Chapter 230 - 0230: That Was A Lifetime Ago

Chapter 230: Chapter 0230: That Was A Lifetime Ago

Elena’s Point Of View

His words hit me like a physical blow.

"I refuse for that to happen again."

I froze, my eyes widening, my breath catching in my throat, my heart suddenly pounding so hard I could feel it in my ears. My hands were still looped around his neck, but they’d gone rigid, my fingers stiff and my knuckles white. My entire body tensed, every muscle locking up, every nerve ending alive with something I couldn’t name, something between fear and exhilaration, between confusion and desperation. Somewhere beneath all of it sat a small, traitorous flicker of relief, the kind I refused to examine too closely.

Because he didn’t say it like a man making a suggestion. He said it like a verdict, like something he’d already decided, something he’d already promised himself, something he was now promising me whether I was ready for it or not.

"What..." My mind tried to form the word, but my throat felt too tight for sound. What the hell did he mean by that? What the hell did he mean by that?

My gaze flicked across his face like I could find the answer in the hard line of his jaw, in the shadow cutting his cheekbones, in the cold fire sitting behind his eyes. Jaxx didn’t just say things... he meant them. He always had, even back when I was too young and too stubborn to understand what that cost him.

And the way he was looking at me right now wasn’t playful and it wasn’t teasing. It was controlled, too controlled, the kind of control that scared me more than any anger ever could, because anger burned out eventually. This felt like it had no intention of burning out at all.

My mind raced, thoughts tumbling over each other, chaotic and frantic. Was he going crazy? Was I going crazy? Was this some kind of game? Was he serious? Was I still half-asleep, trapped in some fever dream where Jaxx, Jaxx of all people, was saying things like this to me?

Because this wasn’t the Jaxx I knew. The Jaxx I knew didn’t speak like he cared what something meant. He cared about results, about outcomes, about winning. And yet the way he said it landed too deep, too close to the places in me I’d spent years trying to seal shut.

I tried to swallow, but my mouth had gone dry. I tried to breathe, but my lungs felt too tight, and I tried to think, but my brain was a storm of what the fuck and oh my God and this can’t be real. I needed to say something. I needed to demand answers. I needed...

His hand shot up, his fingers pressing gently but firmly against my lips, silencing me before I could even open my mouth.

The simple touch should’ve been easy to ignore. It wasn’t. It was warm and steady and certain, like he knew exactly what I was about to do before I even did it. My breath hitched, my eyes snapping back to his, and he held my gaze without flinching, not even a twitch, not even a crack. I had the unsettling sense that he could read every argument forming behind my eyes before I’d even finished building it.

"I know what you’re about to say, Elena," he murmured, his voice low, rough, dripping with a kind of finality that made my stomach twist.

My heartbeat stuttered, and his thumb brushed over my bottom lip, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring the feel of me, like he was memorizing it. It shouldn’t have felt like that... just a thumb, a touch, a quiet moment. But it felt like he was marking a boundary he wasn’t going to let me cross. My chest tightened again, my hands gripping his shoulders like they were the only thing holding me upright, like without them I might simply dissolve into the floor.

"’This was a mistake, Jaxx,’" he said, his voice dropping into a dark, almost mocking imitation of mine, like he could hear the words before I even said them, like he’d heard them before, like he was done hearing them.

The breath that left me wasn’t a sigh. It was a shaky, helpless sound I didn’t mean to make, because he was right. That was exactly what I was about to say. It was the safest thing I could say, the simplest thing, the excuse that always worked, the one that let me walk away with my heart intact and my pride stitched back together.

"You’ve said it twice before," he went on, the words landing like stones dropped one by one into still water. "Once three weeks ago, with your face buried in my pillow at four in the morning while you were getting dressed in the dark. And once by text, the next day, before you blocked me for six hours and then unblocked me at midnight to ask if I’d eaten." His eyes didn’t leave mine. "I remember all of it, Elena. Every word. Every escape. I kept count."

