Page 68 of Reckless Liar

I could feel his eyes on me as I scrubbed the pans. He cleared his throat, a tone of surprise in his voice. “Is this our first fight as a couple?”

I didn’t correct him referring to us as a couple. It was hardly the time for semantics. That was a completely different fight, and I could barely stand this argument over dirty pans.

“I know it may not matter to you, but after the kind of day I had, all I wanted was to come home and not worry about more work.”

“I know how you are about keeping the place clean. You asked me to do the dishes and I didn’t do it. It’s my fault.”

The foreign words rippled over me. I wondered what it would’ve taken for Max to apologize for something. So much more than dishes, I knew that.

I knew the reason Max wouldn’t say sorry for anything. Apologizing for something meant taking responsibility for the effect his actions had on other people, and that kind of weight was never something Max could bear. I didn’t trust Xander’s apology. I was waiting for the follow-up of why it was my fault too.

When I didn’t say anything, he kept talking, his words tumbling over each other in a rush. “Look, I’m not perfect. I make mistakes too. I know I should’ve done the dishes like you asked me to, but I forgot and then I got excited about the idea of taking you out on a date and I forgot again. It’s an innocent mistake.” He paused, cocking his head to the side. “But just so you know, I’m going to make this mistake again. It’s unavoidable. We’re going to have this fight again.”

“Whatever,” I muttered, turning away from him. I didn’t want to watch him leave the way I knew he would, the way Max would. At any minute I expected him to stomp off in a huff. “Why don’t you go then?”

“Go where?” he asked, his voice incredulous. I pulled the drain plug out and watched the water go down. “Do you want me to go?”

“No,” I mumbled. I hated this feeling—the anger inside me, the doubt of how valid my feelings were, this shame in the reaction I was causing in Xander. The way I was making him leave me. This was surely it. He had to realize if I was going to go off over a few dirty dishes, I was hardly worth sticking around for.

“Then, why would I go?”

Slowly I turned my body toward him. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t handle seeing the rejection on his face.

“Because we’re fighting, and that’s what people do. We fight, then someone leaves. That’s how it works.”

I expected him to storm off but instead he leaned against the counter, crossing his feet at the ankles. “That’s not at all how it works.”

I glanced up at him. Did he not understand how fights between couples went? I was a master of this kind of thing. “Uh, yeah, it is. That’s what...” I bit my lips before I finished my sentence.

He tensed his jaw as my words trailed off. His words were low between clenched teeth. “I don’t know how many times I need to say this to you, but I’m not Max.”

“Yeah, I know,” I scoffed. “I am well aware of that.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. I prepared for whatever barb he was going to sling my way. He stood straight, took the two strides across the room to stand in front of me. He grabbed my arms, not roughly, but hard enough to pull me closer to him.

“However you think relationships work, what worked or didn’t work with you and Max, that is not me. That will not be us.”

I stared up at him, perplexed. How could he think I didn’t know how relationships worked? I was in one for years. I knew exactly how these things worked.

“We’re going to have problems. Everyone has problems. You and I are going to fight. I’m going to forget to do the dishes and that’ll piss you off. You’ll do things that make me mad. I’m not saying this is going to be perfect between us. But whatever issues we have, will beours. Do you understand?”

Dumbstruck, I nodded.

He let go of my arms, stepping back. “Good. That’s good.”

I wrapped my arms around myself, looking down at the floor. My face felt hot, confusion pulsed through me. “I don’t know what we’re doing, Xander,” I whispered. “I don’t know how to do this with you.”

His face softened and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to him. “Well for one, don’t tell me to leave unless you want me to leave.”

Slowly, I wrapped my arms around his waist, taking in the scent of soap on his skin. Without my shoes I barely came up to his shoulder. I closed my eyes and felt the soft fabric of his shirt against my cheek. “I don’t want you to leave.”

He rested his chin on top of my head, sighing loudly. “Look, I’m not going to act like I have all the answers about how to do this. But you need to know that you can talk to me. You don’t have to be ashamed of getting mad at me.” His fingers traced little circles on my back.

“I’m sorry I got mad,” I whispered.

“Don’t be.” He pulled away, looking down at me. “Why don’t you shower, and I’ll get us some takeout instead. Sound good?”

I nodded against his shoulder, taking one last breath of him before pulling away. “You’re too good to me.”

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