Mended (Connections, #3)(46)

“When did you get this?” My voice dips low, but I manage to get the words out.

He’s gazing down at me. His voice is deep and sexy in the dim room. “Right after you left for Chicago. If I couldn’t have you, I wanted to always have a part of you.”

“Why? Why would you do that?” My voice quavers as I ask.

He inhales a deep breath and sighs. “Because I loved you and knew I always would.”

All the tension I’ve been feeling. All the pain and anger I’ve held on to. I blurt it all out in what I believe to be the truth. “No, no you didn’t. You didn’t want me. You wanted her. This”—I say, drawing a line down his tattoo—“doesn’t make any sense.”

His hand grasps my waist. “Ivy, I have something to tell you.”

I pull away and he lets me. “Tell me what?”

“It wasn’t me that night.”

“Xander, this is why I didn’t want to discuss our past. Please don’t lie.”

Everything about him goes rigid. The intensity in his eyes grows even stronger. He pauses for a moment, then almost hisses, “I’ve never lied to you, Ivy. Ever. And I NEVER will.” He puts emphasis on the word never.

I take a step backward toward the door. Afraid—afraid he’s lying . . . afraid he isn’t. Everything about that night suddenly comes crashing back—everything I’ve fought so hard to forget.

His fingers tuck a piece of hair behind my ear as he says, “I was an * then. I let you believe things I shouldn’t have.”

“Things like what?” I squeak out.

He pauses, then asks, “What did you see that night?” The question comes out quiet, sounding almost sad.

I move back. Certain about what I saw, but suddenly unsure about the facts, trying to remember everything. “I saw your car parked in the driveway, and when I went around back I heard voices. I looked in the window and saw Tessa’s face almost staring back at me, so I turned and ran.”

Xander let out a low, shuddering breath. “It wasn’t me with Tessa that night. That wasn’t me in the pool house. River took my car. He was the one with Tessa.”

I look at his face now, into his eyes—and truth is all I see. “Why would you let me believe it was you?”

He shrugs. “Fuck, I don’t know. I was confused. I didn’t know what to do and I was mad.”

I’m shaking from head to toe. “You were mad? Why would you be mad?”

He steps forward and runs his fingers down my arm. His mouth thins. “Why would you automatically think I cheated?”

“Because we were apart for so long. I just thought you couldn’t wait.”

He entwines his fingers with mine. “Couldn’t wait to f*ck someone I didn’t care about? Ivy, you knew me better than that.”

Tears slide faster down my face. “Why wouldn’t you just explain? I still don’t understand why you let me go to Chicago thinking you cheated on me.” Anger, sadness, regret—they all resonate within me. None of them taking control. I’m mad that he let me believe a lie for so long, I’m sad that I didn’t confront him before I left, and I regret letting my own insecurities cloud my judgment—overshadow what I knew we had.

He squeezes my hand and I squeeze back. He catches my chin between his thumb and finger with his other hand and caresses it. “Because it was the easy way. I had to let you go . . . you had to get away from your mother, and that was the only way. I had so much other shit going on in my head. I couldn’t go with you, baby, even though I wanted to so badly. My mother, my brother, my sister—they needed me.”

My tears are out of control and I push him back. Anger finally takes over. I turn and head for the door, my voice rising as I cross the room. “I needed you.”

He follows on my heels, clutching my hand and twisting me to look at him. “I know,” he says in barely a whisper. “I know. But I knew you were stronger than you thought. I wanted you to make it. To become the powerhouse singer that you deserved to be. And you did it. I had so much going on in my head then, I couldn’t think straight, and at the time it was the only way.”

I stare at him and he doesn’t falter. More anger clogs my throat. “You shouldn’t have decided that on your own.”

“I didn’t know any other way. I was struggling with so many emotions, emotions I still struggle with. Things about my father I can’t seem to forget.”

“I was there for you. I would have been with you.”

“That’s why I let it happen. You couldn’t stay and I couldn’t go.”

“But I missed you every day. When I started singing, every performance I thought of you, I looked for you, not for congratulations but for support.”

He steps into me and any buzz I was feeling from earlier is gone. He brings his hand to my face and wipes away my tears and I let him. Silence falls between us as we communicate with only our eyes for a few seconds. He draws even nearer and the attraction can’t be denied and neither can the love. He kisses my forehead and again I let him. I want him to. I want to feel his touch. I love him. Yes, I love him. I always have.

Pressing his forehead to mine, he whispers, “Baby, I was always there for you. I watched you. I never forgot you. I sent a piece of my heart to your first show and even though you never responded, I didn’t give up for the longest time.”