Page 143 of The Jaded Notes

“What was that?” I ask quietly, my voice barely audible over the sound of waves crashing against the shore.

“What was what?”

“Don’t.” The word comes out sharp, making him turn to face me fully. “Don’t start doing that thing again where you shut down the moment something real happens between us.”

He runs a hand through his hair, the gesture frustrated and weary. “Livianna, it’s nothing. I was just?—”

“You were looking at me like you were saying goodbye.”

Something flickers across his features. Fear, maybe. Or guilt.

My insides twist. “Jax, you were memorizing me for when I’m not here anymore.”

The silence stretches between us, filled only by the rhythmic sound of the ocean and the distant cry of seagulls. He stares out at the horizon, his jaw working as he seems to wrestle with words he can’t or won't say.

“Jax, please talk to me.” I step closer, close enough to touch him, but I don’t.

Something tells me he’s balancing on a knife’s edge right now and the wrong move could send him tumbling back behind those walls he’s spent years perfecting.

When he finally gazes at me, there’s something devastating in his dark eyes. Something like longing mixed with resignation, like a man watching something precious slip through his fingers. It’s heartbreaking, even if I don’t understand it yet.

“You want to know what I was thinking?” He pulls me into his arms, his voice dropping to that low register that makes my spine tingle. “I was thinking about how this moment feels like borrowed time. Like we’re living in a bubble that’s going to pop the moment the real world intrudes.”

The confession almost knocks me down because it’s the same fear I’ve been trying to ignore for months. That whatever this is between us is too good to be true, too perfect to last.

“Why does it have to be borrowed?” I curl my fingers into the soft cotton of his shirt. “Why can’t it just be ours?”

He covers my hand with his, pressing my palm flat against his chest where I can feel his heart hammering against his ribs. “Because my world is complicated in ways you don’t understand. There are parts of my life that would destroy this if they ever touched you.”

The cryptic warning makes my stomach clench with unease but also with determination. I’ve spent my entire life fighting uncomfortable truths, difficult and messy things I never should’ve been forced to. I’m strong enough for anything, and he needs to know it.

“Then uncomplicate it.” I peer up at him, willing him to see the strength in my eyes. “Whatever it is, we can figure it out together.”

“Can we?” His thumb traces across my knuckles, the touch gentle but somehow desperate. “When you don’t even know who I really am?”

“I know enough.” My declaration comes out fierce, protective of this delicate thing we’ve built between us. “I know you’re kind. You listen when I talk instead of waiting for your turn to speak. You make me feel safe in ways I didn’t know were possible.”

I’m about ready to tell him I love him and I’m willing to take on the world if he’ll let me. But he steps back.

Something cracks in his expression at my words, like I’ve found a weakness in armor he thought was impenetrable. He stares at me for a long moment. I can practically see him fighting with himself, caught between the desire to tell me everything and the need to protect me from it.

“Livianna…”

“I’m not fragile, Jax. If you knew everything about me, you’d know that.” I inch back into his personal space. “I’m not going to shatter if you let me see the real you. All of you.”

He closes his eyes and when he opens them again, there’ssomething haunting in his gaze that takes my breath away. For a moment, I think he’s going to do it. I think he’s going to tear down those walls and let me in.

Instead, he leans down and presses his forehead against mine, his breathing uneven as he struggles with words that seem too big for his throat.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispers. “Looking at you, touching you, and having you trust me the way you do... It’s everything I never knew I wanted and everything I’m terrified of losing.”

My heart squeezes at the vulnerability in his admission, at the way his voice breaks slightly on the word “losing.” I lift my free hand to cup his face, feeling the slight roughness of his beard against my palm.

“You’re not going to lose me.” The promise falls from my mouth without conscious thought, but the moment I say it I know it’s true. Whatever he’s running from, whatever issues exist in his world, I’ll never leave his side. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He shudders at my words, his arms coming around me to pull me against his chest in an embrace that feels desperate, like he’s trying to imprint this moment into his memory.

There’s tension in every line of his body, the way he’s holding me like I might disappear if he loosens his grip on me.