We Never Kissed

Chapter 29

Ava

I pulled the only towel off the rack and wrapped it around me after a speedy rinse off from being in the ocean. Alex never showed up to get in with me let alone bring the towels he mentioned. My first thought was that he got a work call, but after him being late and our argument, I hoped it wasn’t that.

My hair dripping, I opened the door to the bathroom and saw him sitting on the bed with his back to me. “Alex?”

He didn’t answer, didn’t move.

My underwear was still damp and on his floor, so I grabbed the leggings I wore as I passed the pile and headed over to him. “What happened?” I asked as I came up beside him. My heart stopped when he turned to glare at me, and I saw he was holding my phone.

“What the hell’s going on, Ava?” His voice was deep, cold, a tone he’d never used with me before.

“What do you mean?” Of course I was pretty sure, so playing dumb tasted horrible on my tongue, but I had to be sure.

“Why is my mother texting you?” His dark eyes held mine, unblinking.

A chill ran over me, partially because I was still in a towel but mostly because I was exposed, caught in my deception. “I can explain…” My breathing labored, and my eyes stung with threatening tears. I held them back because that wouldn’t be fair to him. “Just let me put my clothes on, please.” I turned and heard his deep sigh at my back as I put on my leggings, found my shirt, and quickly pulled it over my head.

The moment I turned, he rose from the bed. “Dammit, Ava! What the fuck were you thinking? You saw how it affected me? You were there.” He closed the distance between us and peered down at me. “Five seconds in my mother’s presence broke me, and you still—what? Did you reach out to her, think you could fix me or something?”

My heart pounded in my chest, fear that if he was this angry at the assumption we’d only recently connected, how would he react to the real truth? “I’m afraid that’s not exactly what happened.”

He roughed a hand through his hair. “I don’t have the patience for these games, Ava. You obviously went behind my back. You’re exchanging texts with my mother. Why?”

I nodded to the bed. “Can we sit?”

His hands on his hips, he shook his head. “Just tell me.”

I drew in a deep breath and began. “I first met your mother at your dad’s funeral.” I winced, waiting for his reaction.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he growled, pacing away from me over to his dresser.

Strangely, I took that moment to note he didn’t have any pictures in his room of his parents, of them as a family growing up, no memories at all. I didn’t recall seeing them elsewhere either. It broke my heart how much pain his family had caused him, and I made it worse. “I’m sorry. She approached me,” I said defensively. “What was I supposed to do?”

He shook his head, as if he didn’t have an answer for that.

We stared at each other for long moments before he said, “What did she say?”

“She wanted to thank me… She knew about me already, about Sammy, our fam— ”

“How, dammit!”

Nervously, I locked my fingers together and explained how she’d learned bits and pieces from social media, how she’d found out different things about Alex and his life, how she knew we’d been taking care of him, considered him part of our family. “She also knew I lived in Vegas, and since she did too…”

“No…” He dragged a hand down his jaw. “Please, don’t tell me you’re…friends?” He said the word like it disgusted him.

“No, we’re not—”

“Then what? Why was she texting you? What the hell was she talking about? And how could you not tell me?”

Every word dripped with pain that was like a knife to my gut. But I deserved it.

Hesitantly, I moved over to him by the dresser. Putting a hand on his arm, I said gently, “First, you should know that when I met with her in Vegas, she was living in a homeless shelter.”

The hard edges of Alex’s face softened, his eyes filled with emotion but he didn’t speak, so I continued.

“She’d been clean for quite a while but had a setback and pretty much lost everything. She would show up at the food pantry I volunteered at, and we’d chat a little, mostly about her situation. I only wanted to help her, Alex. But then she started asking questions about you, wanting to learn more about your life.”

Alex pulled his hand from mine. His chest rose and fell quickly and in a strained whisper, he said, “All this time… Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“She begged me not to. She was ashamed…of what she’s done, of what her life became. And she didn’t want you to have any more pain because of her.”

“And yet here we goddamn are…” He moved past me, headed out of the room.

“What are you doing?” I said, following him.

“I need a drink.” He went into the kitchen, pulled out a bottle of bourbon, and poured a healthy portion before slugging the whole thing down.

My heart broke as I watched his back, waiting for him to turn back around.

“So, what else?” he asked without turning to face me.

Hesitantly, I spoke. “I know I should have told you…but I was torn. You never wanted to talk about her, so I figured it was better you didn’t know, especially since she didn’t want me to. But she’s doing so much better now, has a job, a place… She even started volunteering at the food pantry. Then I moved back home. I didn’t think I’d see her again.”

He turned, leaned against the counter. “Then we saw her in Vegas. You could have said something right then. Or any time after.”

The disapproving look on his face cut to my core, and I could no longer fight the tears. My throat clogged and moisture gathered in my lashes. “I’m sorry, Alex. I was going to tell you but things with us have been—”

“What? Complicated?”

“Well, yes, but I was going to say wonderful…and I was afraid of how you’d react, of what it would do to us.”

“Looks like you were fucking right, then,” he said with a coldness that struck fear in me.

“Alex—”

“I want you to go.”

My breath caught, and I stared at him, my heart hanging in the balance. The silence lingered as I grappled with what to say, what to do. What does this mean ?

Alex’s features transformed from anger to sadness, something even harder to witness. “I can’t do this, Ava. You knew…” He shook his head. “Now you’ve forced me into a place I don’t want to be, don’t you see?”

“I’m sorry. Can’t we—” I cut myself off at seeing his jaw clench. There was no point. I’d ruined everything. Leaving him in the kitchen, I returned to the bedroom to quickly gather my things. At his front door, I swiped at my wet cheeks. “You might want me gone, and you might not want to face your past, but your mother isn’t a monster. And she’s not your father either. She’s human. She had a problem. A disease. And she’s worked hard to change. Maybe you still don’t want her in your life, but hiding from your pain is never going to make you feel whole.” With that, I walked out the door. I stalled in the hallway, saying a silent prayer that he’d come after me, say he forgave me and still loved me. But the door remained closed, and I knew my heart would never recover without him.