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Lea didn’t say anything as though she was sitting there waiting for him to find the words to explain it to her. Why did he keep opening up more and more to her?
Xander swallowed past the lump in his throat. The best thing was to get this over with as quickly as possible. “I was sixteen at the time. I’d been getting into a lot of trouble at school and at home, while my sister could do no wrong. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my sister. She’s great. But we are as different as night and day. She didn’t have to fight for my parents’ attention.”
He searched his memory for that one poignant day that altered the course of his life. “I had just gotten my driver’s license and I wanted my own motorcycle, but my father said if I wanted one, I had to earn it. I also had to pay my own insurance.”
“Dare I say it sounds reasonable? You know, teaching a child responsibility.”
“It would have been if the conversation had stopped there.” He took comfort in having her fingers entangled with his. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. Her skin was so smooth—so tempting.
“You don’t have to tell me if it’s too painful.”
Those words were like a challenge to him. “I refused to accept my father’s decision. I kept pushing.”
“Didn’t we all at that age?”
“It was during one of our arguments that my father reached his breaking point. He turned on me and said I wasn’t his son.” Xander had never admitted that to anyone, ever. Not even to his sister. “My father told me boarding school would put more structure in my life. That was when I told him that I hated him. I told him I never wanted to see him again. At which point he said unless I changed my attitude not to come home for the holidays.” And then realizing he’d let the conversation get too serious, he said, “I bet you were the perfect daughter.”
Lea was quiet for a moment. “Not exactly. There was this one bad boy in high school with a few tattoos and a big bad attitude that my parents wouldn’t let me date. We did get into it about him, but looking back on it now and knowing the guy was picked up for breaking and entering, I’m glad I lost that argument.”
Xander knew she was trying to make him feel better and he appreciated the effort. But there was more. He drew in an unsteady breath.
Xander raked his fingers through his hair. “Now that I’m older, I realize it wasn’t all my parents’ fault. I was stubborn and angry. Even though my mother tried to smooth things over at the holidays, I noticed my father never said a word. As such, I quit going home for the holidays. I either stayed at school or went on holiday with friends. During the summer, I would work for my grandfather—my mother’s father. He was into real estate. He would give me odd jobs of mowing lawns, painting houses, and one summer he got me a job working with a contractor. I learned a lot that summer.”
“What about your sister? She had to have missed you a lot.”
“She did. She would call and beg me to come home. When I told her I couldn’t because our father didn’t want me around, she insisted on visiting my grandparents while I was there.” Xander smiled as he remembered his sister’s insistence that they not grow apart. “She was tenacious when she wanted something.”
“And she loved her big brother.”
He nodded. His sister’s love was something that he never doubted. “She’s great—even if she can be a bit pushy at times.”
“You keep telling me that it’s not too late to repair my relationship with my parents. Why don’t you do the same?”
This was the part that hurt the most. The ache in his chest ebbed. “I can’t do that—”
“Sure you can—”
“No, I can’t. They died when I was in college. It was a car accident.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“My grandparents took in my sister. I pulled away—even from Stasia. I felt angry that I had been robbed of the chance to ever fix what had been broken between me and my parents. And I felt guilty that I’d ignored my mother’s repeated pleadings for me to come home. I knew my father would be there and I didn’t know what to say to him. And in the end, I don’t think he knew what to say to me, either.”
