26. Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Six
JACKSON
S omething wakes me early. Maybe it’s the soft shift of blankets or just the quiet sense that I’m not alone in this bed anymore.
I lie there for a while, letting my eyes adjust to the faint light slipping through the curtains. Ava’s still asleep, her face turned slightly toward me, her hand resting lightly against my side.
Waking up next to her feels as natural as breathing.
I can’t help it. I lean in, brushing my lips lightly against her lips, a soft kiss that feels like more than a simple gesture.
Ava shifts then, her lashes fluttering as she starts to wake. She blinks up at me, her eyes soft and a little hazy, and then that small, sleepy smile spreads across her face.
After a long, comfortable silence, she shifts slightly, her voice a little teasing, but warm. “Good morning, real boyfriend.”
I chuckle softly, my heart catching.
“Good morning, real girlfriend,” I answer, enjoying how the words settle in my chest.
Ava plants a kiss on my lips, then slips into the bathroom while I dig out a hoodie and jeans. I hear the water running, her quiet movements. The normal sounds of someone moving through my space, and it hits me all over again how right it feels.
I grab my phone, and without thinking too much, I text my mom.
Mom, just wanted to let you know I’m dating Ava now.
I never thought I’d be here, but here we are.
I hit send, the weight of it settling in my chest. I never imagined I’d be telling her I’m ready to move forward, to let someone in. A minute later, my phone buzzes.
Greg’s little sister? Oh, I'm so happy for you, honey.
I’m glad to hear you’re letting yourself be happy again.
Tell her hello from me. You deserve this, Jackson.
Her words stick with me as Ava and I head downstairs a few moments later.
Downstairs, the house is already bustling. The scent of coffee hits first. Then the sound of the twins chattering, voices overlapping in that chaotic way only six-year-olds can manage.
Miss Taylor glances up from the kitchen island, a mug in hand and a patient smile on her face. “Good morning,” she says, eyes twinkling. “They’ve been up since seven. I think they’ve rebuilt half the LEGO city already.”
I grin. “They’re ambitious.”
Ava appears behind me, hair still damp, cheeks flushed. She offers Miss Taylor a warm, easy smile. “Good morning.”
The twins barrel in a second later, arms full of colorful bricks. “Daddy! Ava! Look!” Liam beams, holding up a half-constructed tower.
I watch as Ava crouches to admire their handiwork, her voice warm and full of encouragement. Noah tugs at her sleeve, bouncing with excitement. “This part is where the dragons sleep,” he says quickly. “And this”—he points to a stack of crooked bricks—“is the trap in case bad guys come.”
Miss Taylor catches my gaze and tilts her head, her meaning clear. She’s seen the shift too. Hell, I’m not exactly hiding it.
I clear my throat, moving toward the coffee pot. “Hey,” I say casually to Ava once the twins dart off again. “The boys are happily occupied, and Miss Taylor already told me she’s keeping them hostage for a while.” I glance at her.
She grins and waves me off, as if to say go.
My voice drops low.
“I was thinking we could get out for a bit.”
She tilts her head. “Yeah?”
I nod.
She shows no hesitation. No second-guessing. Just a quiet smile and a soft, “Okay.”
The boys are too busy building a rocket castle to notice us slipping away. Miss Taylor gives me a subtle thumbs-up as I grab my keys from the counter.
As Ava reaches for her coat, I open the door and glance back at the scattered Legos, the coffee mug still steaming, the quiet rhythm of a life I never thought I’d get to build again.
And the woman I want to build it with.
I drive without telling her where we’re going.
She glances over, curious. “Can I get a clue?”
I grin. “Pancakes.”
That earns me a wide-eyed adorable expression from her. “The Griddle?”
I chuckle, nodding. “You used to beg Greg and I to take you before you could drive. Claimed their chocolate chip pancakes were the best in the world.”
“They are .” She smiles wider, shaking her head. “I can’t believe it’s still open.”
As we pull up, I notice the little place hasn’t changed much. The weathered brick, chalkboard sign out front, the same faded red awning.
Inside, it smells like butter, syrup, and coffee. The hostess recognizes me and leads us to a corner booth with a grin.
Ava slides in across from me, fingers curling around her water glass. For a second, we just sit there, looking at each other.
No noise, no cameras, no fake story to maintain. Just us.
Our server appears, and we order without thinking because of course she still wants chocolate chip pancakes.
