Page 79 of Waiting for You

"I could never hate you."

"The feeling's mutual." She took a sip of her coffee. "Xavier's trying to understand your choices. Why you left, the situation with your father, all of it. He's working through the fallout. But you need to bridge the gap. He's too stubborn to make the first move."

"How?"

"Go to him. Talk. Stop waiting for the universe to align. I watched you in Hawaii. You know how to be brave when the stakes are high. Do it again."

She was right. I'd blown up my engagement out of terror. My father dictated my reality, and I let him. For eight years I justified my cowardice as protection. If I'd fought back earlier, if I'd stared Henry Ty down and refused to surrender that sapphire ring, I didn't know how it would have ended.

But I hadn't even tried.

I chose submission, and I carried that choice into every part of my adult life.

"I'll fight for him."

"Good."

"Thank you, Eliza. For the grace."

"Maybe we grab a drink sometime. As friends."

"I'd like that."

We stood and shared a brief, real hug. When I pulled back, a small smirk touched the corner of her mouth.

"Go get your man," she said.

I didn't hesitate.

Out on the pavement, I pulled out my phone. Calling Xavier directly felt reckless. I had no guarantee he'd answer, let alone tolerate my voice before I'd drafted a coherent apology. I dialed Violet instead.

"I need Xavier's address. I can't call him blind."

Violet let out a startled laugh. "Just come to my apartment. He lives right down the street. But figure out your pitch first. What are you going to say?"

"I'm going to fight. I should've gone to war for him years ago, and I didn't. I just pray I'm not too late."

"You aren't. Get over here."

I sprinted the few blocks to Violet's building and took the stairs instead of the elevator. At her floor, I rapped my knuckles against the heavy door. Footsteps echoed from inside, then the metallic click of the deadbolt.

She pulled the door open.

Over her shoulder, sitting rigid on the living room sofa in his tailored jacket, was Xavier.

TWENTY

XAVIER

Sloane hovered by the front door.

I'd wanted to do this since the rehearsal dinner, since long before that, honestly. Every time we stood close enough to share body heat in Hawaii, I'd talked myself out of it with excuses that had finally run dry.

I closed the gap, framed her face in my hands, and kissed her.

She didn't hesitate. She melted against me, her hands gripping my jaw to kiss me back with everything she had. I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against me, and it still wasn't enough. It had never been enough. The hunger between us didn't fade the more I fed it. It sharpened. I wanted the lost years and the distance and the damage gone, traded for the certainty of her mouth on mine.

I kissed her until the apartment faded away.