Part of me wants to ask Jagger to give us a few minutes together. It would give him the opportunity to check on Noah and me the chance to speak with Phoebe in private. When I look at him, though, I can’t bring myself to ask. Not when he’s already silently pleading for me to let him stay.
A second passes, then another. I’m not sure what’s supposed to happen here. But I don’t have long to wonder.
Phoebe throws herself at me, jostling my ankle that’s propped on the sofa. A small hiss passes my lips, and Jagger inches forward. I give a subtle shake of my head, asking him to stay put. To let us have this. His jaw clenches, but he steps back until he’s leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest.
“I’m so sorry, Poppy. I…I…” She weeps on my shoulder, clinging to me tightly.
“Shh.” I brush her long, dark hair, squeezing her back. “It’s okay. You didn’t know what would happen.” Even if she did, I wouldn’t care. Not now. Not tonight.
She leans back, wiping tears as they spill down her cheeks. “Dad?” My lips press together, thick emotion pooling in my own eyes as I shake my head.
We hug again, this time longer. This time crying for our loss, but also for what I hope we’ve gained.
When we eventually pull away, she glances over her shoulder at Jagger before looking at me. “So how did that happen?”
My chest squeezes as I look across the room. Two weeks. It’s insane what can happen in two weeks. Even more so, how fast a person can fall in love in such a short period. But there’s no point in denying it.
“It’s a long story. But I love him, Phoebe.” My eyes lift, meeting his as I utter the truest thing I’ve ever said or felt. He doesn’t respond or react, but it’s okay. He will when he’s ready.
And after everything, I know that I won’t apologize for how I feel, and giving him up is not an option. It’s messy, it’s twisted, and somehow, that makes it beautiful. I have no idea where we will end up. How this will work, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, Jagger Davis was made for me.
My sister smiles, soft and understanding, patting my leg gently. “Then one day, you’ll have to tell me this long story.”
Jagger
A FEW WEEKS LATER
My fingers thread through Poppy’s as I raise my fist and knock.
I wish I could say we’ve been inseparable since everything happened—but we haven’t. I asked her to move in with me, practically begged, but she refused. Said I needed time. Time to figure out how to be a dad, not just the fun uncle who pops in with candy and chaos. She wanted time with Phoebe, too. Wanted to convince her to go to rehab. And she did. Phoebe checked into an inpatient facility for the next three months.
Now, to try to convince her to move in with me again.
Noise explodes behind the door before a shout tells us to come in. Poppy laughs when we walk in and find three kids riding on Dane’s back while he does pushups like a human jungle gym. I scrub a hand down my face, hiding my grin.
“You wanted to see me, Maddox?”
“Yeah, just give Thor here a minute to grab his subjects and take them down to the nursery.”
Dane jumps to his feet, grabbing the kids up like they’re toys and carrying them out of the room, winking at me on his way.
Like that didn’t just make my stomach drop.
I’ve been anxious since Maddox called. I haven’t been in the office since the night everything changed. I’ve missed meetings. Ignored deadlines. But I’ve been busy—really busy—learning how to be a father.
I’ve spent the past few weeks figuring out Noah. His tells, his quirks, his favorite foods, the sound he makes when he’s overtired. The things a dad should know. Things I should’ve known already.
The guilt’s been heavy. Bone-deep.
It’s why I started therapy. Why I’m going to AA. Twice a day. Every day. Because anger and fear have ruled my life long enough.
And Poppy? She’s the calm in my storm. The soft place I land. But I can’t make her my cure. That’s too much weight for anyone to carry. So I’m learning to carry it myself.
But right now, I’m wondering if Maddox is about to fire me.
Do I need the money? No.
Do I need the music? More than anything.