Black coffee, eggs, and bacon for me.
As we eat, conversation flows easily. We recall Greg’s terrible taste in movies, and the time Ava tried to teach me to waltz in her parents’ living room and we nearly broke a lamp.
It’s when she’s chasing a stray chocolate chip around her plate that her voice goes quieter. More thoughtful.
“You know,” she says, not looking up at first. “I used to have the biggest crush on you back then.”
That pulls me up short, in the best way. I set down my fork. “Yeah?”
Her cheeks flush faintly. “Yeah. I never said anything. You were Greg’s best friend. And older. And… I was just the kid sister who tagged along.”
I hold her gaze across the table. “You were never just anything, Ava.”
The way her breath catches tells me that lands deeper than I meant it to. But I’m not taking it back.
She smiles again. “Still. I never thought I’d be here now. With you.”
“Neither did I.” My voice comes out lower than I expect. “But I’m damn glad we are.”
When we finish eating, I reach for my coffee, fingers curling around the mug. “There’s something I should tell you.”
Her gaze fixes on mine, open and steady.
I draw a breath. “For a long time, I thought letting myself move on would mean I’d stopped loving Claire. Like it would erase her, somehow.”
Ava doesn’t speak. Just leans closer as she listens.
I go on, slow and certain now.
“But love doesn’t work that way. I realize that now. It changes. It shifts. Claire will always be a part of me. But being with you is not replacing her.”
I hold her gaze, my heart thudding.
“I think Claire would want this for me. I think she’d want me to be happy.”
Ava’s eyes shine, and she reaches across the table, her fingers sliding over mine.
She squeezes my hand, then hesitates. I can see her turning something over in her mind, her eyes thoughtful.
“You’ve lost so much,” she murmurs. “Claire… your dad… it must’ve felt like such a weight to carry.”
I swallow hard but nod once.
She shifts her gaze down, her thumb brushing over my knuckles. “I still remember your dad’s funeral. I was sixteen. You seemed so... far away, even though you were right there.”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice cracking. “It was a blur. I’d just been drafted that spring. He got to see it before he passed. He was so damn proud; told everyone who’d listen.”
She laughs quietly, touching my hand. “I remember. He would say ‘my boy made it big.’”
“Yeah.” I pause, feeling the old ache and warmth twine together. “After he died, Mom decided to move down to Tennessee. Said the house felt too empty, and her sister needed help. She needed the change as much as anyone.”
“That must’ve been hard. Everything changing at once.”
“It was. But Mom’s tough. She’s always been good at finding new ground when the old one gives way. She came back up to help after Claire... but eventually, she needed to go home again.”
We sit with it, her hand still over mine.
After a quiet moment, Ava asks softly, “Do you talk to her much now?”
“She tries to visit every offseason. She says she likes to wait until things slow down so she can really just... be here.”
I smile faintly, feeling warmth spread through me. “I texted her this morning, actually. She said to tell you hi.”
Ava’s eyes soften, her thumb sweeping lightly over my knuckles. “Tell her hi back for me. I always liked your mom.”
We linger over coffee, not rushing the meal.
When we get back home, the twins are sprawled on the living room floor, a puzzle halfway done between them. Miss Taylor’s nearby with a book in her lap. She greets us with a knowing look, but doesn’t say a word.
Ava shrugs out of her coat and tucks a stray hair behind her ear, her eyes bright and soft, and for a second, everything feels impossibly easy.
Then her phone buzzes from where she left it earlier.
She hesitates, glances at me, then picks it up.
The shift is instant. A flicker of tension tugs across her features as she reads.
I step closer. “Everything okay?”
She exhales through her nose, jaw tensing. “Brad’s company. They officially pulled their funding.”
I watch her. There’s no panic. No shaking. Just a long breath as she sets the phone down with deliberate calm.
“I knew it was coming,” she says quietly. “Still sucks, though.”
“You’re not alone in this,” I say.
She meets my gaze, steady and fierce now.
“I know, and I’m not letting him bring me down. He wants to pull funding? Fine. I’ll find another way. I don’t need him.”
I step in, my hand finding the small of her back. Her shoulders lift and fall, another breath drawn deeper this time. Then she squares them, chin rising.
“We’ll make this gala a success. No matter what.”
I watch her for a beat longer, a swell of something damn close to pride moving through me.
She’s going to fight, and I’m going to be right here with her.