He had thought long and hard on the weeks approaching the trip about what he was going to say and how he was going to convince her to marry him, still fearing he was going to lose her. Taking her left hand in his, he held it, lacing his fingers with hers hoping that he could hold the same hand until it was older and wiser.
Running his thumb down her long fingers idly, the precise speech he had prepared abandoned him. It was as if it all disappeared right over the cliff they were sitting on and he really needed it to come back. But the more he mulled it over, the more he was convinced the words would never come. The moon shining brighter as the sky fell darker, he knew he had to do it in this moment. So his words would just have to come from the heart.
“Liv?”
“Hmm?” she asked, coming out of her euphoric trance.
“I need you to know how much I love you,” he said, still lacing his fingers through hers. Looking down over her face, he could see her smile. Bending her head back against his chest, she looked up at him, eyes blue and a smile spreading across her face.
“I never grew up knowing what love was,” he muttered staring into her eyes deeper. His fear slowly disappearing at how she was looking at him.
Yes.
She was meant to be his.
“Until I found you.” He leaned down, placing a small kiss on her forehead. Sitting up, she turned in front of him, cupping his face. Ready to say something, he placed a finger over her lips stopping her. He needed to get this out.
“Will you get lost with me on the top of cliffs and watch sunsets and let me hold you for the rest of your life?” he asked looking into her eyes, watching as what he was suggesting register inside her pretty little mind.
“Marry me, Liv.”
Taking her hand, he slipped the diamond onto her finger as her eyes darted between him and the ring. The custom made four-carat emerald shined in the dim light, the two bands of diamonds surrounding it, shining even brighter. It looked incredible on her, just like he knew it would. It was unique and a one of a kind, just like the woman wearing it.
“Yes,” she breathed, looking up at him, her blue eyes filling with tears. “Yes, yes, of course,” she yelled hysterically, crashing into his mouth. Grabbing the back of her head, he deepened the kiss, her response still processing inside his head. She said yes. And so quickly. And so many times.
She was going to be his…always.
Jax waited for her to look at him, but she didn’t. She just continued to watch the ocean sway back and forth and he noticed a tear escape the corner of her eye. Catching it quickly, she wiped it away angrily.
“Liv, we need to talk,” he insisted gently, reaching for her hand. He needed to get this out now because he couldn’t take much more; and he would be damned if she was going to cry any more tears because of him. He had caused her enough pain already.
“No, we don’t,” she whispered, moving away from him as if she somehow already knew what he was going to say; her face flipping from pain to panic.
“Damn it, Liv, just talk to me!” he demanded louder than he anticipated, getting frustrated. He wasn’t about to let her run away again.
“Why?!” she shouted, wrapping her arms around herself.
“Because I need to explain to you why I left.”
Taking a step closer, he didn’t take his eyes off of her. He could see the pain on her face, her beautiful lip trembling, always so damn insistent on being strong all the time. He just wanted to hold her. To take away all the tears and all the hurt that he knew he had put there.
“It doesn’t matter,” she shook her head, turning towards the bedroom.
“It damn well does matter!”
Why did this woman have to be so hard headed all the time? Taking a deep breath he calmed himself. He didn’t want to yell and he didn’t want to freak out, he just wanted to talk, desperately talk.
“You need to let me explain, Liv,” he said quieter. “It will all make sense if you just hear me out, I promise.”
“HA!” She threw her hands up in the air, laughing at him without humor, her voice cracking. “What makes you think that you have any right to sit here and feed me some delusional story about why you walked out on our family?” she asked, getting angrier.
Angry was okay.
He could handle anger.
Anger was better than crying.
“Because the way I see it Jax, is that the one time,” she shouted pointing at him, “that I really needed you, you just up and left,” she said shaking her head. “You just left us like it was the easiest decision you have ever made.”
The last sentence ripping his insides, he closed his eyes. She was right. He had left her when she needed him the most. And it wasn’t easy or difficult, or even agonizing. It was excruciating and numbing.
“That’s not true,” he said, stopping in front of her. “I did it for you!”
Silence falling between them, he looked into her fiery gaze as a mass of emotions danced across her face. He’d give anything to know what she was thinking in that exact moment, what her next move was so that he could ensure he was prepared for it in case she pushed him away again.
“For me?” she finally spoke, cutting the silence. “You did it for me?” she repeated. “Why in the world would you ever think that abandoning me when I needed you the most would be good for me? No. You know what, don’t even answer that,” she ordered, cutting him off before he had a chance to answer. Shaking her head she walked towards the bedroom door.
“Because I was the reason you were falling apart,” he admitted. “And I’ll be damned if I destroy you the way my father destroyed my mother,” he said quietly, not allowing himself to look at her. He had no right to look at her. To expect her forgiveness or hell, even hear him out. He would never do anything to hurt her or the girls, that’s why leaving them was the best decision at the time. But standing there, watching just how badly he had destroyed her, he felt selfish. Selfish to ask her for anything, least of all a chance to explain himself.
