Chapter 17 Sadie
Sadie
My hands won't stop trembling as I refill the coffee grinder. The beans scatter across the counter, and I curse under my breath, sweeping them into my palm. Three customers are watching me from their tables.
Did they see the kiss? Are they talking about it?
My cheeks burn as I dump the beans into the trash.
"You okay?" Finn asks, sidling up beside me. "You look flushed."
"Fine," I snap, then soften my voice. "Just busy."
I move to the espresso machine, grateful for the familiar routine. Grind, tamp, pull. The rhythm usually steadies me, but today my mind keeps slipping back to the press of Axel's lips against mine. Right here. In front of everyone.
God, what was he thinking?
What terrifies me is how fiercely I wanted to lose control. For a split second I wanted his mouth on mine, wanted to give in and let him claim me, not caring who saw—just needing to feel his hands pinning me in place, making me his, consequences be damned.
I hand a latte to a waiting customer, forcing a smile that feels brittle on my face. As I turn back to wipe down the counter, I catch myself touching my lips, the phantom pressure of his mouth still lingering there.
"Order up!" Saul calls from the kitchen, and I'm grateful for the distraction.
Every time I cross the room, I swear their eyes linger on me, like they can see the mark Axel left on my skin.
I still feel the heat of his palm on my hips, his mouth on my throat, the press of his body pinning mine to the cushions, the ache he left behind because he never truly let me go.
I walk around branded by him, my body still sensitive, my skin remembering.
Want pulls sharp and low in my belly.
I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, trying to banish the images.
Not here. Not now.
My brain keeps dragging me back to that night, every second sharp and loaded—how thick the air felt, his body caging mine, the iron tension in his arms as he fought to hold back, the way his control made me ache.
The way I was left desperate, desperate for him to take what we both wanted until I lost myself completely.
He never complained. Not once. Just helped me with Poppy, made sure we were okay, and left without making me feel guilty.
"Sadie?" Finn's voice breaks through my thoughts. "Table six needs their check."
"Right. Thanks." I grab the bill and head to the table, hyperaware of my body, of the space I occupy. Every movement feels charged somehow, electric with memory.
The morning rush finally ebbs around eleven. I retreat to the back office, needing a moment alone to gather myself. The small room feels like a sanctuary, no curious eyes, no customers to please, no reminders of Axel's impulsive kiss.
Except he's everywhere now. In the way my skin feels too tight, in the lingering scent of his cologne that I swear still clings to my clothes, in the hollow ache between my legs that hasn't quite disappeared since that night.
I drop into my desk chair, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. This is exactly what I was afraid of, exactly why I've kept everyone at arm's length for so long. One crack in the armor and suddenly I'm compromised, distracted, vulnerable.
What scares me is how much I liked it… the flash of possessiveness in his eyes, the way his jealousy burned hot and raw, how he lost that careful control for me. There was a part of me that wanted him to show everyone I was his. I wanted to be claimed. For once, I wanted to be someone’s obsession.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, half expecting, half hoping it’s from him.
Melissa Chen: Call confirmed for tomorrow at 9 AM PT. Have all documentation ready.
Reality crashes back. In three days, I'm flying to Oregon to prepare for the hearing. In less than a month, a judge will decide if I get to keep my daughter. And I'm sitting here daydreaming about Axel Slade like some lovesick teenager.
I try to force my mind to focus. But my body’s still humming, skin too tight, every nerve wired for him. I can’t shake the pull. I keep reliving the way he looked at me, the way it made me forget every reason I’m supposed to stay safe.
But when I close my eyes, all I see is Axel's face, the genuine remorse when he apologized, the intensity when he asked to take me away for a night. The way he looked at me in the storage room, like he was memorizing every detail of my face.
One night where I can drop the armor, let him take control. One night where I can just be wanted, nothing else, no worries, nothing between us except heat and hands and the feeling of finally letting go.
God, I want that. I want it so badly my chest aches with it.
I pick up my phone again, fingers hovering over the screen. Before I can talk myself out of it, I type a message to my sister.
Me: Need to talk tonight. Important.
I hit send, then add:
Me: It's about Axel.
Rowan arrives at my apartment just after eight, carrying a bottle of wine and wearing that concerned-big-sister expression I know too well.
"Poppy's asleep?" she asks, slipping off her shoes by the door.
