Chapter 5

What Guilt Feels Like

Nathan was waiting in the living room when I walked through the door.

He wasn’t sitting. He was standing by the window with his arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes fixed on me the second I stepped inside. The air in the apartment felt heavy, like a storm had been building while I was gone.

“Where were you?”

I set my bag down carefully. “I told you. Coffee with an old coworker.”

“For three hours?”

“We lost track of time.”

Nathan let out a short, ugly laugh. “You’ve been different for days, Aria. Distracted. Quiet. And now you’re disappearing for hours and coming home looking like…” He stopped and dragged a hand through his hair. “Like someone else touched you.”

My stomach dropped. I forced my face to stay blank.

“You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” He stepped closer. “Take off your sweater.”

“What?”

“Take it off. I want to see your neck.”

Heat crawled up my chest. The marks Xavier left were still there, dark against my skin. I had covered them with makeup that morning, but under the harsh living room light they would show.

“Nathan, this is crazy.”

“Do it.”

Something in his voice made my hands move. I pulled the sweater over my head and stood there in my thin camisole. Nathan’s eyes locked on the bruises. The silence that followed was worse than shouting.

“Who is he?”

“There is no one.”

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice cracked on the last word. For the first time I saw real pain in his face, and it made something ugly twist inside me. He had no right to look hurt. Not after eight months of fucking my best friend.

Anger rose fast and hot.

“You want to talk about lying?” I asked quietly. “Fine. Let’s talk about Chicago. Let’s talk about all those late nights and business trips. Let’s talk about why you haven’t touched me properly in months.”

Nathan’s face went pale. “That’s not—”

“Save it.” I grabbed my sweater off the floor. “I’m going out.”

“Aria—”

I didn’t let him finish. I walked out and slammed the door hard enough to rattle the frame.

The hallway felt too bright. My hands were shaking. I made it to the elevator before the first tear slipped out.

I wiped it away angrily. I refused to cry for him. Not after what he had done.

My phone was already in my hand.

Aria: I’m coming over.

Xavier replied in seconds.

Xavier: Door’s open.

I took a cab. The city blurred past the window in streaks of light. My chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped a fist around my lungs and refused to let go. Anger and guilt and something sharper tangled together until I couldn’t tell them apart.

Xavier opened the door before I knocked. One look at my face and his expression changed.

“What happened?”

“He saw the marks.” My voice came out uneven. “He knows something’s wrong.”

Xavier stepped aside. I walked in and kept going until I reached the windows. The city stretched out below, indifferent. I pressed my forehead to the cool glass and closed my eyes.

Behind me, I heard the door shut. Then footsteps. Xavier didn’t touch me right away. He just stood close enough that I could feel the heat of him.

“Talk to me.”

“I almost told him.” The confession slipped out before I could stop it. “I wanted to throw Lila in his face. I wanted to watch him break the way I did.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I’m not ready for this to be over.” I turned to face him. “And that scares me more than anything.”

Xavier’s eyes searched mine. For once there was no cold calculation there. Just quiet intensity.

“Come here.”

I didn’t move. He closed the distance himself and pulled me against his chest. His arms wrapped around me, solid and warm. I stood stiff for a second, then the fight drained out of me. My face pressed into his shirt.

He smelled like clean cotton and something darker that was just him.

“I hate him,” I whispered. “I hate her. And I hate that I keep coming back here like this is the only place that makes sense.”

Xavier’s hand slid up my back, slow and steady. “You’re allowed to hate them. You’re allowed to use me. That’s the bargain.”

“It doesn’t feel like just a bargain anymore.”

The words hung between us. Xavier didn’t deny them.

He just held me tighter.

After a long moment he pulled back enough to look at me. His thumb brushed a tear off my cheek that I hadn’t realized had fallen.

“You’re shaking.”

“I know.”

He kissed me then. Soft at first, almost careful. The gentleness undid me more than any rough touch could have. I kissed him back like I was starving for it. The anger and the hurt and the confusion poured out of me and into him.

Xavier walked me backward toward the couch without breaking the kiss. We sank down together. His hands framed my face. Mine twisted in his shirt.

When he finally pulled away, we were both breathing hard.

“I keep waiting to feel guilty about this,” I said. “About you. But all I feel is guilty that I don’t.”

Xavier rested his forehead against mine. “Guilt is for people who still care about the rules. You and I burned those the night we made this deal.”

I let out a shaky breath. “Nathan looked at me like I was the one who destroyed everything.”

“He destroyed it first.”

“I know. But it still hurts.”

Xavier was quiet for a second. Then he said, “Stay here tonight. Not because of the bargain. Because you need it.”

I nodded against him.

We didn’t move for a long time. His fingers traced slow patterns on my back. My heartbeat gradually slowed to match his. The knot in my chest loosened by degrees.

Eventually Xavier stood and pulled me up with him. He led me to the bedroom without another word. This time there was no urgency. He undressed me slowly, like he was memorizing every inch. When I reached for his shirt, he let me take it off. My hands mapped the hard lines of his chest, the faint scars, the warmth of his skin.

He laid me down on the bed and followed. His mouth moved over me with a patience that felt new. He kissed the bruises on my neck, the ones on my hips, the soft skin of my stomach. Every touch said the same thing. You’re here. You’re safe. You’re mine for now.

When he finally pushed inside me, it was slow and deep. I wrapped my legs around him and held on. We moved together without speaking. The only sounds were soft breaths and the quiet shift of sheets.

I came with my face pressed to his shoulder, eyes stinging. Xavier followed a moment later, burying his face in my neck and whispering my name like it cost him something.

Afterward he pulled me against his chest and kept me there. His fingers combed through my hair. I listened to his heartbeat and tried not to think about the apartment waiting for me across the city.

“What happens when this ends?” I asked into the dark.

Xavier’s hand stilled. “Who says it has to end?”

I didn’t answer. I wasn’t ready for that conversation yet.

Sleep came in fragments. Every time I drifted off, I woke to the feel of Xavier’s arm locked around my waist, solid and real. The third time I opened my eyes, the sky outside was turning gray.

Xavier was already awake, watching me.

“Morning,” he said quietly.

“Hi.”

He brushed a strand of hair off my face. “You don’t have to go back today.”

“I do. If I disappear completely, he’ll force the truth out faster than we’re ready for.”

Xavier’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Then we do this my way. You go home. You act normal. And tonight you come back here. No more sneaking around at dawn. You leave when I say it’s time.”

“Okay.”

He kissed me once, firm and final. “Get dressed. I’ll drive you as far as the corner.”

I moved through the motions on autopilot. Clothes. Hair. The small tube of concealer I now carried everywhere. Xavier watched me from the bed, eyes dark and unreadable.

At the door he caught my wrist.

“Aria.”

I looked up.

“Whatever he says today, remember who broke the vows first. You’re not the villain in this story.”

The words settled somewhere deep in my chest. I nodded once, then left before I could do something stupid like stay.

The apartment was quiet when I returned. Nathan’s bag was still by the couch. I found him in the kitchen staring at a cup of coffee that had gone cold.

He looked up when I entered. The anger from yesterday was still there, but underneath it was something rawer.

“We need to talk,” he said.

I pulled out a chair and sat down. My pulse was steady.

For the first time in days, I felt ready.

“I’m listening.”