Even if I don’t feel like myself right now, this place does.
Mom hums as she moves around the kitchen, pulling a plate from the fridge before setting it in front of me. A sandwich, some chips, and a tall glass of sweet iced tea.
I shake my head with a small smile. “You always have something ready, huh?”
She winks, ruffling my hair like I’m still ten. “Mamas always know when their boys need to eat.”
I take a long sip of the tea, the cold sweetness hitting just right after the long drive, before digging into the sandwich.
Mom settles across from me, resting her chin in her palm, watching me a little too closely.
I know that look. She’s waiting.
She’s always been patient—always given me the space to talk when I’m ready—but I also know if I don’t say something, she’s going to start asking questions.
And I don’t know if I have the answers.
45
JAXON
Idrag a hand down my face, frustration settling heavy in my chest. “She won’t let me love her, Mom.” My voice is rough, edged with something too raw to hide. “She thinks she’s this…broken thing undeserving of anything good, that the people she loves will always just leave her or hurt her.”
Mom listens, her eyes soft, but she doesn’t jump in right away. She just lets me get it out.
I shake my head, exhaling sharply. “I don’t know how to make her see I’d never leave. I’d never hurt her.” My fingers grip the glass in front of me, the condensation slick beneath my touch. “I want to be enough for her, but I don’t think she’ll ever let me be.”
Mom reaches for her own tea, taking a slow sip before setting it down gently. Her gaze settles on me, thoughtful. “Jax, I know this hurts,” she murmurs, leaning forward. “I know it does. But you also have to remember everything Madison has been through, everything that’s been taken from her.”
I clench my jaw, my gut twisting, because I do remember. Every fucking detail.
Mom’s voice stays quiet, but there’s a weight to her words, a depth that makes them sink in like stones. “She lost her motherbefore she even had a chance to truly know her. And then she lost the father she did have—the one who was supposed to love her and protect her, but who only hurt her more.”
My throat tightens, my hands curling into fists under the table.
Mom shakes her head slightly, sadness flickering in her expression. “And when she finally got out, when she finally had some semblance of peace, he still managed to crash a car with her in it. He nearly took her with him, Jax.”
I squeeze my eyes shut for a second because, fuck, I hate thinking about it, about the way I sat next to her hospital bed back then, barely able to breathe as I watched her recover from something she never should’ve had to survive.
Mom exhales, giving me a knowing look. “So, if Madison believes everyone she loves eventually leaves, can you really blame her?”
The question almost lets the tears burning my eyes fall. The answer is no, I can’t blame her, not when everything she’s ever held onto has slipped through her fingers like sand.
I let out a ragged breath, my elbows bracing against the table as I grip the back of my neck. “Then how do I fix it?”
Mom smiles, but it’s a sad one, one that tells me she already knows something I haven’t figured out yet. “You don’t.”
I look up, my brows furrowing. “What?”
Her fingers curl around her mug, turning it absently as she studies me. “You can’t fix this for her, sweetheart.” She shakes her head, her voice gentle but firm. “This isn’t something you can just love her out of.”
My chest tightens.
Because that’s what I’ve been trying to do, isn’t it?
To love her hard enough that she believes she’s worth it. To show her she’s not broken, that she’s not unlovable, that she doesn’t have to run every time something feels too good.
But maybe Mom’s right.
