Page 60 of Wild Heart
I didn’t want to get my hopes up. After what happened yesterday, it was difficult to feel any sense of optimism where Ava was concerned.
Maybe this was a Christmas miracle.
With my eyes still on hers, I quickly reminded myself of everything that had happened recently. The idea that this conversation Ava wanted to have would be good was foolish.
But since I couldn’t bring myself to do anything to disappoint her again, I dipped my chin and said, “Sure.”
Ava jerked her head to the side. “I know it’s cold out, but I’d like some privacy, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. We can just grab our coats.”
It was Christmas morning, and to this point, it felt like the worst one yet. I was exhausted from being unable to sleep last night, with Ava’s words from earlier in the day replaying in my mind all night long.
I’d hoped that the gift I’d given her yesterday would have been the perfect way to start smoothing things over between us. It was awful to learn just how wrong I’d been.
Now, I couldn’t begin to imagine what Ava wanted to discuss with me, if it was even wise for the two of us to be alone after our recent encounters. But despite how strained things had been between us, she still meant everything to me. I’d give her whatever she wanted.
Once we were bundled up and outside, away from the rest of the family, Ava’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “I’m sorry.”
Every muscle in my body tensed. Surely, I’d misheard her. “What?”
“I’m sorry, Tate. I’m sorry for how I behaved yesterday.”
Yesterday had been the absolute worst. I could still hear her telling me she wouldn’t be able to give me the chance to make things right until it no longer hurt for her to look at me. It had been like taking a bullet to the heart.
“I appreciate you saying that. I understand why you were upset, Ava. It was never my intention to hurt you. Not then, not ever. And for that, I’m sorry, too.”
She swallowed hard and looked away as she swiped at a tear that had fallen using her mitten. When she returned her attention to me, the tears still welling in her eyes, she explained, “Things happened the way they did yesterday, and it was a lot coming at me. I don’t think it helped that everyone knows thingsare bad between us, and they all got to witness it. But what I did was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
I wondered if she was crying because she was sorry about what happened or if it still hurt too much to look at me. I could only assume it was both. “It’s okay,” I assured her. “I’m not mad at you.”
“It’s not okay, Tate. I feel horrible for throwing the nice things you did for me in your face,” she argued. “I talked to both your mom and Ivy later last night before I left, and I learned some stuff.”
My brows drew together. “What stuff?”
“Your mom apologized to me, because she didn’t know that you had drawn my name. I guess she felt responsible for me getting upset and you being humiliated by how I reacted. And Ivy let me know that you talked to her after you saw me at The Mixing Bowl. She told me you had asked about me looking for an apartment, because you wanted to get me something for my new place. I shouldn’t have made assumptions about your gift having some alternate meaning than face value.”
Suddenly, it all made sense.
While I could understand it was awkward that I’d gotten Ava in the Secret Santa exchange, I couldn’t quite wrap my head around why she’d been so upset by what I’d gotten her.
But now, I got it.
Home is where the heart is. She thought I was trying to throw her leaving Landing in her face.
“I realize I screwed up the day you came back to Landing, Ava. I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive myself for talking to you the way I did. I’m so sorry about that. But I promise you that, despite how awful that was, I’m not looking for ways to hurt, upset, or embarrass you. I really do want to fix this.”
She chewed nervously on her lip, her eyes darting every which way. If I could have looked inside her mind, I was sureI wouldn’t be able to keep up with her racing thoughts. “Things changed the night of the wedding,” she said. “I’d made my last-ditch effort to go after you, to have that one night with you. I knew I wasn’t coming back after the tour, regardless of whether you chose to take me up on my offer that night or not.”
“That’s why you said you’d never ask or offer again, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
My chin tilted down, and I frowned. An overwhelming sense of heaviness had washed over me, and the strain in my voice was undeniable. “I wish you would have told me.”
“Why?”
“Because everything would have been different. I would have done things differently,” I told her, taking a step closer.