“Mind if I talk to him for a minute?”
“You sure? We can stick around.”
“I’m sure. Outside’s fine.”
Jaxon walks down the hall and sits a few seats away from the man—Travis. They talk for a while. The conversation starts tense, but Jaxon listens. Really listens. And somewhere in the middle of all that pain and misdirected anger, the truth surfaces.
Claire.
Turns out, Travis and Claire dated all through college. Maybe even longer. And now, apparently, they’re going through something—something that triggered the same patterns that pushed her away once before.
Travis believed Jaxon had something to do with it. Believed he’d interfered. Believed he was the reason for the distance, the silence, the way Claire was starting to unravel.
He came here chasing answers. Instead, he got a front-row seat to a man who wasn’t there to steal anything—but simply to move on.
Eventually, Jaxon stands and extends his hand. Travis takes it.
No grudges. No police report. Just two men who loved the same woman at different times, in different ways, for different reasons.
As Jaxon steps back inside, he locks the door behind him and turns to his receptionist.
“We’re closing early today,” he says with a tired smile.
“You sure?” she asks. “I mean... Jaxon, are you okay?”
He shrugs. “Remind me not to piss you off,” she jokes.
“Yeah, well... long story short, that guy was Claire’s ex. From back in her college days. Apparently, she’s been acting the same way toward him as she did before she came here. He thought I had something to do with it. Thought I still did.”
“And you let him walk away?” she asks, surprised.
“I did. He was just a guy looking for answers. A guy still in love. Honestly... I feel bad for him.”
“You’re a better man than most, Jaxon. Anyone else would’ve made sure he spent the night in a holding cell.”
Jaxon just nods.
Because what’s the point in punishing someone else for your own pain?
He knows heartbreak better than most. And now, he knows redemption too.
“Alright,” he says, tossing his keys on the desk. “Let’s get out of here.”
And with that, he steps out into the fading light of a day that started like any other.
Only now—he’s carrying even less of the past with him.
50
Where it Began
Jaxon’sdaystartslikeany other—coffee half-finished, two phone calls, one walk-in, and the easy rhythm of routine filling the morning.
By lunch, things are still steady. Calm. Predictable.
Until they’re not.
He’s barely sat back down at his desk when the phone rings. Not his cell. Not a transfer. His office line. Direct.
