Yes. Somehow, over the past two days of trying to forget, he’d realized his heart wasn’t as coldly clinical as his brain. He missed her. Needed her. The raw emotion in her inky eyes when she’d spotted him with Charlie told him the truth. She’d never wanted to hurt him. She wouldn’t be able to fake such need and grief and pain, all nakedly revealed when their gazes locked. And sometime last night, he’d come to the only conclusion left.
He needed to make things right between them, because he couldn’t let her go.
“Yes.”
“You love her, don’t you?” Cal asked. Dalton couldn’t speak, so he just gave a ragged nod. “Why don’t you try to talk to her?”
Dalton dropped his face into his hands. “Because I already did.” He dumped out the whole story, including meeting Charlie at the bar. “Too much has happened now. I was so angry and sick at the idea she had played me. I wanted to hurt her like she did me. How screwed up am I?”
Tristan sighed. “You just made mistakes, like Raven did. Problem is you’re so hotheaded, you do things without thinking them through sometimes.”
“I hurt people.”
Cal squeezed his shoulder. “We all do. I walked out on Morgan when she needed me the most. But she forgave me.”
“I did something horrible to Sydney,” Tristan finally said. “I never said I was sorry, either. It still haunts me.”
“We fuck up. We’re men. It’s what we do about it afterward to try to make it right that counts. To try not to hurt the people we love again. Remember what Mom used to say?”
“?‘Forgiveness is so much stronger than hate,’?” Dalton said slowly.
“Have you really forgiven her, Dalton?”
He thought about Raven. The way she’d confessed the truth with a raised chin and determination in her face. The way she’d loved him, and held him, and squeezed him into her body like she never wanted to let him go. She’d made mistakes, too, but had she truly lied about the way she felt about him? The agony on her face would haunt him forever. Didn’t you have to love someone to allow them to hurt you that deeply?
The answer came up from within the deep, dark place inside. “Yes. I really have forgiven Raven.”
“No. Not Raven. That’s not where the real problem lies.”
“What are you talking about?”
Cal gazed at him with worried, gentle eyes. “I’m asking if you can forgive Mom. For leaving you. For dying.”
He flinched. The words slapped and bruised. He tried to bury it, but there was too much that had come to the surface.
Cal continued. “You were the youngest, and I think you were hit the hardest. Tristan and I were better established with who we were and what we wanted to do. You were still figuring things out. But I swear, you were her favorite. Sometimes I’d watch you together while you talked, and this peace would come over you, as if she was the only one who was able to reach you. I saw that again when you were with Raven.”
Tristan’s voice came from afar. “Cal’s right. It took me a while to accept what happened with the accident, but I got there. Especially this past year. I feel like we found each other again.”
“Raven forgave her father, and that’s why she’s able to really love you. You won’t ever be free until you do the same.”
Dalton stared at his brothers. The realization pierced through him like a sword, striking deep and true. He was right. It had been Mom all along. If he believed Raven, he’d have faith Mom had planned on coming back and would never have left him behind. Wasn’t it time to allow that possibility to heal him? Hadn’t he carried the secret guilt of anger and pain at her betrayal for way too long?
His brothers turned from the balcony. “Think about it. Come down for breakfast, please. Morgan wants to see you.”
He nodded. “Thanks.”
Tristan patted him on the shoulder, and his brothers left him to his own thoughts, their words still echoing in the air.
Raven launched herself at the bag. Her foot connected with a satisfying thump, and she spun into a round of tight jabs with a solid left hook. Sweat pooled in her eyes, and her heart galloped in her chest. She waited for Xavier’s signal to stop, but his voice was a whiplash.
“Did I tell you to stop? Give me another round!” he demanded. Motherfucker.
She gathered up her last shreds of energy, pumping out all that pent-up anger from inside, and threw herself back at the bag. Over and over she punched, until her fists were sore and her legs were shaking and she didn’t think she could stand for another moment.
“Time.”
She stumbled toward her water bottle, drinking half of it in one gulp and pouring the rest over her head. His white teeth flashed at her in smug satisfaction. “I don’t think this relationship between us is working for me anymore.”
He chuckled. “Tough shit. You’re my best student and I won’t let you walk. That was intense. Got yourself some demons there, girl?”
She kept her silence and drank some more.
Xavier didn’t seem to respect her space or her silence. “It’s Dalton, right? Brady’s friend? Unless you were picturing another cracked-up burglar? What happened with that guy, anyway? Is he locked up?”
“He got two years because of the gun.”