No, not wrecked. He sounds destroyed.
“She will be. Told me about the ex. You did not tell me he fucking hurt her. You did not tell me a fucking thing about how bad it was, Greg. Problem husband not wanting a divorce—that is what you said. Can you imagine my shock when I find out he slapped her around?”
“Act like a bitch later, Reid. How is she?”
“That shit isn’t finished with me and you, hear me that. She’s changing. Keeping her here for tonight. Family meeting, motherfucker—my house, tomorrow morning.” I should be glad she has someone determined to be her support but that is getting locked down. I am back and Greg isn’t taking that job from me.
“She’s sleeping there? You have one bed, Reid. I can be there in ten to take her home. I’ll stay there until tomorrow when we can get together. Then we can reassess.”
“No. End it, Greg. I will fight you and fight you hard on this one.”
His harsh exhale comes over the line. “I don’t like this, not one fucking bit. If you fuck her up, swear to fucking Christ, I will kill you.”
I pull the phone away from my ear; surely I did not just hear him right.
“No time, Greg. We will talk, but right now, I have more important things to deal with. If you take anything from me right now, know this and remember . . . never would I harm a fucking hair on her head. Never.”
“If you believe that, Reid, then you’re more delusional than I thought. I guarantee you, just being there is hurting her enough to last a lifetime.”
With that, I hear him hang up, leaving me more confused than I was earlier tonight.
CHAPTER 11
Izzy
If I could stay inside this lush bathroom all night, I would. My heart feels like it’s been torn from my body and trampled on. Gutted, completely gutted. It was hard enough to live through those years with Brandon, but I did and I have worked so hard to move on. Rehashing that with the one person who has always held my heart, the one person I thought was gone forever? The pain is unfathomable. Never in my wildest dreams did I believe Axel would be back in my life.
The severe torment of just knowing he has always been very much alive is what is weighing on me the hardest right now. I keep running through my head all the things I needed him by my side for. All the things I was forced to deal with alone.
When he asked me about the picture, my heart stopped. Right there in the middle of his room, it just stopped. I’m not under the delusion that Axel is back and mine. Oh, that ship has sailed. I held on to the smallest hope that he was out there somewhere, but I can’t ignore the fact that he left me. He left me, and when he did that, he left his baby—the baby that I wasn’t able to protect. Of course Brandon would know how hard that was for me. Not that he ever was willing to share me with any child we would have created, but he knew why I had so readily agreed never to have children. My baby is gone, just like its father, and that is something I will never share with him. He doesn’t deserve to know, and if I’m honest with myself, I doubt he will care. After all, if he could so easily leave the person he professed to love so deeply, a child wouldn’t change anything.
I make quick use of his bathroom. I take a brief shower, wincing when the hot water rolls over my sore nipples. I dry off quickly and pull on the soft tee that smells like Axel; it hits me all the way to my knees. Jesus, he wasn’t this large when we were kids. He was tall but never so . . . solid. I don’t even bother with the briefs. What’s the point when I am already swimming in his tee? Running my fingers through my hair, I do a quick scan of his counter, look in some drawers, and hope for an extra toothbrush. Negative. Isn’t that just wonderful. Fuck it. That asshole wants me here, might as well use his shit. After I finish brushing and giving myself one hell of a ‘stay strong’ mental lecture, out I walk.
Shit . . . shit, fuck.
There he is. Walking back into the room, all large and mouthwatering. I want to leave, run, and never look back.
“Which side?” The slight wobble in my voice is hardly noticeable, and I am mentally cheering myself for keeping such a brave face.
“Don’t care. A bed’s a bed.” And with that, he walks into the bathroom and shuts the door.
Well—I guess that’s that then.
Walking over to the side farthest away from the bathroom door, I make quick work snapping the lights off, and diving into the sheets, and burrowing down. Naturally, my luck would be to pick the side he must sleep on. I feel like I have dived into an Axel-scented cloud.
With just the hint of his scent, I can feel the memories slamming back, fast and fierce. Biting my lip as hard as I can without drawing blood, I squeeze my eyes shut, running through every single mental exercise I know to try and jump this massive hurdle.
The past can’t touch me.
I am stronger than this.
I am a survivor.