I blink, startled by his intensity.
His grip tightens, gaze fierce. "You’re mine to take care of, Sadie. You needed me. That’s never wrong."
Heat flares in my chest. I can’t decide if I want to run or let him say it again. My throat tightens painfully. I want to believe him, but the shame is too loud, too familiar. "My daughter was sick and I was…"
"Being human," he finishes. "Needing comfort. Connection." His hands drop to my shoulders, warm and steady. "Don't do this to yourself, Sadie."
I swallow hard, fighting the burn behind my eyes. I hate crying in front of people. Hate the vulnerability of it, the weakness.
"I should go," he says, and something in his tone shifts. He steps back, creating space between us. "It's late. You both need rest."
My chest hollows out at his words. Of course he's leaving. Why wouldn't he? I've dragged him through an urgent care visit, interrupted sex, a crying baby. I'm exactly the complicated mess he doesn't need.
"Right," I manage, wrapping my arms around myself. "Thank you for… everything tonight."
He nods, grabbing his jacket from the back of the couch. I follow him to the door, watching as he checks the deadbolt, making sure it's secure before he leaves.
"Lock it behind me," he says, hand on the doorknob. "One, two, three clicks, right?"
The fact that he's noticed this detail, this piece of my safety ritual, makes something crack inside me. I nod, not trusting my voice.
He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "Call me if you need anything. I mean it. Anytime."
And then he's gone, the door closing between us with a soft click.
I stand frozen for a moment, then mechanically turn the locks, one, two, three, like I always do. The apartment feels emptier than before, the silence pressing in from all sides. I sink onto the couch where minutes ago we were tangled together, my body still humming with the memory of him.
I'm still wet from him. Still aching. The physical evidence of what we shared making the loss of his presence sharper.
I should feel relieved. This is what I wanted, isn't it? To be alone with my daughter, in control of my carefully constructed world. Alone was safe. Alone was always the goal. No mistakes, no mess, no one to let me down. But now the room feels too big, the silence like punishment. I miss the weight of him beside me already.
I curl up on the couch, pulling the throw blanket over me. I'm too tired to make it to my bed, too raw to move. The baby monitor sits silent on the coffee table, its small green light blinking steadily.
Tomorrow, I'll be stronger. I'll focus on Poppy, on the café, on the impending court date. I'll rebuild my walls, higher and thicker than before. I'll remember why I can't afford distractions like Axel Slade.
But tonight, just for these quiet hours in the dark, I let myself feel the hollow ache of his absence and wonder what it might be like to let someone stay.
Chapter 16
Axel
Ipush through the door of Pike's Perk midmorning, the familiar bell announcing my arrival. I wasn't planning to stop by today, I have a brewery meeting in an hour, but I've been thinking about Sadie all morning, replaying our night together on a loop. The way she looked straddling my lap, her face when she came apart around me, how she rushed to Poppy without hesitation. It's been three days, and I've kept my distance, giving her space while Poppy recovers, but I can't stay away any longer.
Doesn’t matter how crowded the café is. I see her the second I walk in. Gray t-shirt stretched over her curves, ponytail pulled tight to keep her hair out of her face, but nothing can hide the way her mouth curves when she laughs. My body reacts first with that same heat, tension, that ache in my chest and lower. I watch her lips move and all I can think about is how they felt wrapped around my tongue three nights ago. She’s laughing for someone else, not me, and that sets my teeth on edge.
I freeze. Some asshole in a thousand-dollar suit is leaning into her space, eyeing her like she’s the answer to whatever’s missing from his perfect life. He’s got that slick, city confidence I fucking hate, the kind that thinks he can buy anything he wants. He’s looking at her, not her coffee, and I want to plant my fist inhis jaw just to wipe that look off his face. I fight the urge to go behind the counter and remind her, with my hands, my mouth, exactly whom she belongs to.
My chest goes tight, something sharp and unfamiliar cutting through me as I watch him push a business card across the counter to her. She takes it, tucking it into her apron pocket with another smile.
What the hell?
I approach slowly, sliding into a spot at the counter a few feet away from Suit Guy. Sadie notices me, her eyes widening slightly before she composes herself.
"Morning," I say casually, leaning on the counter. "Busy day?"
"The usual." Her tone is professional, but there's a new wariness in her eyes. "What can I get you?"
"Just coffee. Black." I glance at Suit Guy, who's still hovering. "Unless you're recommending something special today?"
