FRANCIS Kennington Park Road
FRANCIS
Kennington Park Road
After this morning’s emotional collapse, when Sarah Simmons called to update me on the latest developments, I did my best to stay calm and, more importantly, to calm Jack down.
The moment he heard the news, he rang Ludo to tell him not to bother picking him up, because he wouldn’t be going to class today.
I, on the other hand, told him in no uncertain terms that he had to go to the academy. For once, I didn’t give in to his protests. I held my ground.
There’s very little I can truly deny my little fox, unless it’s something that goes against his own best interests.
Over the past month, he’s made tremendous sacrifices to get back on his feet, but now he can’t afford to miss even a single class. And as much as I long for the comfort of his company today, I would never do anything to jeopardise his professional future.
In just a few hours, we’ll be together again. And in the meantime, there isn’t much we can do, apart from speaking to my solicitor, which, of course, I’ve already taken care of.
Sarah Simmons couldn’t give me many details, understandably so, given her position. She only told me that Kelly Adkins has returned to London and, now that she appears to have found some stability, has filed an application with the family court to regain custody of her daughter.
As Adele’s foster parent, I’ve always known this was a very real possibility.
In the early days, I genuinely believed not only that Kelly would come back within a matter of days, but also that when the time came, I’d be able to face the separation from the child.
Painfully, of course, but with a certain peace of mind, knowing it was ultimately the right thing for her.
Now, if I’m honest, I’m not so sure anymore.
Not because I doubt Kelly’s intentions. From the little I’ve seen of her, she seemed like a good young woman, someone who tried her best but clearly lacked the support and guidance she needed at a crucial time.
And I don’t judge her for running. It’s not my place to make those kinds of assessments. Besides, she never put Adele in any danger, she left her in a hospital, a safe place, knowing someone would look after her.
And finally, despite my countless flaws, I’m not selfish enough to think only about how much I’ll miss having Adele with me, even though I already know that, if she were to go back to her mother, the pain of her absence would be something I might never recover from.
Still, I’m an adult. I made a choice, and I’m ready to face the consequences, whatever they may be.
But Adele isn’t. She never had a say in any of this.
So, what I keep asking myself is: what is truly best for her?
It’s not just me and Jack who see her as our daughter, she sees us as her family too. And it’s not just the two of us. She has a whole circle of people who love her: her uncles, the Blackbirds, the entire Elliott Arnett clan, her teachers, her little friends… even Michelle, her nanny.
Adele has a life here with us, a full, happy life, surrounded by a big, vibrant extended family that brings her constant chaos, support, and love.
In the early days, when she first came to live with me, Adele would still call out for Kelly, and I had to handle the occasional little meltdown.
But it’s been months since she last mentioned her, and now she’s a cheerful, content little girl, not just in mine and Jack’s opinion, but according to her nursery teachers and the social workers who’ve been closely monitoring our little family.
I formally expressed my willingness to adopt Adele months ago, so the family court is already aware of my position, and Mrs. Simmons’s reports on our home life have all been overwhelmingly positive.
As things stand, and my solicitor has confirmed this, too, there’s nothing more we can do but wait, and trust that the judge assigned to our case, with access to all the relevant information, will decide what’s truly best for Adele. A decision I’m not even sure I could make myself.
The idea of taking her away from her mother, if she’s now able to offer her daughter a safe, stable life, doesn’t sit entirely right with me. And if I’m this torn, I can’t begin to imagine how a stranger is supposed to make that kind of call.
For everyone’s sake, I can only hope the judge entrusted with our case is not only professionally competent, but also someone with real human insight.
When Jack and Adele come back that afternoon, even though I haven’t managed to sleep a single minute, I somehow pull myself together and try not to let my family see the weight of the anguish crushing me. And while I manage to hold it together for Adele, I can’t seem to do the same with Jack.
Once we’ve put the little one to bed and my boy’s finished his daily stretching routine, we sit down together on the sofa, and I fall apart. I collapse into him, clutching him tightly and sobbing into his shoulder, in a way I haven’t done in years.
