Twelve #2
“You’re right,” I say finally, and the admission costs me.
“I should have talked to you. Should have trusted you to understand. But Aspen...” I lean forward, needing her to see the truth in my eyes.
“I watched Vito destroy people for decades. I saw what he did to anyone who crossed him. The thought of him turning that on you...” My hands clench into fists on the table.
“I couldn’t breathe when I thought about it.
I still can’t. I can deal with a lot. Fuck!
I already have. But the one thing I could never, ever endure is you being hurt.
So if that makes me the villain here, so be it. ”
I drop my voice to a low murmur. “Because don’t imagine for one moment it would have been as easy as him killing you, Aspen. Once you were gone, his hold on me would have been too.”
My eyes drill into hers. “Oh no. Whatever Vito would have done would have been far, far worse. Something designed to keep me in line and doing his bidding. Locking you up and torturing you. Selling you into the skin trade. Making you his mistress. Or my whipping boy. The possibilities are only limited by your imagination.”
Her face loses what little color she had, and I watch her swallow hard. Good. She needs to understand what was at stake. What’s always been at stake when you’re tangled up with people like Vito Rossi.
“I know what he was,” she says quietly. “I’m not naive, Kaiden. I never was, no matter how much you and Mamma wanted to believe otherwise.”
That surprises me. I always thought... but then again, maybe that was always my mistake. Underestimating her. Treating her like something fragile instead of the strong woman she clearly is. But maybe that buys me a little latitude. “Then you understand why I had to go back.”
“I understand why you thought you had to.” She picks up her cup again, cradles it between her palms. “But understanding doesn’t make it hurt any less. Doesn’t change the fact that you broke us.”
The words land like a physical blow and hurt even more. Does she think it was easy for me? “I know.”
“Do you?” Her eyes meet mine again, and there’s something in them I can’t quite read.
“Do you know what it’s like to build your entire world around someone, only to have them ripped away?
To wake up every morning for months, years, and have that second where you forget, just for a moment, and you reach for them?
Only to remember all over again that they’re gone? ”
The raw pain in her voice undoes me. My fingers itch to reach across the table, take her hand, pull her into my arms like I used to.
But I know she won’t welcome any kind of advance, so I try for truth instead, even though emotions aren’t my strong point.
“I do know,” I tell her, my voice rough.
“Because I lived it too, Aspen. Every fucking day for ten years.”
“It’s not the same.”
I tip my head to one side, annoyed that she’s dismissing my feelings like they’re nothing. Like I made my choice, so I should be over it. “You really think so?”
“You weren’t the one left behind,” she says, but there’s less conviction in her voice now.
“No, I was the one who had to walk away from the only good thing in my life. Who had to go back to being Vito’s punching bag, his errand boy, his fucking slave - all while knowing you were out there somewhere, hating me.
Thinking I abandoned you.” I lean forward, needing her to understand.
“At least you got to hate me, Aspen. At least you had that. I didn’t even get to hate myself properly because I knew I’d made the only choice I could live with.
The same choice I’d make all over again if I had to. ”
She blinks rapidly, and I realize she’s fighting back tears. “I never hated you.”
And the blows keep coming, harder than any of Vito’s beatings ever did.
“I wanted to,” she continues, her voice breaking slightly.
“God, I tried. It would have been so much easier if I could have just hated you. But I couldn’t, and that made it worse.
Because even though you broke my heart, even though you left me when I needed you most, I still...
” She stops, shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter now. ”
“It matters.”
She studies me for a long moment, her expression closing off, becoming unreadable, and I know before she opens her mouth that she’s retreated inside herself, refusing to admit the hard truths, and redirecting the conversation instead.
“What do you want from me, Kaiden? Why did you really ask me here?”
The question I’ve been dreading. Because the honest answer is everything. I want everything back. The life we should have had. The years Vito stole from us. Her.
But there’s a twinge of guilt too, which I quash down, as I’m also here because Mika asked.
“To see you. To explain. To...” I run a hand through my hair, frustrated with my inability to articulate what’s burning in my chest. “To apologize properly. To find out if there’s any chance… “I cut myself off, because even I can hear how pathetic it sounds.
Any chance we could try again.
Any chance you could forgive me.
Any chance you still feel anything for me besides anger and hurt.
“Any chance of what?” Her voice is softer now, almost tentative, and it gives me a hope I probably don’t deserve.
“I never stopped loving you.” The words tumble out before I can stop them.
“Not for a single day in ten years. I know I have no right to say that after what I did, but it’s the truth.
You’re still it for me, Aspen, you always have been.
And at this point in my life, I think it’s safe to say you always will be. ”
She closes her eyes, and a single tear escapes down her cheek. My hand moves instinctively to reach across the table, to brush it away, but I stop myself. I’ve lost the right to touch her like that.
When she opens her eyes again, they’re swimming with the rest of the tears she refuses to let fall.
“Don’t,” she whispers. “Don’t say things like that.”
“Why not? It’s the truth.”
“That’s not fair, Kaiden. You don’t get to walk back into my life after a decade and just... say things like that.”
“I know it’s not fair. Nothing about this is fair. But I’m done lying to you. I’m done pretending I don’t feel everything I’ve always felt. Even if you can’t forgive me, even if we can never be what we were, you deserve to know the truth.”
She’s quiet for so long, I think maybe she’s going to get up and walk away, but instead she steels herself and delivers what might as well be a death blow.
“You’re right. It doesn’t change anything.” Her eyes open again, and although they’re swimming with unshed tears, there’s also a steely resolve behind them. “Love wasn’t enough then, and it’s not enough now.”
The words hit me like bullets, each one finding its mark. I force myself to stay still, to not let her see how much that statement guts me. But this is Aspen, and she’s always been able to read me better than anyone.
“I’ve built a life,” she continues, her voice steadier now, like she’s rehearsed this part. “I have a career. Friends. Stability. I’m no longer that naive eighteen-year-old girl who thought love could conquer everything.”
“I’m not asking you to be.”
“Then what are you asking?” She leans forward, her hands flat on the table between us, her eyes on mine. “What do you want me to say?”
“What would be enough?” The desperation in my voice surprises even me. “Tell me what I need to do to fix this. How do I make you believe me? Take another chance on me?”
She looks at me sadly and shakes her head before blowing my world apart the way I did hers.
“I’m not sure there is anything that will make that possible.”