Chapter 31 Jaxon
Jaxon
I wanted to be awake when Rowyn arrived, but the second I threw myself on the bed and waited for her call, I crashed. Hard. Now, sunlight slices through the window, and I haven’t heard a word. No text, nor room number. Nothing. Unease coils in my gut as that sinks in, and I’m on my feet in seconds.
I pause. Maybe she’s just enjoying some girl time. We’ve been together all week. Maybe she deserves this. I shake off the worry, take a shower, and make my way downstairs to the restaurant.
The moment I step off the elevator, my chest seizes. Gina and Ash are sitting on the sofas like they’ve been waiting for me. My heart jumps into my throat.
They stand as I approach. “What?”
“We need to talk,” Ash says, glancing around to make sure no one is listening.
“Then talk,” I snap, the tension in my shoulders coiling tighter.
Gina lays a hand on my arm. “We should go somewhere private.”
“Tell me, Gina,” I say, urgency biting my words. She nods and pulls me to a sofa. They sit together, both watching me with careful, guarded expressions. “Is Rowyn okay?”
They exchange a quick, heavy look, and my heart hammers against my ribs. “Yes…and no,” Gina finally says.
“Tell me the no part.”
Her mouth opens, closes, and opens again, words failing her. Finally, she unlocks her phone and holds it out. My stomach drops as I see the article—my secret woodworking projects, my private life laid bare—and then, my eyes catch another photo, a pregnancy test with two bold pink lines.
“What the fuck? Who took these photos? Who was in my house? What the hell is this pregnancy stick?”
“Billy wrote the article,” Gina says quietly.
I shake my head, disbelief coiling in my chest. “None of this makes sense. Where is Rowyn? I need to find her.” I’m about to jump to my feet, but Ash’s hand on my shoulder freezes me.
“Rowyn is gone,” he says.
“Gone? Gone where?” I gulp. “Is she…pregnant?”
Gina swallows, her eyes heavy with worry and sympathy. “Jaxon…she found out she was pregnant yesterday. She was coming here to tell you…”
“She’s really…pregnant.” The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I sink back into the cushions, air leaving my lungs in a whoosh. “Row… she’s pregnant.” I stare at the phone in my hand. “But this… I don’t get it.”
“I know,” Gina says gently.
“How…how did Billy get these pictures?” I know there’s no way in hell Rowyn gave them to him. “Rowyn—” I begin but Gina cuts me off.
“She thought you’d think that. She thought you’d think she got pregnant on purpose…” Gina swallows again. “She explained your past.”
I shake my head, trying to process. Running a hand through my tangled hair, I murmur, “Wait. Row…” I jab my thumb into my chest. “She went there. Thinking my first reaction is that she betrayed me.”
“Yes,” Gina confirms softly.
“Why?”
“When the article came out… who else had a key to your house?” she asks carefully.
“No one. But that doesn’t mean—”
She shakes her head. “So you’re saying you don’t think Rowyn was behind this.”
I can’t believe she’s even asking me that. “Of course not.”
“You must be wondering how these pictures got out,” Ash says.
“Billy wrote the article,” I mutter, anger flaring.
“You don’t think Rowyn gave him access to your place?”
“No. Rowyn would never do that to me. The bastard probably broke in.”
“Are you mad?” Gina asks.
“Damn right I’m mad. Mad at myself that she was so worried she ran away. I obviously did something…or didn’t do enough to make sure she didn’t think the worst of me.”
Gina and Ash exchange another look. Gina turns back to me. “That’s really sweet, Jaxon.”
“You don’t for one minute think she did this?” Ash asks, seeking confirmation.
I hesitate. They don’t trust reporters. “No. Do you?”
He shakes his head. “Not even a little bit.”
I swallow hard, and yet here we are. Rowyn is gone, and every second I waste is another second I can’t hold her, can’t protect her, can’t fix this.
I shake my head, my shoulders so tight they’re about to cramp. “I’m upset that she thought I would think the worst,” I admit, forcing a few deep breaths to calm myself. “I clearly haven’t done enough to show her how much I love her. This…this is all my fault.”
“Oh, Jaxon.” Gina throws her arms around me. “You’re the best.”
I push to my feet, urgency burning in my chest. “I need to come up with a plan. Now.”
“Well,” Gina says, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “You know she’s a reporter…a writer…always showing rather than telling in her work. But maybe this time, you should just tell her. Use your words.”
I glance around the lobby, scanning for my fastest exit. “I’m going to, as soon as I find her.”
Ash pulls me into a firm hug. “Dude…you’re going to be a father.”
“Yeah, I know.” The words are both terrifying and exhilarating. I’m still furious that Rowyn ran, still stung that she thought I’d assume the worst—but underneath it all, a small, fierce joy pulses in me. “I just hate that this is how I found out.”
