Pursing my lips together, I looked over Ben’s shoulder and flinched.
The black spot on the hill stood upright and came toward us. I cursed the flutter in my stomach. I threatened to cut out my eager heart. I shouldn’t love someone who ran when I needed him most. I couldn’t condone his actions. I wouldn’t live with a man who couldn’t touch. He needed serious help, and I wasn’t the woman who would heal him. I wasn’t strong enough.
Clue and Ben drifted away, leaving me exposed and waiting for Fox to arrive.
“Don’t be sad, mummy. I don’t like it when you’re sad.”
I wished Clara’s voice would stop. She sounded so wise. Pushing me into solutions I wasn’t ready to accept. I wanted to be sad. I wanted to cry. I wanted her to come back to life so I could pretend the world was perfect and never cruel.
He stopped a foot away, grey-white eyes as bleak as any snowstorm. “I had to come. I had to say goodbye to her.”
I stayed silent, not trusting myself to be able to speak without screaming or crying.
He moved forward a step. “Zel. I’m so unbelievably sorry. I can’t ever express how much I wish I could rewind time.” He looked like a black mountain, shuddering occasionally with grief. “I know you’ll never forgive me, but I had to see you. Had to talk to you and explain.”
I studied him. His face held shadows of bruises, his jaw slightly puffy. He’d been in another fight—searching for a way out of this hell. His black jacket and trousers swallowed the brightness of the day. He’d always favoured black and now I knew why. He was death incarnate. Everything he touched turned to ruin.
I flinched, dropping my gaze. I couldn’t look at him.
“He needs you. Don’t be mad.”
Even now, Clara was driving me insane.
Fox came forward. “Please. I know how hard this must be for you. Let me explain.”
Anger exploded out of me. “Explain? Explain?” My broken heart rallied in my chest, throwing off melancholy and thrumming hot and furious. “How about I explain? You. Left. Me. You ran when I needed you the most.” I waved my hand, wanting to hit him. “Your promises of wanting us—of working to deserve us—it was all bullshit. You never changed. You watched my little girl die—the same girl you’d hoped would cure you—and you ran because there was nothing else for you to stay for.”
All the greyness and sadness inside me suddenly erupted into gold sparks. I shoved him back with a finger to his sternum. “What do you want me to say, Fox? That I’m sorry you’re hurting. That I’m sorry you fell in love with her only to have her gone so soon?” I threw my hands up. “Do you want me to forgive you for leaving me shattered and all alone in your office? That it didn’t f**king ruin me that I had to cry into Oscar’s arms, or Ben’s and never yours? How about the fact that no matter what you promise you always break them! You’ll never be able to give me what I need. You’ll never be able to hold me or even sleep beside me.”
Everything angry and crazy inside suddenly simmered, like a hurricane that ran out of puff. I sighed heavily. “I don’t know what you want from me, Fox. And frankly, I don’t care.”
“Don’t fight with him, mummy. He’s hurting. Same as you.”
I hated that Clara’s voice had become my conscience. I hated that what she said was true. And I hated that no matter what I said or did, I couldn’t ignore her. I would never be able to ignore my daughter.
The image of the little boy came again, and I knew I owed it to Fox to tell him. He deserved to know. I couldn’t steal another family member from him—I wasn’t that cruel. He may have destroyed me, but I wouldn’t be responsible for ruining him further. He didn’t need my help with that.
Fox dragged a hand through his bronze hair, looking up the hill to where I’d scattered Clara’s remains.
“Fuck, this is all so twisted. I hate myself for everything I’ve done to you.” His jaw clenched, and moisture glistened in his eyes. “If you only knew how much I hate myself. How much I want to sacrifice my entire life just so you never have to feel such pain.”
His big body shuddered; his shoulders rolled and his destitution turned my spent rage into wistful longing. Clara was right. He was hurting. Badly.
He’d been alone—dealing with Clara’s death without anyone’s support. He’d done who knew what to find some sort of peace and I couldn’t be angry anymore. I couldn’t hate him for the sins he’d caused because ultimately, he wasn’t responsible.
Forgiveness.
It was like a drug, warming me, soothing me. Turning all my anger into grudging acceptance. I knew if he reached out to hug me, I would forgive him. If he could wrap his arms around me and give me a sanctuary to cry in, I would forgive him for everything.
A hug would grant me hope.
A hug would show me promise.
But asking him to hug me was like asking for the moon. It wasn’t possible, and he couldn’t be who I needed him to be. The vicious circle was complete. It was time to share the news I hadn’t told anyone and walk away. If he wanted to be part of the child’s life, I wouldn’t stop him. But I couldn’t share anymore of mine with Roan Fox. I couldn’t set myself up for more heartbreak.
Bracing my back, I said, “Fox, I’m—”
Fox launched forward, bringing the scent of smoke and metal. He smelled of salt too—of tears and sadness. My heart squeezed into a small ball at the thought of him grieving all alone.
His eyes flashed. “Stop calling me that, goddammit,” he growled. “How many times do I need to tell you to call me Roan? Clara did. She understood why I needed her to call me that.” He dragged hands through his hair looking weary and worn. “Fuck, Zel. Fox is gone. He’s dead. I killed him three nights ago when I tried to change my past. I never want to hear you say that name again.”
Anger bubbled over again. He’d ignored my heartfelt confession and jumped straight back to what he needed. The selfish bastard. “What you want? What about what I want?” I laughed harshly. “You left me when I needed you the most. You. Ran. Away. You can’t touch, you can’t love, you can’t even be there for me. Why should I remember to never call you Fox when I have no intention of ever seeing you again?”
He moved suddenly. His large hands on my shoulders detonated my skin with bolts of power and awareness just like when we first touched. It crackled, it burned—whizzing through my nervous system, keeping me locked beneath his grip.