17. 17
Allie
The ride home was the quietest I think we’ve ever had.
Not a single word was spoken between the three of us.
Jax kept his eyes on the road, Ana sat quietly in the back, and then there was me, wishing I could start my day over and not go to the diner at all.
Four hours of silence—no talking, no music—just the occasional yawn and the sound of the freeway rushing by through the cracked windows.
Jax kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting protectively on my thigh, squeezing gently every so often like a quiet check-in.
Ana, being Ana, knew I was upset. She didn’t say a word either—especially not after watching me bolt for the exit, tossing a quick, “Call me when you’re ready to go,” over my shoulder. Four seconds later, she downed the rest of her coffee and climbed into the car without a word.
As for Nora? She was already waiting for Gareth to pick her up, so it’s not like we left her stranded.
Honestly, I’ve never been more grateful not to be the one driving her home.
There’s only so much negativity I can handle at once.
And if I laid everything on the table with what’s going on in my life right now?
It’s negative. Negative. Negative. Then one little positive.
And that one positive barely flickers against all the bad trying to snuff it out.
Jax’s hand flexes on my thigh again—another quiet check-in.
I glance over.
He flashes one of those smiles that always grounds me better than gravity ever could.
That’s when I realize: we’re sitting in my driveway. The car is still running. Ana’s already inside, and Jax and I have just been sitting here in silence.
God, he must think I’m losing my mind.
I lean my head against the seat and offer a small, hopeful smile. “I’m sorry,” I say softly. “I didn’t mean to be so quiet.”
He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Don’t be sorry, love. I get it.”
I almost believe him. But as far as I know, he has no idea. Not really anyway. Which isn’t to say he’s not going through things, too. Creating something from your soul, putting your heart on a page, and then trusting strangers with it? That takes a kind of courage I don’t think I could ever have.
And honestly, I admire him for that.
But the thought of losing your children? On top of never being able to have another, and smiling through your best friend’s constant complaints about a pregnancy you’d give anything to experience again?
He has no idea. And I can’t fault him for that.
So instead, I lean over the center console and press my lips softly to his, feeling his rough stubble tickle just above my lip.
He presses his palm gently to my cheek, searching my eyes. “I wish I could come in and say hi to the girls. But I don’t want to tease them.”
“Plus, you don’t want to be late for your guys’ first radio show,” I say in a singsong voice, pushing his nervous buttons.
His eyes pinch closed as he groans. “You just had to remind me.”
I chuckle and cup both his cheeks, planting a kiss on his nose. “You guys will do great. Just be yourself.”
“So, sit in the corner and don’t talk to anyone?” he asks, raising a brow.
I tilt my head. “Jax.”
“Kidding, love.” He chuckles softly. His eyes flick to the dash, and he sighs. “I really should get going if I want to beat rush hour.”
My heart sinks when I glance at the clock and realize we’ve been sitting here for a while. Because of my mental breakdowns—again.
It feels like things are either really good or really bad, with absolutely no in-betweens.
I lean in and press one more kiss to his lips, knowing I’m trying to make this moment stretch just a second longer. He kisses me back, his thumb brushing over my cheek one last time before he lets me go.
“Text me when you get there?” I ask, already reaching for the door.
“You know I will.”
I slide out of the car and walk up to the porch.
As he pulls away, he leans out the window, waving. “Tell Charlotte I’ll talk to her tonight!” he calls.
I chuckle, shaking my head as I watch his taillights disappear down the street.
Then I step inside the house where everything feels quiet and still.
Too quiet and still.
“Mom?” I call out.
No answer.
“Charlie? Lydia?”
Still nothing.
Anxiety licks up my spine, goosebumps prickling across my arms as I stand frozen, straining to hear anything.
Anything that tells me someone’s here.
I dart to the window, yanking the curtain back to check for Mom’s car.
Nothing.
My pulse spikes. I rip my phone from my pocket and call her number as I take the stairs two at a time, flinging every door open.
It rings. And rings. Until—
“The person you are trying to reach is not available. Please leave a message after the to—”
Tears sting my eyes as I shove the phone back in my pocket and burst into the girls’ rooms.
Drawers left wide open.
Clothes are tossed everywhere.
And then realization washes over me, and numbness spreads through me like static.
What if Trevor never brought them back? What if he decided to just… keep them? Keep them from me, knowing damn well there’s nothing I can do about it until after Thanksgiving.
Would he do that?
“Hey, what’s going on?”
I turn quickly, finding Ana standing by the door. Her eyes sweep across the room until they land on me, and she steps further into the room.
“They’re… do you think?” I can’t even get the entire sentence out.
The room starts to spin as hot tears roll down my cheeks. I don’t even bother waiting for Ana to put two and two together, I just throw myself down the stairs, feet thundering with each step.
I nearly slip on the rug as I tear around the corner and into the kitchen until my hands catch on the sliding door.
Then I finally hear them, and it’s like the air rushes back into my lungs all at once.
Sliding the doors open, the sound of the girls running and laughing fills my ears. I don’t think I’ve ever been more thankful for anything in my entire life.
I stand there silently, watching the girls dart through the backyard with my mother in tow, trying to keep up. Then Lydia spots me standing in the doorway.
“Mama!” she shrieks, already running toward me.
Charlotte perks up immediately, following her sister until they both crash into my legs.
I bend down and scoop them up in the biggest hugs I can manage.
“Hi, Momma! Where’s Jax?” Charlotte beams up at me, proudly showing off the new gap where her tooth used to be.
I smile, gently holding her chin. “Oh, baby, he’s—”
But every thought dies on my tongue as I catch movement out of the corner of my eye.
Trevor’s coming up the stairs to the deck landing, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes fixed on me.
I tense, forcing my gaze back to Charlotte and lowering my voice. “Jax said he’ll call you tonight.”
“Yay!” she says, clapping and jumping wildly. She grabs Lydia’s hand and tugs hard. “Come on! Let’s go play.”
Mom stands on the grass, just a few feet away, hands planted firmly on her hips. She narrows her eyes, glancing between me and the back of Trevor’s thick head.
“Can you two play nice?” she asks, her voice serious.
Trevor chuckles, eyes never leaving mine, and I feel ice run down my spine. Then he nods. “We’ll be fine.”
The moment Mom turns away and chases the girls off, my eyes pin on Trevor.
I fold my arms across my chest. “So. What are you doing here?”
He tilts his head, the sun catching his curly blonde hair.
“Funny you should ask. I was just wondering why you weren’t.
Had Marissa drop me off so we could talk.
Clearly that was a waste of thought.” He pauses, scanning over my face before something clicks.
Then he smirks, shaking his head. “Let me guess. You thought I wasn’t gonna bring them back. ”
I swallow hard, trying to steady myself before forcing out, “What did you want to talk about?”
I watch him as his eyes slowly rake over me and I feel almost violated. From head to toe, his gaze burns every inch of my skin. But then his attention stops on my neck, and if I thought my skin was burning before? It’s damn near on fire now.
Fucking hell.
His face scrunches like he smells something rancid, body stiffening, shutting down any chance of conversation.
He slowly reaches out and pulls down the scarf wrapped around my neck.
I flinch as it slips, revealing the angry love bite Jax left behind.
Trevor’s eyes snap to mine, and I can’t tell if he’s disgusted… or broken.
“Real nice, Allie,” he spits before turning and walking back inside.
I stand frozen, more defeated than I’ve ever felt.
But as much as I feel defeated, I feel just as confused by the look that flashed across his face before he walked away.