My eyes burned, and I hated that they did, hated the way my body reacted to him even while my mind spun in circles trying to protect me from whatever this was. I hated, too, that he’d noticed the midnight text, the one I’d told myself didn’t mean anything, the one I’d convinced myself he’d probably forgotten.

"But I’m not going to let you pass this off as a mistake again," he continued, his gaze burning into mine, unyielding and possessive. "Because it wasn’t, Elena."

My heart stopped. Not dramatically, not poetically. It just paused, like it was waiting for my brain to catch up.

His voice didn’t rise, and he didn’t shout and he didn’t plead, because Jaxx didn’t plead. He simply stated it like he was laying down the rules of a world I hadn’t realized I’d stepped into, a world with different borders and different laws than the one I’d been living in for years.

"You can’t give yourself to me the way you did..." His voice dropped, darker and rougher, his free hand sliding down to grip my waist, his fingers digging in just enough to feel me, to hold me, to claim me. "...and call that a mistake."

I couldn’t breathe. The way his fingers pressed into me, firm and solid, felt like an anchor, like he was keeping me from floating away into panic, like he was making sure I stayed here with him, in this moment, to hear every word and feel every syllable.

My lips parted, but nothing came out and I couldn’t move. The air in the room felt thick and charged, as if the walls were listening, as if even the shadows were holding their breath, waiting to see which one of us would break first.

"I won’t continue to be a mistake to you, Elena," he growled, his voice a dark, filthy promise, his eyes blazing with something I’d never seen before, something raw and real that made my entire body ache.

That was what shattered me. Not his words, not his grip, not the heat of him pressed against me. It was the fact that he sounded done... done with my escapes, done with my running, done with the way I always tried to erase what we were the moment it started to feel too real. Done, too, I realized with a small jolt, in a way that sounded less like giving up and more like digging in.

My throat bobbed as I swallowed hard. I tried to speak, I tried to think, I tried to understand, but I couldn’t, because what the hell was happening? What the hell was he saying? What the hell did he mean?

My mouth hung open, my mind spinning, my body trembling against his. I stared at him, searching his face, searching his eyes, searching for some sign that this was a joke or a game or anything but what it sounded like. But there was nothing. No smirk, no amusement, no lie. Just Jaxx, steady and unreadable, staring at me like he’d made a decision and there was no point arguing with it.

And the strangest part was that he still didn’t look vulnerable, not even now. There wasn’t a crack in him, no shaking hands, no desperate softness, no sweet confession, nothing that would make it easy for me to label this as emotion and dismiss it as temporary. This wasn’t softness. This was resolve, cold and hard and immovable, the kind a man like him would allow himself. The kind that didn’t come with open arms and gentle words... it came with ownership, with territory, with lines in the sand. Just Jaxx, raw and unfiltered and real, staring at me like he’d stripped himself bare, like he was daring me to do the same.

"Say something, Bambina," he said quietly, and it was the closest thing to gentleness he’d given me all morning, which somehow made it worse. "You’re allowed."

"I don’t..." My voice cracked and died. I swallowed, tried again. "I don’t know what you want me to say."

"Yes, you do. You’ve known for ten years. You just don’t want to say it out loud because then it becomes real, and real things can be lost." His thumb stilled on my lip. "I’ve got news for you, princess. It’s been real since you were sixteen."

"Don’t," I whispered.

"Don’t what?"

"Don’t do that. Don’t talk about... back then. You don’t get to use that. That was a lifetime ago. We were different people, we..."

"We were the same people," he said, flat and certain. "Just younger and more honest. You used to look at me like you weren’t scared of what it meant. Then you married him, and you learned to look at everything like it might hurt you."

My chest caved. "Jaxx..."

"And that’s the last time you say my name like an apology," he said. "It’s not an apology. It’s my name. You came looking for it last night in your sleep, and you found it."

And then... then I finally found my voice, and it came out as a whisper, broken and breathless and desperate.

"What..." My voice cracked, and I swallowed and tried again. "What are you driving at, Jaxx?"