“She was going to tell you,” Gina insists. “She wanted to tell you. She was scared you’d think…well, you know.”
My chest tightens. My God. What was going through her head?
I don’t know, but I can cut her some slack.
Life hasn’t been easy for her, and she knows my history with my ex.
I can understand her fears, but this—this is us.
Rowyn and me. We’re a team. And the truth?
This is on me too. I should have told her sooner that I wanted a life with her, a family, kids, the white picket fence—all of it.
Just then, Rip steps off the elevator and walks toward us. His gaze flicks from me to Gina, to Ash, then back to me. “Uh…what’s up?”
“Rip, you still marry people, right?” I ask, my voice tight with urgency.
“Right.”
“Keep the chapel open. We’ll be back.”
He shrugs, clueless but willing. “You got it.”
I don’t waste another second. I step outside, leap into the first cab that pulls up, heart hammering. At the airport, I manage to get the last seat on a plane leaving in ten hours. Ten hours… Rowyn’s no doubt already on an earlier flight back. If only I had woken sooner.
If only I hadn’t slept through her arrival.
The wait at the airport is grueling. I keep messaging Rowyn, desperate, telling her we need to talk, but I get nothing back. Phone silenced, probably. She’s scared I’ll accuse her of…of trapping me. Ridiculous. Completely ridiculous.
I’m wired, exhausted, and restless when we finally board. I try to settle in my seat, to ride out the long trip home, but my body is humming with tension. A couple of drinks help, just enough to calm the edges and let me get a few hours of sleep.
By the time we touch down in Boston, it’s the middle of the night.
No luggage to collect, I step outside and hail a car.
Rain lashes down in sheets, drenching everything in its path, but I don’t care.
I give the driver my address. Then I pause.
She’s probably gone home. I change it, and give the driver hers instead.
The car finally pulls up. I pay and step into the dark, rain-soaked night. Water soaks me to the bone, dripping off my hair, running down my collar, but I barely notice. Her house looms ahead, dark and silent.
I hurry to her door, knocking once…then twice. No answer. My hands pound harder, reckless, enough to wake the neighbors.
A light flicks on upstairs. I catch a glimpse of her in the window. I point at the door. She disappears. My heart thuds. Is she going to open the door…or stay upstairs, hiding in the dark?
Then I hear her voice. Soft, trembling. “Jaxon.”
“Let me in, Rowyn. We need to talk,” I say, keeping my voice calm, steady. I refuse to let her think I’m angry.
“Jaxon…I’m…sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Now can you please let me in? We need to talk.”
I see the door handle turn, but the door won’t budge. She flicks on the porch light, and my stomach drops. The wood has swollen in the rain. “I should have gotten this fixed for you,” I mutter under my breath. Goddammit. I’ve failed her in so many ways.
“It was my responsibility,” she murmurs, almost inaudible.
“What about the back door?”
“Let me try it.”
I wait, tense, listening to the quiet apart from the rain hammering down. Then her voice comes again, panicked. “It’s stuck too. I can’t get out.”
I can’t get in.
“The windows?”
“Still painted shut.”
I spin, taking in the dark, rain-slicked night. My chest tightens. She’s a writer. A reporter. She prefers showing over telling. And I plan to tell her, to lay it all out with words, but right now… it’s showtime.
I take a deep breath, muscles coiled, heart hammering, and prepare to do whatever it takes to reach her.
I yank my phone from my pocket with shaking hands and fire off a text to my buddy.
“Jaxon,” she calls through the door, voice thin, trembling.
“I’m here.” I press my palm flat to the swollen wood. My pulse hammers. “I’m not leaving.”
“I—I thought you left.” The crack in her voice nearly splits me in two.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say firmly. “Not now. Not ever.”
My hand stays on the door, and I swear I can feel hers beneath it. Just inches of wood between us. “We’re having a baby,” I say quietly, reverently. “You and me.”
There’s a beat of silence. Then a shattered whisper, “I wanted to tell you…I thought—”
“You thought I’d be angry,” I finish. “Thought I’d believe you tricked me. But, babe… I know you’d never do that.” My voice breaks. “If anything, I blame myself for every second you’ve been sitting here terrified.”
“I’m… scared,” she admits, voice shaking.
“You don’t have to be,” I say, leaning my forehead against the door. Rainwater drips from my hair to the threshold. “I’m here. I’m right here, Rowyn.”
A soft, broken sob filters through the door. “The article…”
“Billy is an asshole,” I growl. “I don’t know how he got in, but I know you had nothing to do with it.”
“It was my fault.”
My chest tightens. Old fears claw at me. “What?”