Chapter 313: _ Say It
Axel didn’t answer.
I stepped closer, not able to help my tone but to keep it low. "What experience?"
He finally looked at me. There was pain in his eyes, but also distance. Cold. Like he’d built walls I hadn’t even noticed.
"The kind that teaches you not to trust too easily," he shrugged dully. "The kind where you walk into a room and hear laughter and..." He stopped. Shook his head. "Forget it. I don’t want to talk about this."
Argh, not again!
"No." I grabbed his arm. "You don’t get to throw something like that and then walk away. Say it. Say what you’re thinking."
"I’m tired, María José."
"Then say it tired," I snapped, tears rising without permission. "But don’t stand there and imply that I’m unfaithful. That I’m some slut who laughs with her lovers when her husband’s back is turned."
He flinched. It was subtle, but I saw it. A tic in his jaw. And what I liked to call; a crack in the armor.
"I didn’t call you a slut," he muttered.
"No, but you thought it."
"I didn’t..."
I hit his chest hard and just enough to feel something under my palm. "You’re pushing me away, Axel. Every day, every hour, every night you stay on your side of the bed like I’ve got a disease..."
"I just need space!" he shouted, voice breaking.
I froze.
He ran a hand down his face and turned from me. And just like that, I was on the outside again. Locked out of the place where I used to live. How did we go from passion to cold silence? From soulmates to strangers sharing a bed?
"I just... need space. Can you stop pushing?"
I couldn’t breathe for a second. My throat felt thick. My heart? It was WRECKED.
But my eyes stayed dry... until I blinked. Then the flood came. It was silent tears at first, then hiccupping sobs. Ugly ones. The kind I’d fought so hard to hold back.
And in that moment, Axel turned.
His eyes widened like he hadn’t expected me to break.
Like he hadn’t seen it coming even though he was the one chiseling away at me.
He stepped forward and paused. Then he wrapped his arms around me slowly, like I was something delicate. Like I might shatter again.
"I didn’t mean to hurt you," he murmured, voice muffled in my hair. "I just... I don’t know how to fix what’s broken."
"Then stop breaking it more," I sobbed, burying my face in his chest.
We keep going around these circles. Every time I tried to fix things between us and have this difficult conversation, his words ended up hurting me and I broke. And him? He hated seeing me in tears – good terms or not.
Then, he’d soften up and that was it. It always ended up in sex. Just sex. No talking shit out or trying to be a better husband and wife.
We stood there, silent except for the soft music and the occasional sniffle from me. His hand rubbed my back gently and uncertainly.
"I need time," he said eventually. "And you need to stop chasing me."
I pulled back. "I’m not chasing you. I’m trying to hold onto you. There’s a difference."
He met my eyes. "I know. And I don’t deserve it."
That... did something to me. That admission.
For a second, I wanted to forgive everything. To say, Forget the past, come to bed, we’ll try again tomorrow.
But no. We needed to end this cycle tonight no matter how hard it was.
I stared at Axel, my eyes swollen, my chest aching, and my throat raw from everything I couldn’t scream. He looked back at me like a man torn in half—wanting to reach for me but terrified of what might happen if he did.
And then... he stepped forward.
His hand cupped the side of my face, slow, reverent, and trembling with something unspoken. I didn’t lean into it. I didn’t flinch either. I just... watched him.
His thumb brushed my cheek. His other hand rested lightly on my waist.
"María," he whispered, so softly I almost didn’t hear it. His forehead dipped to mine. Our breaths mingled. The moment pulsed.
And for a second, I felt the old him. The boy who had whispered forever into my skin. The man who once looked at me like I was made of constellations and answers. His lips brushed mine...
And I pulled back. NO.
He blinked, startled. "What—?"
"No," I said. My voice didn’t shake.
He looked like I’d slapped him.
"Not like this," I said, stepping back another inch. "I’m not doing this again."
His brows furrowed with wounded pride flashing. "Doing what?"
"This," I gestured between us. "Breaking, bleeding, crying—then kissing like it fixes anything. Like sex is glue."
"It’s not just sex," he said tightly. "You know it’s not."
"Do I?" My eyes burned. "Because every time I beg you to talk, to fight for us, you shut down. Then we kiss and you think the problem’s gone."
He opened his mouth but ended up just closing it.
"I want to be more than a warm body you reach for when you feel guilty, Axel."
He looked gutted. Like I’d just taken the air from his lungs. His fingers curled slightly at his sides. His gaze dropped. "I’m not... that’s not..."
"Then prove it," I said, quieter now. "Talk to me."
But then again, when the situation gets as gripping as this, Axel’s favorite answer to my nudging was silence.
I took another breath. Softer this time. "Please."
He ran a hand through his hair and I could see the frustration rippling through his shoulders. His jaw worked as if he was chewing back words.
"Please, say it." Xiomara chanted in my mind.
Yes, it wasn’t just me who was desperate to hear him finally spill the tea. My wolf was too. Yet, I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong apart from the mystery of our honeymoon.
And there’d been a time when Axel was slowly getting past it and we began to make progress. So what?
What is it, Axel? Just say it.
And then he said it...