If you only knew...

59.My mistakes

Ana's POV

As our car pulls up to the villa, everyone spills out and rushes inside, except for Xavier. He turns away, deliberately veering off in the opposite direction, as if he's trying to escape not just the car, but me too.

A wave of anger surges through me. I'm furious at how he's treating me after I spent so much time worrying about him. My thoughts spiral as I replay his reckless choice to rush in and save Lisa. What could possibly be going through his mind? Did something happen between them back there? Something... intimate? No way. He hates her! I refuse to entertain those thoughts; they're unbearable and threaten to consume me.

However, I can't just walk away from this uncertainty; I have to uncover the truth. The thought of anything happening between them sends shivers down my spine—it's a nightmare I can hardly bear to imagine. The idea that he could betray me like that is utterly devastating, and I refuse to let my mind linger on such a possibility.

I sprint after him down the dimly lit alley, the villa fading behind me with each hurried step. He walks forward, his stance wobbly and uncertain, making it easy for me to close the distance.

"Hey, wait! We need to talk—just the two of us," I call out, but he doesn't respond, not even bothering to glance back. Frustration surges within me as I snap, "Is there something going on between you and Lisa? Is that why you're acting like this towards me?"

He abruptly stops and spins around to face me, a bitter smile creeping across his lips. "I can't believe this is what you're concerned about right now."

"Just answer the question!" I yell, irritation rising inside me.

He takes a deep breath, discomfort rippling through his expression. "Just leave me alone, Ana. I'm not feeling well, and I really don't have the energy for your drama right now."

"You really hurt my feelings, Xavier. Please don't act like this," I implore, my voice trembling with a mix of vulnerability and frustration. I can tell my anger doesn't faze him at all; it's like I'm shouting into a void.

He glances back at me, his expression unreadable, then abruptly turns his back and continues walking away. Is he truly this indifferent? Where has all that affection gone? Where is the part of him that used to respond to my pleas and my pain?

My mind races as I try to make sense of everything. Is he still upset about my phone call with Marco? Before I can voice my thoughts, I see him leaning heavily against a tree, his body becoming unstable. He bends slightly, his hands gripping his stomach as he throws up. Panic surges through me as I rush to his side.

"You're not okay. Come here!" I reach out instinctively, desperate to comfort him, but as my hand touches his back, he flinches, pushing me away with surprising force.

I freeze, my heart pounding with worry. Then, gathering my courage, I ask, "Is this about my conversation with Marco on the phone? Is that why you're keeping me at a distance?"

He slowly turns his head, disappointment etched across his features. "Took you long enough to figure it out."

"I'm really sorry. I promise I won't use those words again with him," I say softly, taking a cautious step toward him. "But you don't have to pretend to be this cold around me."

He gazes at me, the pain in his eyes barely hidden behind a façade of neutrality. Slowly, he sinks down to lean against the sturdy trunk of the tree, a gesture that feels almost like surrender. "I'm not pretending, Ana. Every time you act like that, you push me away," he replies, his voice tinged with a frigid weight. "You think I hurt your feelings? If that's how you feel, maybe it's better if you just stay away from a 'jerk' like me."