Jack doesn’t flinch, not even a little. He’s probably been waiting for this all day. And despite his small frame, he holds me steady, piecing me back together, bit by bit, with his strength, with that unshakeable courage of his, with his love.
And even though it’s the worst possible moment, the least romantic in the history of romance, with the future hanging uncertainly over our heads and my face a complete mess, snot and all, like a six-year-old, I finally take that dear, beloved face in my hands and, out of sheer desperation, I let the words spill out, words that have been stuck in my throat for far too long: “I love you, my little fox. I love you, Jack McAvoy. More than life itself, more than I’ll ever be able to show you with words or actions.
And I’m sorry, God, I’m sorry, for being such an idiot, for waiting so long to say it.
I don’t even… I don’t even know why I didn’t tell you sooner… ”
Before I can make an even bigger fool of myself, Jack, with a half-smile on those perfect lips and his eyes shining, presses a finger gently to my mouth to shut me up at last.
“You already had me at I love you, my little fox,” he murmurs. “But you always have to overdo it, Starkey, and that’s one of the many reasons I love you too.”
I cup his face again, head spinning with emotion, and kiss him with everything I am, everything I have, tasting the sweetness of his lips, his mouth, his tongue.
I kiss him like I’m starving for him, reckless and hungry, and he kisses me back with that same need, the same desperate longing.
The fear we share, the terror of losing our little girl, has stripped away our last layer of restraint, leaving us exposed, raw, and painfully vulnerable.
And when Jack whispers, breathless, “Take me to bed, Starkey…” I know exactly what he wants, what he’s asking for.
Even though it’s not the first time he’s said those words to me, tonight, I’m not sure I’ll be able to say no.
The little fox, seeing that I don’t answer, carefully settles onto my lap, wrapping his slender legs around my waist and looping his arms around my neck.
“Tonight, I want to make love with you,” he murmurs. “I need it. And you need it too, I know it. I’m ready now. We’ve been talking about this for months and I’m tired of waiting.”
God only knows how desperately I want him; how much I want to make love to him in every possible way. But for Jack this would be his first time, and right now neither of us is thinking clearly. I can’t risk him regretting it one day.
Yet the clever little fox seems to read my thoughts. Taking advantage of his position, he rubs his groin against mine, and those slow, languid movements trigger an erection so fierce it’s almost painful, trapped inside my jeans.
“Please…” he whispers, lowering himself close to my ear.
Then he starts kissing my throat, slowly working his way up to my face, all the while grinding against me, his cock hard as steel against mine.
At last, he slips his small, astonishingly skilled tongue between my lips again, exploring my mouth in a deep, erotic kiss, until I feel my willpower slipping away.
I grab him, my hands closing around that compact, firm, perfect arse he shows off every day, wrapped in those damned black leggings that have unleashed my most secret fantasies.
The moment I touch him, I feel his body react, his length twitching against mine, and I understand that Jack, just like me, is truly at the edge.
I’m starting to doubt the purity of my intentions, and I can feel the resolve that’s kept me one step back until now beginning to dangerously falter. I wonder what has truly held me back all this time, already knowing that the answer won’t be a pleasant one.
Not his doubts, not his fears, he’s long since moved past those. If I’m being completely honest with myself, it’s my own fears that have stopped me. And they have nothing to do with Jack’s injury… but everything to do with what I went through with Anne.
Not because I still have feelings for her, because I absolutely don’t. What I feel now is simply the kind of affection one has for an old friend.
No, what’s really held me back is the terrifying idea of taking that final, irreversible step, of giving Jack all of me. And in this very moment, I realise just how pointless and ridiculous that fear is, because I’ve already given him everything.
Body, soul, and mind, there’s not a single part of me that doesn’t already belong to him. He could do whatever he wanted with it, even break me completely, and I’d still let him, as long as it meant having him close.
Because Jack is my person. The only one. The one and only. And he deserves this, he deserves everything.
Everything that his big, beautiful heart could ever want.