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Chapter Fifty-Five

Maggie

Y ou fucking knew I'd disappoint you.

Those words, uttered in a hollowed-out voice, make sense of everything now. And I can't believe I didn't see it before—the obvious way Xavier has been pushing me away because, in his mind, I was always going to leave him anyway. It's what his parents did… a string of nannies when he was a kid… so many people he was attached to turned from him the moment things got messy, or he didn't fulfill whatever role he was expected to live up to.

But couldn't he tell I was different? That we were different, together?

His close friends—Seb, and Scarlett, and Jackie—they didn’t turn away, and he let them in. Why couldn’t he let me be like one of them?

But then, I guess those friendships don't require the same level of vulnerability I'm asking of him. They take Xave as he is and accept there's a limit to how much of his walls he's willing to let down. And that he's far more comfortable being there for others than allowing others to be there for him. I'm not sure his friends even realize what that wall is shielding them from. That it's his shame he's hiding. Heavy and oppressive, consuming him beneath the easy swagger, and confidence, and laid-back demeanor.

But this thing with us—the relationship we've started—it's an unchartered level of vulnerability for him, because I am pushing him to lower the wall. To reveal the shame. To share parts of himself that probably feel like ripping off years of carefully sealed protective layers.

More vulnerability and more trust means more risk. And more damage. Because, in his world, taking risks is met with shunning and mockery.

So, I have a feeling it's like muscle memory for him at this point: push before you’re pushed. Leave before you’re left. Just because there have been a couple of exceptions, doesn’t mean it isn’t a pattern. I mean, God—I watched him do it the entire first few weeks I was hired as Finn's nanny. Knew the pattern of him doing it for years before that.Even witnessed the way he internalized his father’s words—words he’d obviously heard a hundred times before. And that have fossilized into truth for him over time.

It's so obvious now, what he was doing last night, reverting to the shallowest version of himself—testing, consciously or not, if he was right. If he is worth staying for. Or if he is the disappointment he truly believes himself to be.

My mom got really annoyed with me when I told her Xavier Rockwell wasn't capable of loving, pointedly asking me what he's like with his brother. And she's right, I have never seen a guy love anyone as fiercely as Xave loves Finny. Then to double-down, she asked if he takes me on dates or plans special outings for me, asked me how I'd come to learn so much about astronomy. Because she already knew the answer.

Xave is stellar at loving people—he just believes he isn't. Just like he believes he isn't capable of being loved. And I reinforced those feelings even more.

But I'm determined to change that.

And I hope more than anything that I'm not too late.