Now he wasn’t so sure what he wanted anymore.
He turned and finally noticed the quiet ring of guards around him.They stood in a loose semicircle, watchful but pretending not to listen.The back door of the black SUV stood open—two more guards inside, pretending to scroll through phones, though their eyes had definitely flicked up more than once.
They’d heardeverything.
Saif slid into the backseat.The door closed with a soft thunk, and the vehicle pulled away from the curb.
He didn’t speak.Just stared out the window, watching the city blur past.His reflection shimmered in the glass—hard-eyed, haunted.
In his mind, he saw a little girl with hazel eyes and long, dark braids, nose pressed against a window, waiting for her father to come home.Then that same girl at eighteen, standing alone in a cap and gown, scanning the crowd with a hopeful gaze.Waiting.Still waiting.
His chest ached.
The sunlight outside seemed too bright.The world too loud.He closed his eyes, and for the first time in a very long time, he didn’t know what to do.
He just knew he needed a minute to breathe.Maybe longer.
Chapter 21
“You okay?”Jasper asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper as his gaze flicked to the bassinet.
Jayla slept peacefully, her tiny fists curled near her face, lips pursed in that soft, fluttery way newborns had when they dreamed.The room was still except for the faint hum of the old refrigerator and the occasional snuffle from the baby.
Jemma sat on the worn couch, knees pulled up, a crumpled tissue clutched in one hand.Her eyes were red-rimmed, lashes spiky with tears.She didn’t look at Jasper when she spoke.
“He’s going to take her from me,” she whispered, her voice brittle, like something already cracking under pressure.She was staring at her daughter, the grief plain in every line of her face.“He’s going to take her, and I’ll never see her again.”
Jasper’s throat tightened.
He wanted to sayNo, he won’t.Saif wouldn’t do that.He wanted to give her some comforting lie to ease the fear in her eyes.But he couldn’t.
He’d seen the fury on Saif’s face when he’d stormed out of the building.That wasn’t the kind of anger that fizzled out.That was the kind that fueled courtroom wars.And though Jasper had tried—God, hehopedSaif had heard him—it was hard to say if the man would understand.Understand Jemma’s scars.Her trauma.The ghosts she still lived with, even now.
So instead of false promises, he walked across the room and dropped down beside her on the couch.The cushions sagged beneath them.He slipped an arm around her thin shoulders, gently pulling her close.She didn’t resist.Her head tipped to his shoulder like it belonged there, and within seconds he felt the warmth of her silent tears soaking into his shirt.
There were groceries to put away—milk, eggs, the good fresh stuff they’d been able to afford this week because, finally, finally, Jemma had insisted they stop paying off the old medical debt from their mom’s cancer.It wasn’t their responsibility anymore, she’d said.They deserved to breathe.
So they’d bought fresh fruit.Green grapes.Strawberries.Zucchini for roasting.Carrots with the tops still on.It had felt like a celebration.
But now?
Now none of that mattered.The milk could spoil for all he cared.
What mattered was the girl beside him—the woman, really—who’d spent most of her life being everyone else’s anchor, and who finally, for once, needed someone to be hers.
“I was just thinking about Mom,” Jasper said suddenly, his voice husky with emotion.
Jemma didn’t answer, but her hand gripped his shirt, fingers trembling.
“Remember Christmas Eve, that year when it snowed so hard we couldn’t go to Grandma’s?”
She gave the faintest nod, her forehead still resting against his shoulder.
“We stayed home and made cookies instead.That tiny kitchen smelled like vanilla for days.”He smiled softly, staring ahead as the memory came into focus.“You dumped half a bottle of red sprinkles onto the sugar cookies.Mom didn’t even yell.She just laughed and said they looked like they were bleeding.”
A watery chuckle escaped Jemma.
“She let me eat so much dough, I puked the next morning,” Jasper added with a grin.“And you tried to blame the dog even though we didn’thaveone.”
