16. 16
Allie
Everything is going to be fine.
It was a freak accident, and there’s absolutely no way it could happen again.
Jax will be driving. Jax is always safe.
You’re going to sit inside those same four walls that smell like burnt bacon and overly sugary maple syrup, and try not to barf—just like last time.
The only thing that will be different is I won’t be pinned against the pavement. Or choking on the smell of gasoline and blood while staring up at the sky, wondering if I’d ever see my daughters again.
Why the hell does she have to crave those pancakes again? Don’t pancakes taste the same no matter where you go? Oh, who am I kidding? Of course everything tastes different when you’re pregnant. I swear I could tell which chip was neglected of seasoning when I was pregnant with Lydia.
A hand presses gently against my cheek, pulling me from my spiral.
I look up and am met with Jax’s concerned eyes—the same ones he wears every time this happens.
Because he knows exactly where my mind goes.
There’s no point in hiding it from him. He’s been there through every panic attack, every nightmare, and every fight I’ve had when the girls have to get into a car.
He’s seen it all.
Jax offers me a soft smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but I know he’s trying.
“Are you ready, love?” he asks gently.
I nod.
He leans against the counter, facing me with his arms crossed over his chest. “Are you sure you want to go? I can call Ana and—”
“No, no. It’s fine, Jax. I can’t let my fear run my life forever.”
He opens his mouth to say more, but the sudden ring of his phone cuts him off. With a tight-lipped smile, he pulls his phone from his pocket and checks the screen.
One brow lifts, clearly amused, before he presses it to his ear. “Hey, Alex. What’s up?”
The sound of his name instantly makes my cheeks burn. The memory of Jax and me accidentally walking in on one of my favorite singers making out—with another guy, no less—was enough shock for an entire decade.
A smirk tugs at the corner of Jax’s mouth before he reaches up and wipes it away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says with a shrug, his eyes locked on mine. He pauses for a second, then chuckles. “Alright, mate. See ya.”
He shoves the phone back in his pocket and crosses his arms again like nothing happened.
My eyebrows knit together. “Is everything okay?”
He nods, wiping another smirk off his mouth. “Yeah, everything’s great. But, uh, last night?” He pauses, full-on smiling now. “We didn’t see anything.”
I lift my hands in mock surrender, smiling back. “Didn’t see a thing.”
Five minutes.
That’s all it takes for Jax to drive us to the diner.
The streets were completely empty the entire way here.
Not a single car. And sure, it’s early, and we’re only a few minutes from the hotel, but it still felt off nonetheless.
Almost like it was intentional. But as soon as we turn into the lot, the illusion breaks.
“You’ll text me the second you’re ready?” Jax asks, almost startling me from how quiet everything was just moments ago.
I take a deep breath and hold it before slowly blowing it out.
The fact that this is our life now, and that it doesn’t just affect mine, but his too?
It breaks me. It kills me to watch his brow crease together and his eyes swim with so much concern, like he’s also transported back to that awful day.
I can see him trying to hold himself together, and all I want to do is go back to our hotel room.
But I need to do this.
I finally give him a nod. “I promise I will.”
He cups my face gently, pulling me to him as he presses his lips to mine. “Try to have a good time, yeah?” he says softly against my mouth.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I force myself to leave his car. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest with every slap my feet make against the pavement. Thoughts swirling so fast I almost, almost, rush back to Jax. Knowing he’d keep me safe and hold me as long as I need.
My hand wraps around the diner’s handle, and the second I pull it open, everything drowns out. My thoughts are replaced with clattering dishware, so many conversations I’m not sure how they even know what they’re saying, and the smell of burnt coffee lingering in the air.
Ana spots me immediately, more than likely seeing all the color drain from my face as she rushes over to me.
“Hey, girl!” she says, standing in front of me. Her lips twitch at the corner as she eyes me over. “Well, damn, Allie. At least one of us had a night to brag about.”
I frown, shaking my head. I look down, checking over my outfit to see what on earth she could be talking about. “What do you mean?” I ask, still scanning over my dress to see if there’s some sort of stain.
The feel of her hands moving my hair freezes me.
“And don’t even try to blame it on your curling iron,” she says with a soft chuckle.
If I thought I was pale before, I must be practically translucent now as my face flushes.
Ana pulls me by the arm, clearly missing the fact I’m having a mental breakdown at the moment and ushers me into a chair. When I look up, Nora is sitting across from me with a frown, hand running along her swollen belly.
“With how much heartburn I have already, this kid better have a full head of hair,” she complains.
Ana snorts beside me as she stirs sugar into her coffee. “What? You mean like Gareth’s mop?”
I force a smile and snap open my menu. Not feeling completely up to par for listening to my best friend complain about the pregnancy she’s lucky to have while sitting in the restaurant that took away my chances of ever having another one.
“Do you guys know what you want to order?” I ask, pointedly.
Nora sighs—loudly—then clicks her tongue, a sound that never fails to scrape against my nerves. “Well, I wanted pancakes. But of course now I can’t stand the thought of them. I can already tell the morning sickness isn’t going to let up any time soon.”
And then... nothing.
My brain just shuts off. Maybe even goes a little numb. Tuning out the noise, the negativity—doing whatever I can to hold my mental health together while it hangs on by a thread.
It’s like she forgets where we are. At the very restaurant that started it all. The one that nearly took my life. The one that almost made my daughters motherless. And now I’m supposed to sit here, smiling politely, listening to my best friend complain about something I’ll never have again?
Nora lifts a sausage link between her fingers, waving it around as she talks.
God, I didn’t even realize the food had been dropped off.
Did I even order?
“And the freaking lightning crotch already? I don’t think I slept more than an hour last night.”
Ana offers me a tight smile, and I can already tell she’s trying so hard not to lose her mind on Nora. Not just because of the complaining, but seriously, we’re eating breakfast while talking about her vagina?
Ana sets her fork down carefully and leans against the table. “You know, not everyone gets to complain about a pregnancy, Nora,” she says, trying to keep her voice level. “You’re lucky. Even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”
Nora scoffs under her breath, eyes still locked on her plate as she stabs into her home fries. “Lucky? I’ll tell you what, you can carry her, then you’ll understand.”
My chair scrapes back so fast it screeches loudly across the tile.
“I—I need a second,” I mutter, not even sure who I’m talking to as I bolt from the table.
The second the bathroom door swings shut behind me, I rush into the nearest stall, slam it closed, and lock it. Then I brace both hands against the metal door, trying not to fall apart.
But trying is the keyword here.
And the other word that’s missing? Failing.
My knees give out before I even register it, my body hitting the cold, hard tile. My stomach twists, and I clutch it like holding myself together might stop everything else from falling apart. I don’t even know if I need to cry, puke, or maybe both.
Even though Jax and I agreed now’s not the time, it still freaking hurts.
It kills me, listening to the complaints.
Every single time. Knowing I might never feel another flutter.
Never spend another night wide awake, drowning in the lava burning at the base of my esophagus.
Never get to hold a brand-new life in my arms and trace every soft little feature, comparing each one to Jax’s.
But that also brings one thing into focus—
Something I would never take for granted. Something I would never, ever complain about.
The fact that I already have two little girls who mean more to me than anything. The way their smiles light up every room, no matter how dark it feels. No matter how alone I feel. They are my life.
And I think that’s where I need to be right now.
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and fumble for my phone. My fingers shake as I open my messages and tap on Jax’s name.
Can you come now… please?