“I was steadfast,” he protests. “I waited.”
“Waiting isn’t the same as being there,” I bite out.
“Isn’t it?”
For the first time, the bitterness boils out; there’s no stemming it. “You could have hired someone to start the search for Sasha. Stayed for my trial. Once it was over, we could’ve gone together. You chose to leave me while I was locked up.
“I said all the right things, but the truth is, I blame you. Once again, you chose somebody else over me. It was my fault I wound up there, I get it…and you wanted to disassociate if the worst came to pass—”
“That’s not true. I didn’t lie when I said I couldn’t bear it, Jax. The whole time, I remembered how it was when I thought you were dead. Remember how I wired Farwan headquarters to blow?”
I nod, eyes fixed on his taut features.
“That’s how it was. I had the monster on a thin chain on New Terra. The longer I stayed, the more it strained. I stopped caring about due process. I only cared that somebody was keeping you from me, and I wanted to kill them all.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and the beast gazes out from his eyes. “If I’d stayed, I would have.”
“I thought Mair cured you.”
He laughs, and it’s a wild, hopeless sound. “She put barriers in place. She roused my empathy. But there is no cure for what I was, Jax. I fell into the pit again, after Lachion, after so much death and darkness. It’s always, always in me. I thought you sensed it. Thought that was the reason you never committed to me—because you recognize the bomb in my head.”
“But Sasha…raising him has changed you.”
“I’ve got more rope for the creature now to keep it bound, more boxes and chains to force it down. But it is never gone.”
“Why did you stay on Lachion?” I ask then. “Was it as simple as you claimed? You owed Mair a debt for saving you?”
He forces out a shaky breath, and I see that his fingers, when he runs them through his disheveled hair, are unsteady. “I’d like to say yes, unequivocally. But now, viewed through the lens of hindsight, I think it was partly that and partly fear. I was afraid you were dying…and you turned aside so easily. You shut me out.”
“So that’s where it started,” I whisper.
The problems between us began with me. I feared being helpless, dependent on him—needing him too much. Here we are, so many turns later, afraid of needing each other at all. My skittish nature broke so many things, and I didn’t even know it at the time. But I’d just lost a lover, and I was afraid of taking another wound.
“I’m sorry. That came from fear and insecurity. I suspect…we fell in love too soon.”
I don’t say what he’s doubtless thinking—that I wasn’t over Kai completely—and our timing sucks. It always has.
He laces his hands together. I can tell it’s an effort for March to stay out of my head, not to check what’s on my mind. It’s hard for him not to reach for me. I’d feel better in his arms, but physical contact can’t solve our underlying problems. Without communication, our relationship will become what he fears it already has—just two compatible sexual partners who know how to push each other’s buttons.
He sighs. “I shouldn’t have pushed. I should’ve shown I’d be there for you, no matter what. Instead, your rejection on Emry was in my head when I decided to stay on Lachion.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” I’ve aired my grievances. So has he. Beyond that, there’s no benefit in dissecting past mistakes. Our course has carried us to this point. It only remains to be seen where we go from here.
“Is there anything left between us?” he asks. “Anything but sex? You love someone else now. I feel it.”
“I already told you—”
“Vel doesn’t want to be the center of your world. Yet that doesn’t change how you feel about him.”
“Yes, I love him. But he’s not my lover.”
“Do you wish he was?”
It should be a ridiculous question, but with the gravity of his face, I can’t laugh. I shake my head. “No. March, if there were nothing between us, I wouldn’t hurt so much. I wouldn’t cry over you or wonder how it’s gone so wrong.”
“This is the worst possible time with the war and all, but…can we start over? I want to be the man you need. I can’t change the choices I’ve made—”
“Neither can I.”
“But we can decide to let the past go. Begin again.”
Can we? I don’t know if it’s that easy. How do you forget the wounds that burn in your heart like hot coals? I don’t have a choice, though. I agree to wipe the slate clean, or it ends between us, here and now. Am I ready for that? Can I bear it?
CHAPTER 28
The answer, when it comes to me, offers immense comfort. “I can if you can.”
I’m not the woman who loves the one she’s with. I’m also not one who gives up because things aren’t perfect. You fight for what you love. You commit to making the relationship better. I don’t believe in the perfect match. There’s the one you love enough to stay with; there’s the one who puts up with your shit. It’s not romantic in the standard sense, but to me, it feels better. It feels real.
March moves then. He brings me into his arms as if I’m made of crystal. In my hair, he whispers, “I don’t deserve a fresh start, but I’m glad you’re giving me one. I won’t let you down, Jax. This time, I’ll stay ’til the end.”
“I don’t either,” I mumble. “I’m a screwup. Fortunately, life is arranged so that people don’t get what they deserve.”
He laughs shakily, crowning my temple with kisses. “That’s true enough.”
“Do you have any other grievances? This is your last chance.”