“I can’t do this.” She trembled walking into the bedroom, coming back with a blanket and pillows in her arms, throwing them on the couch. “Do you want the bed or the couch?”
More silence filled the room, the slow rumble of the air conditioner the only sound between them, and he realized she wasn’t going to talk anymore. She had put her guard up again and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Sighing in frustration he resigned to his fate on the couch. From the guest bed to the couch. What was next, the doghouse?
“Couch is fine,” he said, slamming down on the cushions covered in pillows in defeat. Nodding tersely, she walked back towards the bedroom.
“You know that I love you, Liv.”
It was all he could say because he needed to be certain that she still knew how he felt about her. Had always felt about her. That he loved her so much and that she was his priority, always had been and that all he ever wanted was to make her happy.
Stopping in the doorframe, she gripped the sides in silence, looking over her shoulder.
“Yes, well I learned at a young age that people who say they love you still leave.”
* * *
Stumbling over to the bed, Alivia collapsed against the lush comforter releasing her tears, allowing them to fall onto the beautiful plush pillows, masking her sobs so Jax couldn’t hear. She didn’t need him knowing how badly he had hurt her. How badly it still hurt. She had been so focused on getting healthy again and taking care of the girls that she avoided the complete depth of how severely he had broken her. How much it ripped her apart when he never came home and stayed away. All she ever wanted in life was to raise her babies, create beautiful things and spend her days with Jax. And for a short time, she had. Supposing that it was more than most ever had. She dedicated herself to her family and friends, fixing and perfecting all she could because nobody would ever walk away from perfection, right? Swallowing the lump in her throat, she let the tears continue without wiping them away, givi
ng them permission to fall in the most therapeutic way.
Lifting her head, she stared at the bedroom door. How could he think he was the cause of her breakdown? Why would he put that burden on himself? Yes, being an athlete’s wife had its obligations and difficulties and at times was overwhelming, but the Mavericks were family to her. She was so proud of Jax and his career that she would be willing to do anything to support him.
And she had.
Leaving his family on the assumption that he was the problem without even asking her, seemed drastic. She knew he hadn’t had it easy growing up, witnessing things from his father that left scars in their wake, but Jax wasn’t his father. He could never be anything like his father. He was too good, too kind, fiercely protective and loyal to a fault.
Wiping her face, she closed her eyes mulling over his words.
I’d be damned if I destroyed you the way my father destroyed my mother.
How could he ever think that staying by her side would destroy her? Him leaving, that’s what destroyed her. She knew she should have listened and allowed him to enlighten her on his ridiculous ways of thinking, but it was too much. It was all just too much. She desperately wanted to erase the last year and fix their family, to forget the raw pain of him pushing her away, but before she had a chance to figure out exactly how she was going to do just that; the ache and the confusion consumed her, numbing her fast asleep.
* * *
Dropping his face into his hands, Jax rubbed his head. That had certainly not gone as planned. Going to the mini fridge, he opened the door, but instead of a soda he reached for the whiskey this time. Pouring the amber liquid into a crystal glass he chewed over the past ten minutes.
Liv was hurting.
Badly.
The idea that he was the cause of such angst was driving him absolutely nuts, his insides feeling like they were being ripped out slowly. He had royally fucked up and he knew that, but if he were being completely honest, he felt justified making the sacrifice and leaving because she did, in fact, get healthy again. Or did she? He would have done whatever it took to see her smile again, and the fact remained that the longer he stayed away, the better she became and it killed him knowing that he was the root of her unhappiness. And here he was again, making her cry and putting that pain right back into those pair of blue eyes he’d lay his life down for, and most days he felt like he already had.
Taking a swig of his whiskey, he grazed over to the window eyeing the black sky. No matter how hard he fought it, he feared that history was repeating itself. That he was becoming his father and even though he left Liv because he refused to destroy her, it was happening anyway.
Jack Monaghan was a legend. An NFL football legend, that is, because to his family he had been nothing more than a selfish prick who had ruined everyone close to him. Growing up, Jax had learned that only having his father for six months out of the entire year came with the territory of having a father who played professional ball. He hadn’t minded though, he idolized his father and was proud that his dad was a professional athlete, admired around the world by so many. Nights had been spent at the stadium cheering him on at home games or watching away games from the television in lieu of finishing homework; but it was what they had needed to do to support his father’s career because that came first and everyone else came second. Grasping the concept at the bold age of seven, that if he wanted love and attention from his father that he needed to impress the man with his own talents on the field. His father had drilled into him the nights that he had actually been home that Jax needed to be the best and to never dare embarrass the Monaghan name. So instead of pool parties and disappearing on his bike for hours with neighborhood friends, he had worked with coaches to become the best quarterback in junior league with the hopes of following in his father’s footsteps. The saddest part of it all was that he had actually idolized the man and had wanted to be just like him. To have a career and a family of his own one day. And he would. As long as he pushed himself enough.
