Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 173

He turns away, fingers tangling through his hair again, dragging out a shaky breath before facing me again. “I’m not built for normal, Xander. For that picture-perfect thing I’m guessing you want.”

The words sting more than I expect. I feel them land somewhere deep, in the part of me that believed that maybe we were building toward something precious and unbreakable.

I swallow hard. “And what do we have now, then? What’s this?”

He exhales, the kind of sound that feels like surrender. “It’s everything,” he says. “You’re everything. The best thing I’ve ever had. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” His voice falters, quiet. “It’s not that I don’t want everything you want too. I do. But....”

He trails off.

My chest tightens. “But what?” I ask, the words small and broken.

He lowers his gaze to the ground, jaw tight. “I need the pain,” he says finally. “I need to feel it.”

For a moment, all I can do is stare at him, the world narrowing to the tremor in his voice, the way his shoulders sag under invisible weight.

“How about my pain?” I ask, voice trembling despite myself. “How about how hurt I feel every time I see you like this?” I take a step closer, my throat thick. “Because it fucking hurts, Jax. It hurts like hell to love someone who keeps intentionally choosing pain over peace.”

His eyes flick up, and for a heartbeat, he looks like he might break right there. But he doesn’t. He just stands there....haunted, silent, and still somehow further away than ever.

His jaw flexes, his voice low and rough. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do,” I bite out. My chest feels tight, breath coming faster. “I’m sharing you with him, Jax. And I can’t even be mad about it because it feels like I’m not allowed to be. Like I’m some petty, selfish asshole for feeling jealous of someone who's gone.” I shake my head, eyes stinging. “But I am. I am jealous. Because I know you love me, I know what we have is real, but half the damn time, you’re not here with me. Not really. You’re somewhere else, thinking about him....and it fucking hurts!”

“Xander—” he starts, voice softer now, but I cut him off.

“No! Don’t do that. Don’t look at me like that.” My throat burns. “You keep saying you need the pain, but it’s not about needing it, Jax....it’s about him! You go back to that place, you throw yourself into fights, because deep down, you’re still bleeding for him. Still trying to make up for something you couldn’t fix. Almost everything you do circles back to Andrew!”

He takes a step back, looking caged.

“Clearly you're saying my only option is learning to live with it,” I say, “But I can’t get used to sharing you with that....twisted way you cope. It doesn’t belong in our lives and I won't let it.”

I pace a step closer, feeling my chest tighten with every word. “I promised you I’d make you happy. And I don’t see how happiness and that.... destruction, can ever coexist in the same space. It just can’t.”

My hands clench at my sides, the frustration and fear bleeding together into something heavier than anger. “So now, it’s up to you. You’re the one holding on to it, choosing it.....choosing him.”

I take a deep breath, letting the words tremble out, barely loud enough for him to catch. “I’m not giving up on you. But.... if this, us, is going to work, you have to let go of the violence. Otherwise, I don’t see how we survive this.”

I desperately want to reach out, to pull him close, to hold him like I could fix all the cracks in him if I just touched him. But I don’t. I can’t, not now.

“I’ll get back to the shop,” I say, voice tight. “We’ll talk later, once we’ve both had a chance to calm down.”

I start to step away, but then his hand wraps around my wrist. Just that, and it’s like fire licking along my skin. Temptation. A craving that makes my chest pound and my thoughts scatter. I want more, so much more.

“I know you’re not trying to fix me,” he says quietly, and his grip on me tightens ever so slightly. “That's not what I meant.”

I nod, swallowing hard. “I know.” I do, deep down. And that’s why I’m walking away right now. Because if we stay here, if we keep talking....we’ll both say things we don’t mean. Misinterpret each other. I need to think and fucking process.

“I’ll finish up late tonight,” I tell him, voice steadier now. “Then take a cab to your place. I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll pick you up,” he says, voice soft but insistent. I shake my head, holding back a sigh. “No. Go rest. Ice the bruises. I’ll come over later.”

There’s a flicker of frustration in his eyes, maybe a little hurt, but he doesn’t argue. He just nods, and it presses against me in a way that makes my heart ache.

The walk back to the shop feels longer than it should. My legs move, but it’s like my body’s on autopilot, the rest of me hollowed out. Every sound on the street feels distant, muffled....like I’m underwater and the world’s still spinning above me. I shove my hands into my pockets, try to breathe past the tightness in my chest, but it just sits there, heavy and unmoving.

I knew we’d have to seriously talk about it someday. About that place and the ghost that’s been sitting between us since the beginning. I just wasn’t ready for it to be today. Not like that. Not with all that rawness spilling out between us like blood we can’t stop.

Now I can’t stop wondering if we can even get back to what we were before. If that version of us still exists somewhere, or if we just tore through it without realizing until it was too late.

My eyes sting. I blink hard, but the burn doesn’t fade. The thought of crying in the middle of the damn sidewalk only makes it worse. Makes me angrier! Because it’s all because of him. Because I love him so fucking much it feels like there’s not enough space inside me to hold it all, and yet somehow that love keeps finding new ways to hurt.