I nod, checking the baby monitor for the hundredth time. "Finally. The antibiotics make her restless."
"And you? How are you sleeping?" She studies me as she uncorks the wine, pouring two generous glasses.
"I'm fine." The automatic response slips out before I can stop it.
Rowan gives me a look that says she's not buying it. "You texted me about Axel, then avoided the subject all afternoon. That's not 'fine.'"
I sink onto the couch, accepting the glass she offers. "He kissed me at the café today. In front of everyone."
Her eyebrows shoot up. "Bold move."
"It was stupid," I say, taking a larger sip than intended. "Anyone could have seen. Could have reported back to Elliot's lawyers."
"Is that what you're worried about?" She settles beside me. "Or is it something else?"
The wine burns pleasantly down my throat. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," she says carefully, "that you're using Elliot as an excuse to keep Axel at arm's length."
"That's not fair," I snap. "You know what's at stake."
"I do." She tucks her feet under her, turning to face me fully. "But I also know you, Sadie. You're spiraling."
I stare into my wineglass, watching the red liquid catch the light. She's right, of course. I am spiraling, torn between wanting Axel closer and needing to push him away.
"We slept together," I admit quietly. "The night Poppy got sick."
Rowan's eyes widen slightly, but she doesn't look shocked. "I figured something happened. You've been different since that night."
"Different how?"
"More… present. Less robotic." She smiles gently. "But also more scared."
I take another sip of wine, letting the warmth spread through me. "He wants to take me to Denver. For a night away before I fly to Oregon."
"And you want to go."
It's not a question, but I answer anyway. "Yes. God help me, I do."
"So what's stopping you?"
I set my glass down, twisting my fingers together in my lap. "What if I'm making the same mistake again? What if I'm just… repeating patterns? Letting someone in who will only hurt us in the end?"
Rowan reaches over, stilling my fidgeting hands with her own. "Axel isn't Elliot."
"I know that," I say quickly. "Logically, I know that."
"But emotionally?"
I shrug, unable to put into words the tangle of fear and longing that twists my stomach whenever I think about Axel. How desperately I want to believe in him. How terrified I am of being wrong again.
"He makes me feel safe," I finally whisper, the admission costing me more than I expected. "And wanted. Like I'm not just someone's mother or someone's boss. Like I'm… me."
"That's a good thing, Sadie."
"Is it?" I look up at her, vulnerability making my voice shake. "Because it feels dangerous. It feels like I'm risking everything."
"Maybe you are." She squeezes my hands. "But maybe that's the point."
I pull away, standing to pace the small living room. "I can't afford to risk Poppy. Not for anyone."
"No one's asking you to." Rowan's voice is gentle but firm. "But pushing away someone who genuinely cares about you both isn't protecting Poppy. It's just protecting your fear."
Her words hit me like a physical blow. I stop pacing, hands pressed against the cool wall for support.
"I want to tell him," I say suddenly. "About Elliot. About everything."
Rowan watches me carefully. "Are you sure?"
"No." I laugh, the sound brittle. "I'm not sure of anything. But I think… I think I trust him. And I need someone besides you who knows the whole story."
"That's a big step."
I nod, swallowing hard. "I know."
Rowan stands, coming to join me by the wall. "For what it's worth, I think he deserves to know. And I think you deserve to have someone else in your corner."
"You don't think I'm being reckless? Moving too fast?"
She smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear like she used to do when we were kids. "I think you've been standing still for so long that any movement feels like running."
My eyes burn with unexpected tears. I blink them away, refusing to cry again. "What if I'm wrong about him?"
"What if you're right?" she counters. "What if he's exactly who he seems to be?"
The possibility is almost more frightening than the alternative. If Axel really is as good, as kind, as steadfast as he seems… what does that mean for the careful isolation I've built around Poppy and me?
Before I can respond, my phone buzzes on the coffee table. Rowan and I both turn to look at it. Axel's name glows on the screen.
I cross the room and pick it up, my stomach doing flips.
Axel: Denver this weekend? Reserved a suite at the Oxford. King for us, portable crib for Poppy. Room service, no pressure, just a break before you fly out. Say yes.
I smile, butterflies dancing across my nerves. The simple thoughtfulness of including Poppy, of making this about both of us, not just him and me. Of giving me what I need without me having to ask.
"What is it?" Rowan asks, watching my face.