Problem was the bastard had never around. He spent more time signing autographs for other little boys than he had spent actually talking to his own kid, while treating Jax’s sweet mother like garbage, yet, still expecting them all to play the role of the perfect family supporting his father’s career recognition. Of course that was before everything had changed. That fateful night during a game against the Bears, his father had lined up to throw another beauty of a pass, something Jax had watched him do a million times before. Getting sacked by a vicious linebacker shatterring his shoulder, it was the crack heard around the world and everyone knew from that moment forward, that the record-breaking, game-changing legend, Jack Monaghan, would never fully recover. Of course nobody had told him that and shortly after the accident he had received the news that not only had the team been concerned with his age, but they weren’t confident in his ability to return to the game, while the second string quarterback who had spent all of his professional career in Jack’s shadow had stepped up and had been on a hot streak. It was a tale as old as time and instead of taking the news like a man and appreciating almost eleven years in the league and securing a coveted spot in the Hall of Fame, his father had turned to drinking. Lots and lots of drinking.
Bad news from agents had been taken out on his mother’s face or Jax’s body. Loose women had become a popular thing as well. By age sixteen, finding his mother crying inside the laundry room folding his laundry or watching her sit in the car in the driveway crying into the steering wheel became a part of his daily routine. She had claimed that everything would get better. That his father just needed them to keep up appearances if he had any hopes of securing a job after leaving the field for good. He never understood why his mother had stayed and put up with all the emotional abuse. She had been delusional.
After graduation, he hadn’t wasted a second leaving for college. After accepting a full ride to the University of Florida to play ball, he took it without blinking. He couldn’t watch his father destroy what was left of their family. What was left of his mother. During his freshman year, he would fly to Denver during the holidays to check on her. His father had secured a coaching job with the Broncos, but that hadn’t meant anything had changed. Nobody but Jax ever saw the real scars that his mother had carried around. Heavy drinking had taken flight too. He had smelled it on her.
Despite his endless attempts to convince her to come to Florida with him, she had declined, his anxiety of leaving her escalating with each trip. When his mother wanted to leave, he’d be the first one helping her pack her bags, but she hadn’t been ready and he couldn’t force her.
By junior year, the pattern of excessive drinking and depression finally took over the beautiful, endearing mother he had once known. Returning home, his stomach would turn, weary of what he was walking into. After a nine hour flight after his last game of the season, he had found her on the living room floor, barely conscious and lethargic. Finding his father sipping coffee on the back deck, he confronted the bastard about his mother’s drinking as years and years of anger and rage laced with resentment poured out of him. A screaming match that had quickly escalated into a fist fight resulting in him putting his old man through their dining room wall. After his mother still refused to leave, Jax had stormed out the screen door, never looking back or speaking to his father again. He had called his mother three times a week and had urged her to get help and move down with him, but as long as she was under his father’s thumb, she wouldn’t dare go against the creep.
He had flown out to Denver over Thanksgiving break the following fall only because he knew his father would be in Saint Louis for a game. After taking his mother out to dinner that night, she had finally admitted to being severely depressed and that all the years of emotional abuse, high expectations, and pain from being married to his father had ensued upon her. He remembered hugging her as she cried breaking his heart with each tear that stained his shirt and promised that he was going to get her help. To get her what she needed
to be healthy again.
The next morning he had woken up to make the two of them breakfast, feeling good about his mother’s admission and was relieved that she was finally going to let him get her the help she needed. Maybe with some more coaxing, he could even convince her to move down to Florida while he finished up his last two years of playing ball. A life without the asshole. When he had went to wake her for breakfast, he found her in bed sleeping peacefully. The only indication that something was wrong had been the empty bottle of vodka on her night stand and the bottle of prescription pills mixed in her sheets.
His mother was gone.
His beautiful, sweet, mother was gone because of the emotional toll his father had put upon her. He had destroyed her. He was a greedy prick that used whoever he needed to further himself instead of being a real man who put his family first. Selfishness that had costed Jax his family.
The weeks following his mother’s death had been a blur and when he packed his bags to leave after the funeral, he had realized he hadn’t had anybody left. He hadn’t spoken to his father since the day he went barreling out of his parent’s house. No siblings or cousins, uncles or grandparents to turn to. His father had made good and sure to exile everyone from their lives. Anyone that hadn’t served a higher purpose to Jack had been disposable.
False Start (Mavericks #1) Page 16
