“We need to talk,” I replied. She opened the door wider and reluctantly ushered me in.

“They’ll be back around four,” she informed me. “You need to be gone by then.”

The quiet fury and coldness in her voice angered me and my original purpose was losing ground. Instead of patching things up, all I wanted to do was make her see how much they’d hurt me. What gave her the right to think that she held the patent on all the pain in our relationship? Sure, I hurt her. Did that mean I wasn’t allowed to feel pain as well? “Willow, what the hell is wrong with you?” I snapped as I sank down on the couch. The kids were asleep; after having baby-sat with Willow a few times, I knew their routine. Nap from noon to one. It was twelve-thirty, so we had half an hour until they woke up. “What makes you think that you’re so damned superior? What makes you think you’re the saint and you’re the martyr here? Why is it always me who’s the big bad guy? Does the fact that I have a talent for making mistakes mean that I always have to suck it up and take the blame? Have we ever blamed you for *anything* that goes wrong? No, it’s always my fault. Well, damn it, Willow, I’m *not* always wrong! And you’re *not* always so fucking holy and noble and righteous!” I exploded, as quietly as someone could when they’re exploding. Willow gaped at my outburst. I didn’t regret saying what I had. It was how I felt.

“Xander, what the hell is wrong with *you*?” she retorted in a steely voice. “You’re the one that ignored me for years, the one that hurt me time and time again. I’m supposed to forgive you all that just because you’re getting a little bit of that hurt back?”

“I see you’re such a great friend, Will,” I replied sarcastically. “Friends forgive and forget, they don’t hold grudges when the other one recognizes their mistake. I’ve apologized so many times for being oblivious, for hurting you, and for being the stupid asshole that I can be. But you throw it back in my face time and time again. You won’t give me a chance anymore. We can’t even talk to each other because of all the damned rules and regulations you’re applying to our friendship. I realized what I did was wrong and tried to correct it. But you’re only making things harder on me. And damn it, I am *trying* here! You know, everyone is always so quick to jump and point the finger at me whenever something goes wrong. Dumb-ass Xander, screwed it all up again. But you know what? I am so fucking *sick* and *tired* of getting the blame every damn time!” I hissed. I was trying so hard not to wake the kids. But all I wanted to do was yell and scream and rage. “You got to rip into me all you wanted. But I played it cool and let you heap all the abuse on me. You think I put you through so much hell. But I’ve put up with so much hell from you so that I don’t wreck our friendship any more than it already is. But you know what? I don’t care anymore. We don’t have much of a friendship left to save. And as sorry as I am that I’m losing the best friend I ever had, I’m glad to see you go. Because you’re not her.”

With that final, angry slap in the face, I stalked to the door, pulled it open, and disappeared. I resisted the urge to slam the door because the kids weren’t in the middle of my fight with Willow and I didn’t want to wake them up with my fury. I could hear her sobs on the other side of the door and for a second, I didn’t care. My spiteful side was glad that she was finally hurting over everything she’d done to me, instead of me hurting for everything I’d done to her. Then my love for her surfaced. I ached to reopen the door and pull her into my arms, but I resisted that urge as well. She needed to see what they’d all done to me before I could soothe her pain. I didn’t think of myself as the martyred hero, but rather as the over-worked scapegoat. I didn’t get the dirty looks and the blame for no reason; I truly hurt Willow, and for that I was sorry. But what I told her is how I felt. Just because I screwed up once in a while didn’t mean that I was always at fault. I’d been trying to become her friend again. She kept shooting me down and making it impossible. But no one saw how hard she made it. They just saw how I keep messing up around her.

The door suddenly flew out from behind me and I tumbled back into the house. “Xander, please, don’t leave like this!” she sobbed as she helped me up. I stepped back from her, knowing that if I didn’t distance myself from her I’d hold her in my arms and forgive her everything, and nothing would be resolved. “Please, give me a chance to talk to you. Don’t just come in here and yell and scream and hurt me over and over again and then leave me here.”

“Hurt *you* over and over again?” I repeated bitterly. The tears flowed down her face and I had to steel myself not to wipe them away. “Willow, damn it, I know that I hurt you so many times. Do you think I’m *that* stupid? I just didn’t know how *not* to hurt you. I didn’t understand what it was that I was doing. I know now, and I’m trying my best to make it up to you. But you won’t even let me be your friend anymore, for fear that your precious Oz will think the worst of you. Well, he should know that he’s won. You went back to him and you won’t even talk to me anymore unless it’s to tell me how I fucked up again. He should get that you don’t want anything to do with me. So, what’s the point of trying to resolve anything between us? He’ll always be in the way. And if you don’t think that’s the case, re-examine what our friendship has been like since he came into the picture. I never felt that I had to devote all my time to Cordy, but you did with Oz. We haven’t been friends since you started dating him, ‘cause you were always so eager to please him that you didn’t have time for me anymore. Our flukes were the only time we really spent together, and you can’t even call that in the name of friendship. And if you can’t even talk to me now, because you’re afraid of what he’ll think, then what makes you think we’ll ever be able to be friends again?” My long-winded tirade finally wound to a close and she stood there, trying to take in everything that I’d said. “Willow, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough. But I have yet to hear it from you. Do you honestly think that you’re completely pure and blameless? Do you really believe that I’m the only one who needs to think about what he’s done? ‘Cause if you do, then there really is nothing left for us to talk about.” I stepped back out the door and closed it, then ran like hell away from the house. I finally cried for what I’d done to hurt her, and the pain I’d suffered at her hands. Tears streamed down my face as I ached to run back and hold her and wipe her tears away and tell her that I’d love her forever. But I couldn’t do that until she faced up to some truths. And since it didn’t look like she was ever going to be able to realize that she was somewhat at fault, I resigned myself to a future without her.