He stumbles into the bathroom and splashes cold water on his face, then grips the sink, panting.
When he finally looks up, his reflection is calm. Steady. Decided.
“I know what I have to do.”
This time, he won’t hesitate.
This time, he’ll fight.
72
Into the Storm
Sara’salarmclockscreechesthrough the silence, but she doesn’t move—not at first. Her hand finally finds the phone, silencing it with a groan as her fingers fumble and nearly knock the lamp off the nightstand. She stares at the ceiling, reality pressing down like a weight on her chest. This is it. Her last morning here. She sits up slowly, still tangled in the ghost of the dream that haunted her sleep. “It felt so real,” she whispers into the emptiness. “I could feel him—his skin, his breath.” Her voice cracks on the memory, eyes flicking toward the closed door. Wishing he’d walk through it. Knowing he won’t.
Dragging herself to the bathroom, she stretches every second. Showers too long. Movements too slow. Like if she moves fast enough, it’ll all be over. Like if she moves slow enough… maybe she won’t have to go at all.
When she finally makes her way downstairs, coffee in hand, she steps onto the porch and sees Jaxon and Jaqueline down at the dock—laughing, playing, a picture she’ll never be able to erase. He’s soaking her in, imprinting her into his memory like he knows he’s about to lose her. Every time he looks up at her, she sees it plain as day—the desperation. He’s not ready to let go. He’s going to beg. And she’s not ready to break.
9:15 A.M.
The bags are packed. Every zipper closed too tightly. Every suitcase sitting at the door like a full stop.
Jaxon hasn’t come up yet. He’s stealing every last minute with the girl he just got. And Sara—God, she feels like a monster for putting a countdown on that. For being the one who has to shatter the fragile joy he just learned to hold.
She steps outside with the bags, sets them by the car like anchors, and braces for impact.
“Jaqueline, I want to talk to you before you head out to the car,” Jaxon says as he kneels down, voice strained, like even the words cost him something.
He swallows hard. His hands tremble.
“Jaq, these past few weeks… they’ve been the best of my life. Getting to know you? It’s changed everything. You gave me breath when I didn’t even know I was choking. You gave me life when I thought I’d run out. Baby, if you ever feel alone—call me. I don’t care where I am, I’ll come. If you need me, I’ll be there before you hang up. I promise you that. I love you, Jaqueline.”
She wraps her arms around him, her tiny voice barely audible. “I love you too, Daddy.”
And that’s what ruins him.
He shuts her door slowly, presses his lips to her forehead like it’s the last time, and walks around to Sara—jaw tight, heart on fire.
“Sara… can we talk?”
She leans against the car, afraid to face him, but knowing she owes him that much. “Yes.”
His voice wavers. “You. Us. Jaq. I want you to stay.”
“Jaxon, please—”
“For once, I’m thinking about myself. I’m begging you. Choose me. Choose this.”
Her eyes flood. “You can’t ask me to give up everything and move here.”
“I’m not asking you to give up a damn thing. Rent out your house. Open the second location here—hell, I’ll help you build it. I’ll give you every one of my firm’s events. You want security? I’ll give it to you.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Then what are you talking about? Because you can’t stand there and tell me this doesn’t mean something. That you haven’t pictured staying. I know you have. Jaq wants it. I want it. Tell me you don’t.”
“I care about you, Jaxon. More than you know. But we have to go.”
