fuck wardrobe and your inability to take a hint when conversations are over begs to differ.”
I smiled a little and smoothed my hand against my neon yellow sundress. “Okay, I guess some things stayed the same for me.”
“Not for me, though. No offense, but I’m not interested in reconnecting with you and trading camp stories over s’mores. I don’t have time for any kind of connection in my life—I’m too damn busy. So, if you would please—”
“Kismet,” I said, standing up straighter. “You taught me that word. Remember? Along with a million other words. But kismet was my favorite. It meant—”
“I know what it means,” he hissed, “but this isn’t that. This isn’t destiny.”
“It could be,” I argued. “All I’m saying is…this has to mean something. The universe brought us back together for a reason.”
“The universe doesn’t control us. I’m sick and tired of this millennial way of thinking. There’s no such thing as destiny. If you need a reason for us crossing paths after all these years, here it is: we both lived about an hour outside of our campsite, it’s a small fucking world, and people move to different towns. You just so happened to move to my hometown. How’s that for your universe theory and divine timing?”
“Not very good, I’ll admit.”
He looked at me and his mouth twitched, as if he had something to say, but didn’t want to share it with me. He shook his head and turned around to head back to his house, and I swallowed hard, thinking back to what Joy told me about Jax’s past.
I began following him once more and said the eight words I should’ve never said. “I heard about what happened to your mother.”
Jax’s back was to me as his body halted. His shoulders rounded forward and I swore it felt as if time stood still. I didn’t know what to say next. I didn’t know how to move forward, but since I’d placed the words out there, I knew I couldn’t leave them lingering.
I took a few steps toward him as my next breath caught in my throat. “Jax, I’m so sorry about—”
“Don’t,” he cut in, making my words falter away. His head shook as he kept his back toward me. “Don’t talk about my mother.”
Even though his words seemed harsh, I heard the crack in his voice as he spoke. That wasn’t anger he was spitting my way—it was pain. An ache I knew too well.
“It was a mistake, Jax. It wasn’t your fault.”
“You have no clue what was my fault.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to say I understand what you’ve been through.”
“There’s no way you understand what I’ve been through, Sun,” he muttered as the nickname hit me like a ton of bricks. If I were honest, so many of my recent days felt more like the shadows of the moon instead of sunbeams.
“I do,” I said, trying my hardest to make him see that he wasn’t alone in his misery.
He turned on his heels and his eyes pierced into me with their sadness. Within that moment I felt the weight of the world he’d been carrying around all on his own. “How? How do you understand?”
“Because I’m the reason my parents and daughter died,” I blurted out. Those were my nine words. The nine words that burned as they rolled off the tip of my tongue. The nine words I hadn’t spoken out loud since—ever. I’d never said those words. Yoana forbid me to speak them, but each day I felt the weight of them. Just because words weren’t spoken didn’t mean they weren’t felt, and those words suffocated me on a daily basis.
Jax’s eyes softened as he stood there with complete bafflement at my statement. My nerves shot through the sky, rocketing into the atmosphere, reminding me of how big a person’s hurts could be in a single moment.
I lowered my head and fiddled with my fingers, because looking into those brown eyes of confusion was making my heart ache more than it could handle. “There was a bad storm, and I was driving my family to a dinner out. It was right after a fight with my husband. He’d been sleeping around with a coworker and I found out. He called me delusional, emotional, and unstable. He was the master of gaslighting, making me feel as if I were at fault when I did nothing wrong. He shut down my concerns without even giving me a chance