“We’ll work on that when we get home, okay?” The way she emphasized that we will do whatever she has in mind when we get home is a subtle reminder that I’m not as alone as I feel. The woman I accused on her first day of not being able to put our mutual past out of her mind in order to take care of my wife is quickly becoming my anchor. I was a narcissistic ass to think that she would still be angry with me years later and that she would allow that loathing to cloud the care and judgment she gave my wife. Instead, she has proven time and time again that this is her job, a job that she does damn well. Now, we’re to the point that I don’t know what will happen after Alyssa dies and I don’t have Melanie to turn to when I feel overwhelmed.
“Work on what?” I ask, seeing the gears turning in her mind. Is she going to sign me up for remedial parenting classes or something? I wouldn’t doubt it given the number of failings I have listed off in the past five minutes.
“There are little things we can do to make it easier on Jacob after Alyssa is gone,” she promises me. “It’s never going to be easy, but I will help you and Alyssa prepare for his emotional future. And Xavier, you’ll never be alone when it comes to him, okay?”
She flashes a weak smile, squeezing my hand that is still resting in hers. There are so many more questions I would love to ask her, but I promised Alyssa that I would enjoy my day and not obsess about what is going on in our home or our lives. We have five hours left before we have to walk back to the dock and she’ll be pissed if she finds out I spent the entire day sitting at a scenic overlook, crying like a little bitch.
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 whispers 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 cannot 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.