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We stared at each other for a long minute, blue eyes meeting my green with such intensity I thought fireworks really might burst right there in the room. It was so different than sexual tension. So much more than the intensity that had passed between us when we first met, or even the longing of last spring, when we’d met again.
This tension was deeper but somehow swam right under the surface of every interaction. Transparent and yet completely unreadable.
What was happening?
I cleared my throat, and Xavier looked away.
“So, have you found anything else?” he asked, obviously looking for a change of subject. “About my mum, that is? In the journals. I saw you’ve gone through a few more.”
I smiled. I knew he was interested. “I have, yeah. But nothing more about her yet. I don’t think Henry was really that interested in the new assistant cook. At least, probably not until she got involved with your dad.”
He gave a grim smile. “I suppose I just wonder how it happened. In some ways, I could see the match. Mum wasn’t the warmest of creatures, and Rupert, well, he was basically an ice block. I’ve wondered if they sort of spoke the same language, you know?”
I nodded. It would explain a lot.
“Why do you think you are the way you are, then?” I asked.
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You’re not cold like that.”
He looked genuinely surprised. “You’re the first one to say that.”
I chuckled. “Hotandcold is probably more accurate.”
“Mmm. Yeah.” He snorted. “Jagger once compared me to Jekyll and Hyde. My therapist didn’t think that was very funny, but I did.”
“What did she say?” I asked curiously. It was the first time, other than the other night, that Xavier had even brought up the fact that he was seeking therapy.
“Probably what I always knew, deep down. I struggle with attachment anxiety, apparently. Effects of not having a dad, losing Mum so young, then having every other major person in my life die on me before I’m even thirty-five. She says I ‘yearn for connection but push it away out of fear.’” The last part he stated while gesturing quotation marks with his fingers. “I don’t know about all that. It makes sense, but plenty of people suffer tragedies in their youth and don’t turn into assholes like me. Look at you, for instance.”
“Me?” I repeated.
Xavier shrugged like it was self-evident. “You lost your dad, then your mum, in a different way. And your grandfather too—he raised you, right?”
“He did,” I said. “But it’s not the same as everything that’s happened to you…”
“It’s not far off,” Xavier argued. “My point is that you’ve lost just as much as me, but you don’t chase people off with your temper.”
“I don’t know,” I said slowly. “Maybe I do the same thing in a different way. Maybe I freak out when I sense a threat to my little world. Maybe it’s why I haven’t had any other relationships besides you. Like I’m too quick to write everyone off because in reality, I’m scared of being abandoned again.”
By the time I was finished, my voice had slowed, words trailing off as the realization of what exactly we were both saying settled thickly over the room like a fog. We stared at each other, blinking like owls. Xavier had a crinkle between his brows, and his fingers were gripping his chair so hard his knuckles were turning white.
I cleared my throat. “Anyway. I just see you with Sofia, Elsie, Jagger. Even Frederick, when Georgina wasn’t around. And with Henry, at the end.” A pang of guilt strummed through me that I had missed the real end. That Xavier had been forced to deal with that on his own. Again. “While you’ve got a hard shell, once it’s broken, you’re incredibly dedicated to the people you love.”
“You, too.” His deep voice finally broke through the fog. “Don’t forget yourself there, Ces.”
I swallowed thickly. “Um…”
“What?” he asked. “You think I stopped loving you just because you don’t let me in your bed anymore? It don’t work like that, babe. Love doesn’t care about rules or bedclothes. It just keeps going. You taught me that.”
We blinked at each other across the room, and once again, I found it nearly impossible not to get up and curl into his lap. Because he was right. As much as I hated to admit it, I did still love him. I had a feeling I always would, and I wasn’t really sure what that meant for my future.
Loving Xavier was never the problem. The love between us was abundant and clear.
But just because something is there doesn’t mean it’s good for you.
Just because I loved him didn’t mean he was right for me.
