Chapter 152

JAX

I stood in the doorway of Luca’s room, leaning against the frame as I watched Isabella sleep. Well, I say sleep, but I knew she hadn’t had much rest. She was curled up in that damn armchair again, refusing to come back to bed with us, and it made my chest tighten just looking at her. Even when she was close, it felt like she was miles away.

Luca was still fast asleep in his crib, his little chest rising and falling with soft, even breaths, and for a brief moment, the sight of him gave me a sliver of peace. But it wasn’t enough to drown out the gnawing guilt that had settled in my gut since the night we told her everything.

I couldn’t stop replaying that moment in my head—the way her face crumbled when we told her about Dominic. The hurt, the disbelief, the way her voice wavered as she tried to make sense of it all. I thought we were doing the right thing. At the time, it felt like we were protecting her, making sure she’d never have to deal with that bastard again. But now? Now I wasn’t sure of anything. I thought the guilt would fade once it was done, but it hasn’t. If anything, it’s only gotten worse.

I didn’t know how Asher and Knox were handling it. Asher had always been the strong one, able to compartmentalize when he needed to. He threw himself into his responsibilities, like he did today, leaving early for his meetings without a word. Knox? He went to train with the deltas, channeling everything into the physical, as if fighting would make all the feelings go away. Maybe it worked for them, but I wasn’t built like that. I couldn’t push this aside. I couldn’t just move on like nothing had happened.

I stayed. I watched. And I felt every single ounce of the weight that had settled between us.

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been standing there, but eventually, Luca started to stir. His little legs kicked under the blanket, and his eyes fluttered open, his lips parting in that soft, barely-there whimper that signaled he was about to wake up fully. I moved quietly, stepping over to his crib and lifting him into my arms before Isabella could wake.

As soon as I held him, something in me settled. Luca had that effect—this grounding force that reminded me what was most important.

“Hey, little man,” I whispered, bouncing him gently as he rested his head against my shoulder, still half-asleep. “Let’s get you some breakfast, huh?”

I glanced at Isabella one last time. She hadn’t moved, her form still small and curled in on herself. It killed me, knowing she didn’t feel safe with us right now. That she couldn’t find peace in our bed. But I would wait as long as it took. I’d do whatever I needed to make things right again. I knew I didn’t deserve her forgiveness—not yet—but I was desperate to earn it.

With Luca in my arms, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. The house was quiet, too quiet, without the usual sounds of Asher and Knox around. Normally, mornings were loud—filled with banter and noise as we all went about our routines. But now, it felt like the entire place had been wrapped in this heavy, suffocating silence.

I propped Luca up on the counter in his little seat while I got his bottle ready, moving on autopilot as I prepped his milk. My mind was spinning in circles, always coming back to the same thought: I have to fix this. I had to get our life back.

The thing was, I wasn’t sure if Isabella would ever see us the same way again. And I couldn’t blame her. We’d crossed a line. A line that maybe we shouldn’t have, even if we thought it was for the right reasons at the time. I knew that now. But knowing didn’t change what had happened. It didn’t change the fact that we’d taken something from her—the choice, the control—and she might never forgive us for that.

Once the bottle was ready, I fed Luca, his tiny hands gripping the sides as he suckled contentedly. Watching him, it hit me all over again just how much I loved this kid. He was everything. He was my anchor, the thing that made all the other chaos worth it.

And then there was Isabella. I loved her so much it hurt sometimes. I’d do anything for her. And maybe that was the problem. Maybe we’d all loved her too fiercely, too protectively, and in doing so, we’d crossed into territory that we shouldn’t have.

As Luca finished his bottle, I wiped his little mouth and set him down on the counter, letting him play with one of his toys while I turned my attention to making breakfast for Isabella. She’d barely eaten yesterday, and I wanted to make sure she had something warm and comforting waiting for her when she came down. It wasn’t much, but it was something. My way of showing her, in the only way I knew how right now, that I was still here. That I was still trying.

As I cooked, I thought about what Spencer had said to her, what she had confided in Maggie. It stung, knowing she was looking for comfort elsewhere, but at the same time, I couldn’t blame her. If it were me in her shoes, I’d probably do the same. She needed time, space, and I had to respect that.

But that didn’t mean I wasn’t scared. Scared that the damage we’d done was too much to repair. Scared that she might never truly look at me the same way again. And I didn’t know if I could live with that.

I glanced over at Luca, who was babbling happily to himself, oblivious to the storm his parents were going through. He was so innocent, so untouched by all of this, and for his sake, I knew I had to keep going. I had to believe that we could come back from this. That we could find a way to rebuild, to be the family I knew we were meant to be.

She loves us, I reminded myself. She loves me. And that was something worth fighting for.

So I finished making breakfast, and as I plated everything up, I sent a silent promise to myself—to Luca, to her—that I would fight. I would earn her forgiveness, no matter how long it took. I wouldn’t give up, because this—what we had, what we could still have—was worth everything.

Now all I had to do was prove it to her.