Page 150 of The Broken Keys

“Jaxon, we don’t need to talk about this anymore. I can see how much it hurts you, and I don’t wish anyone pain.”

He pulls his hand out from mine and peers over at me. “Any kind of discomfort I have is all my own doing.”

I sit back and consider how that statement revealed Jaxon’s guilt. Somehow, he thinks the car accident was his fault.

The server returns with our drinks, placing the whiskey in front of Jaxon and the wine in front of me. I wish I could taste it, but I’m not going to remind Jaxon that I can’t smell or taste anything. I want him to feel comfortable around me.

“How are you feeling?” Jaxon’s question breaks through my thoughts. “Physically, I mean. After the accident.”

“I’m healing.” I hold the stem of my wineglass. “The bruises are fading, and the soreness is manageable. I barely notice it anymore.”

“Any lingering issues? Headaches? Anything you’re not telling the doctors?”

“No, nothing like that.” I study his face, noting the tension in his shoulders and the way his fingers grip his whiskey glass a little too tightly. “Why do you ask?”

“Just concerned.” He takes a drink, his eyes never leaving mine. “Car accidents can have delayed symptoms. Internal injuries that don’t show up right away.”

The server returns, places our appetizer down, then leaves us alone again.

“The doctors cleared me.” I reach for a spring roll. “I’m fine, Jaxon. Really.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it drop. We eat in comfortable silence for a few beats, and I find myself analyzing him.

There’s something about the way he moves and the careful precision in everything he does. It’s familiar, like muscle memory my brain can’t access.

I wipe my mouth with my napkin. “Can I ask you something?”

“You seem to be full of questions today.” A small smile tugs at his lips. “That’s a good sign.”

“I’m trying to understand my life.” I rest my arms on the table. “When we were working together, before the accident, did we ever talk about personal things?”

His expression shifts, something raw flickering behind his eyes before he masks it. “We talked.”

“About what?”

“Your dreams for your company. We spoke about fate and destiny. Life in general, I suppose.” He swirls the whiskey in his glass. “You trusted me with things you didn’t share with many people.”

“And you?” I take a brief pause. “Did you trust me?”

The question seems to catch him off guard. He’s quiet for a long moment. When he finally addresses me, there’s an intensity there that makes my breath catch.

“I did.” His voice is rough around the edges. “I still do.”

“Why are you making it sound negative?”

He shifts in his seat. “It’s not that. It’s just not something I give to many people.”

The kindness in his tone makes me warm inside. “Jaxon, I hope my accident didn’t mess up our friendship.”

“It didn’t, but it did change our dynamics.”

“How so?”

He stares at me for so long, I almost repeat myself. Then he reaches across the table and covers my hand with his. His palm is warm, solid, and something about the touch feels right in a way I can’t explain.

“Take this morning, for instance. You’re relearning things about your business you’ve mastered, and I’m here to help. Happily, I might add.”

“Isn’t that what you did before when you mentored me?”