Chapter 68 Aftermath

Chapter 68 Aftermath
The plates were empty, and the Broken Pasta was gone. Leo had finally given up on the toaster and had moved to the couch, where he was already snoring softly.

The stress of being the Captain was finally catching up to him, and the warm meal had knocked him out.

Jaxson and I were left in the kitchen. The sink was piled high with dirty pots and pans.

"I’ll wash, you dry?" Jaxson whispered, not wanting to wake Leo.

"Deal," I said.

I stood next to him at the sink. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing the strong muscles in his arms. He started scrubbing the pan where the butter and peas had sat.

He was being so careful, like he was handling a piece of glass instead of a cheap frying pan.

"Elena?" he asked, his voice low and serious.

"Yeah?"

"I was thinking about what you said in the library. About the project and your dad." He stopped scrubbing and looked at me. "Are you really okay with losing all of it? The car, the money, the fancy medical school?"

I grabbed a dish towel and waited for him to hand me a plate. "Jax, I never really had those things. My dad had them. He just let me use them as long as I behaved. I’m tired of behaving."

"But it’s going to be hard," Jaxson said. He handed me a wet plate. "I know what it’s like to have nothing. I know what it’s like to wonder if you can afford a bus ticket or a meal. I don't want that for you."

I dried the plate slowly. "I’d rather have a hard life that I chose than a perfect life that someone else chose for me. Besides, I won't have nothing. I’ll have my degree. I’ll have Leo. And I’ll have you."

Jaxson smiled, but there was a flicker of sadness in his eyes. "You say that now. but what happens when the winter comes and the heater in your tiny apartment breaks? Or when you're working forty hours a week and still can't afford a new pair of shoes?"

"Then I’ll wear old shoes," I said firmly. I stepped closer to him, ignoring the soapy water on his hands. "Jaxson Miller, do you think I’m that weak? Do you think I only love you because things are easy right now?"

"No," he said. "I know you're the strongest person I know. I just... I want to be the one who gives you everything. I want to be the one who makes sure you never have to worry. And right now, I’m just a guy with a bandaged hand and a hockey stick."

"You give me everything that matters," I said. I reached up and wiped a small smudge of flour off his cheek. "You give me a reason to fight. You give me a world where I can be myself. My father could give me a thousand cars, and none of them would make me as happy as sitting on a roof with you eating a sandwich."

Jaxson leaned down and kissed me. It tasted like garlic and butter and home. It was a kiss that said he understood. He didn't have to be a billionaire to be my hero. He just had to be him.

"Okay," he whispered against my lips. "We’ll be poor together. But I’m still going to win that championship. The prize money for the MVP could pay for at least a few months of your tuition."

"You're already the MVP in my book," I teased.
We finished the dishes in silence, working together like a team. By the time the kitchen was clean, the clock on the wall said it was midnight.

"I should go," Jaxson said, looking at Leo on the couch. "Coach will kill me if I’m late for the morning skate."

"I’ll walk you to the door," I said.

We stood in the small hallway. The apartment was dark, except for the moonlight coming through the window. Jaxson put on his jacket and grabbed his keys.

"Friday is the big day," he said. "Your presentation in the morning. My game at night."

"The Vance Family Showdown," I said, trying to sound brave.

"We’re going to win, El," Jaxson said. He opened the door and stepped out into the cool night air. "Both of us. We’re going to show them that they can't buy the things that actually matter."

"I know we are," I said.

I watched him walk down the stairs. He looked back at the top of the landing and gave me a thumbs-up. I waited until I heard the heavy front door of the building click shut before I went back inside.

I walked over to the couch and put a blanket over Leo. He mumbled something about a power play in his sleep, but he didn't wake up.

I sat down at the kitchen table and looked at the empty pot. The Broken Pasta night was over, but the feeling stayed with me. My father thought he could win by taking things away from me. But he didn't realize that the more he took, the more I found out what I really needed.

I opened my notebook and looked at my research on the brain. I had three more pages to write before Friday.

I picked up my pen and started to work. The apartment was quiet, and the air was still a little bit cold, but I didn't mind.

I had a path, I had a plan, and for the first time in my life, I wasn't afraid of the dark.