“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“I just wanted them to understand what they put you through.”
“They did . . . they do.”
“And I wanted you to have the celebration you deserved and I wanted to . . .” He trails off.
“No more hiding,” she reminds him gently.
“I wanted you to have your people around you in case . . .”
“In case? In case what?”
“I just knew how destroyed I’d be by leaving you and you know me, I do better on my own, but I wanted to make sure, in case you were feeling even a little bit of what I was, that you’d have your people, that they’d be there for you, the way you always are for them.”
“You don’t though.”
“What?”
“Do better on your own,” she manages, as the first tear falls and then another.
“Shit, boss, don’t cry.”
“I only ever cry around you.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“No,” she manages to say, pulling away just enough to look into his eyes again. “It’s not because you make me cry. It’s because you’re the only person I’m okay with seeing me like this.”
“And why’s that?” he asks, brushing away her tears with his thumb as gently as he can.
“Because I love you and I think I’ve loved you for years and I’m so sorry it took me so long to realize it.” Silent seconds tick by. “Xavier?”
He lets out a ragged breath. “I’ve loved you for so long, I don’t remember what it feels like to not love you. You know that, don’t you?”
“I think I did, but it was too much. You were . . . are . . . If I let myself feel it, really feel it, I knew what would happen and I just couldn’t . . .”
“What would happen?”
“I’d get my heart broken.”
“That’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.”
“You don’t have to want to break someone’s heart to do the job. In fact, I’m pretty sure the less someone wants to, the more it hurts.”
“So . . . you came here to tell me you loved me?”
“I did.”
“God, you’re so much fucking braver than I am.”
“Don’t do that, don’t make it a competition. I just . . . hid it better, I think.”
“That you love me?”
“Yeah. I learned from the master,” she says gently. “Five years is a long time to hide something like that.”
