For a second, Claire forgets how to breathe.
Because any other guy would’ve already had his hands on her hips, already pulled her into bed. But not Jaxon.
He wanted more.
Her heart stumbles in her chest as she nods. “That sounds good to me, Jax.”
They don’t leave the couch for hours.
No sex. No rush. Just quiet.
Her head on his chest. His fingers tracing circles into her back. They kiss, here and there, slow and reverent, like they’re trying to write goodbye with their lips and make it not sting so badly.
He studies her like she’s the last photograph he’ll ever see.
And when she closes her eyes, she wonders if she’s ever felt this safe before—if anyone has ever held her like she wasn’t just a body, but a home.
The sun’s hasn’t fully clocked in when the doorbell rings.
Claire groans softly, her arm tightening across Jaxon’s chest like she can keep the day from happening if she just holds on tighter.
But the world keeps moving.
The clock says 8:45. Time's up.
Jaxon presses a kiss to her forehead before slipping out from under her and heading downstairs.
He opens the door to the girls, who are quiet—too quiet.
They know what this morning means. What it costs.
Claire appears a few minutes later, her face freshly washed, hair pulled back, like she’s trying to look composed—but her red, puffy eyes betray her.
Sara glances at her and doesn’t say a word.
They make small talk. Meaningless. Hollow.
Filler to keep the ache from spilling over too soon.
Eventually, Sara starts walking toward the SUV. Taylor and Macie follow.
Jaxon and Claire are the only ones left in the driveway.
And for a second, the silence between them says everything.
Claire stares at the gravel beneath her shoes. Then at him.
“I don’t want to leave.”
His jaw clenches. “I know.”
She looks up at him, her voice cracking. “I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and not see you. I don’t want to go back to a life that doesn’t have this. Doesn’t have you.”
He doesn’t speak. He’s afraid if he does, the words will betray him. That he’ll ask her to stay—and he doesn’t know if that’s fair.
“Thank you,” she says, swallowing hard. “For these last two weeks. I’ve never felt more seen. More real. I didn’t even know I could love someone this fast, but Jaxon—” her voice breaks, “—I do. I love you. I think I have… since the moment I got in your truck at the airport.”
He reaches for her hand.
