crisis of conscience or change of heart.” Because if he’d come back once—hell, even called or sent a freaking carrier pigeon—I would have melted. But there was zero chance in hell I was going to give him some kind of convenient absolution just because he didn’t want things to be awkward.
I could handle awkward. I couldn’t deal with heartbroken again.
“You’re right. I have a shit ton to apologize for. I left you. I chose the Renegades because if I didn’t, they would have lost the sponsors they needed to put on the Renegade Open that day. We were a package deal, and the sponsors threatened to pull out unless I came back. That would have left Pax, Penna, and Nick covering over two million dollars in prize money, plus the vendors that hadn’t been paid yet—all because I walked away. I made a split-second decision when Penna called because, though we’d already fucked over Pax’s heart, I couldn’t do the same to his career—my career, my family. So I tried to do what I thought was the right thing.”
“Right for everyone but me.” His explanation served up a fresh slice of pain. They’d all been so happy up there on that television screen while my world had slipped out from under me.
Never again. It didn’t matter how sincere he sounded, or how much regret shone from those gorgeous eyes of his, my heart couldn’t afford to go through that again. I wouldn’t survive it intact.
“Yes. I was a stupid fucking kid. I didn’t understand that what we had was something that doesn’t come along twice. I didn’t know enough about life—about love—to comprehend what I was doing. I. Was. Stupid. And I’m so sorry, Rach. I don’t expect you to forgive me—”
“That’s seriously the best you have?”
“What?” He blinked.
My chest burned with a tight pressure that made it nearly impossible to breathe. I sucked in a breath slowly while I debated the merits of walking away. No. This was something that had to be said. “You destroyed me, and the best you have is that you’re sorry, you were a stupid kid?”
He pressed his lips in a firm line. “What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping for alien abduction. Body snatchers, the donation of a kidney to a dying girl. Something, anything that would excuse what you did—that would give me a reason to stand here and listen to your bullshit.” How could that be all there was? How pathetic was I for even wanting an excuse that could justify his actions in my eyes? I was already slipping.
“How many times can I say I’m sorry? I’ll say it a thousand times.”
“Right. Okay. Let me start with the hours I spent in the ER, waiting for you to answer my text. Then we’ll move on to tucking my tail between my legs and going back to my parents, who, if you’ll remember, pretty much disowned me when I turned down Dartmouth to go live with you in the apartment that…oh, wait, that’s right—the apartment I had to liquidate my savings for so I could pay the deposit when you didn’t show up to sign the lease. I should have known then, but I was so naive. So stupid.”
“God, Rachel.” His shoulders fell.
It wasn’t enough. Maybe it was wrong, but for just that moment, I wanted to peel myself open and show him the scars he’d left on my heart. I needed him to know.