bChapter /bb132/bb: /bbXavier /bbPOV /b

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    b35 /b

    The hum of my car’s engine fills the silence between us, low and steady, beneath the soft rhythm of the road beneath the tires. Our Saturday morning is stretched out before us in golden radiance as the sunlight slips through the windshield and washes across her bare legs where her dress has gathered just above her knees.

    She doesn’t know where we’re going. Not yet.

    And even though I haven’t told her anything beyond asking her toe with me, she hasn’t pressed me for details. She just slipped into the seat beside me, then tied her hair back with a hairband that was around her wrist, and buckled her seatbelt like she trusted mepletely.

    It’s that trust that makes my jaw tense as I drive. Because she doesn’t know I’m taking her back to

    the ce I first hurt her.

    The city rolls by in quiet brushes of color–shes of green, polished stone, the soft glint of the morning sun off café windows. Her fingers are tapping against her knee in an absent rhythm, but not in an anxious way. Just waiting. Her legs are crossed at the ankles, and her posture’s rxed, but I can feel the small weight of her nces every now and then as we near the intersection that’ll give

    our destination away.

    Then she sees it. And her fingers stop tapping.

    bI /bcatch the shift in her body before I even have to nce over at her–the way she sits a little straighter, and how her breath changes and turns shallow when it reaches the top of her lungs.

    Then her eyes flick to mine. She knows.

    I pull into the small parking lot across from the upscale restaurant and ease the car into a reserved spot. The sign outside hasn’t changed; it still reads ‘te & Rose‘ in the same ornate gold lettering, while the same ivy continues to creep across the building’s stone fa?ade.

    I kill the engine, and the silence inside the cab swells,

    She doesn’t speakb, /band neither do I–not at first. But then I take a breath, rest my hand on the gearshift just to ground myself, and say, “I know what this ce means to you. What I let happen that night.”

    She doesn’t look at me. But I keep my voice steady as I continue, “And that’s why we’re here.b” /b

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    Chapter 132: Xavier POV

    Finally, she turns her head towards me, and her expression is unreadable. Even calm, maybe. But quiet in that way she gets when she’s thinking too much and feeling even more.

    b35 /b

    Then, she nods, and I breathe a fraction easier. I get out firstb, /bcircling around to her side of the car to open her door. She takes my hand as she steps out, and even though her fingers are cool from the air–con that was running on the drive over, her grasp is steady.

    The hostess greets us inside with a friendly smile, and I murmur the reservation name before she leads us past a scattering of early brunch tables dotted with couples in cored shirts and linen bas /bwaiters weave through them with silver trays and fresh espressos.

    We reach the far corner of the restaurant, where the light filters in through the tall windowsb, /bas soft jazz hums from the hidden overhead speakers, and our table waits. It’s tucked against the wall, slightly secluded, with two ce settings and a small vase of freshvender between them.

    It’s the same table from that night. And just as I knew she would, she notices it immediately.

    I pull out her chair, and she hesitates only for a second before sitting down. I take the seat across from her, then rest my hands on my knees, and wait until the server has left us before I speak again.

    “I wanted to start here,” I say quietly. “Because this is where I got it wrong.”

    She doesn’t touch her menu, and she doesn’t nce at her water. Her eyes are on everything iexcept /ime. And I don’t me her.

    She’s back at this table for the first time since I all but ripped her dignity to shreds across it. And now she’s sitting here, dressed in soft lc instead of ckce, wearing a quiet grace I still don’t feel worthy of.

    But I owe her the truth, my truth. The kind that doesn’t hide behind gestures or changed behavior. The kind that uses words. Real ones.

    “The first time bI /bsaw you here,” I begin quietly, “you were wearing a ck dress withce sleeves. You’d put effort into your appearance that night, and I didn’t even see it. All I saw was what I iwanted /ito see. What I told myself you were.”

    At thatb, /bshe looks up at me slowly. Her expression doesn’t shift, but there’s weight in the space between us now. The kind that makes your chest feel too full.

    “I watched you walk in and I sized you up like I had the right to. From your ts to your red lip stain. From your hair to your neckline.” I pause, swallowing hard. “I looked at you and decided you

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    Chapter 132: Xavier POV

    :

    were like your mother. That you were just another…”

    I stop myself for half a second, but I won’t soften it. Not this part. So I continue, “bI /bcalled you a gold–digging whore. Out loud and to your face. In front of strangers and our parents. I weaponized everything about you because I was too much of a fucking coward to deal with what you actually

    made me feel.”

    b35 /b

    Her jaw tenses at my words, but at least she doesn’t look away.

    b999 /b

    “I remember thinking, i‘/iiJust /iisay /iisomething /iicruel/i, iXavier/ii. /iiSay /iiit /ibefore ishe /iimakes /iiyou /ifeel isomething/i. My voice drops then as shame curls low in my throat. “And then I did. And it worked. So you left, like anybody who had been verbally decimated had the right to.b” /b

    Another silence stretches between us, with the only sound floating around us being the faint clinking of cutlery from the other side of the restaurant and the soft hum of jazz.

    But there’s more I need to get off my chest. “And then I followed you out to the parking lot. Do you

    remember?”

    Her fingers curl slightly on the table’s edge, and her answer is so soft I almost miss it. “I remember.”

    “I pinned you to your car.” My own voice sounds foreign now, like I’m confessing to something someone else did. “I told you that you and your mother would regret evering into our lives. That you were taking something that wasn’t yours.b” /b

    I let the silence hang again, because I iwant /iher to feel how ufortable I am with it. Because she lived with the fallout long after I got to walk away from her.

    “You didn’t take anything,” I say finally. “You gave so many things–kindness, respect, honesty. You stood up for that waitress I humiliated. You stood up to me. And I hated you for it. Because I couldn’t ignore you after that.”

    I then lock my eyes with hers again. “I never said the words ‘I’m sorry‘. I kept waiting for my actions to speak for me. But that’s not enough. So here it is. I’m sorry, La. For the words I used. For what I made you feel. For not seeing you as anything more than a mirror of your mother when you’re nothing like her.”

    Her breathing changes when I’m done. Not into something sharper, just more weightyb, /bas bif /bshe’s grounding herself.

    “I brought you back to this table,” I finish, my voice lower now, “because this is where I broke

    Chapter 132: Xavier POV

    something. And I want to be the one to fix it. Even if all you let me do is sit here and say this.”

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