Allie
Turns out, all it takes to cook a perfect turkey is a little help and zero kids screaming in the kitchen.
And this year I finally had both.
No little feet running in every three seconds begging for gummies. No Lydia dumping apple juice all over the rug while Trevor zones out on his game, leaving me to scrub the floor and pray the turkey doesn’t burn.
This year, I actually had people willing to help.
I look over the spread, feeling proud of myself for being able to pull all of this off. The turkey is golden and juicy. The green bean casserole looks like it might still have some crunch to it. The mashed potatoes are smooth, buttery, and practically calling my name.
And then, of course, Jax’s chocolate satin pie, which we just might have after dinner.
If this year were anything like last?
Ana and I would be eating Chinese takeout with the girls in the living room.
“Alright, you guys can come in!” I call, cupping my hands around my mouth so my voice carries wherever they’re all hiding.
I don’t have to wait long—it’s like the floodgates open, and everyone comes piling in at once. Now, my once-quiet kitchen is filled with heavy footsteps, giggles, and the sound of chairs scraping back from the table.
Jax slips past everyone, pulls out my chair, and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. “You did a wonderful job, love.”
And that right there? Just made the entire night worth every second. Even the little burn on my thumb from checking the turkey. Absolutely worth it.
I slide into my chair, watching in awe as everyone starts filling their plates—especially James, who stacks his mashed potatoes so high it’s a miracle he can see over them.
My hand automatically searches for Lydia’s plate, and when I don’t feel it, I glance up and see Jax already filling hers and Charlotte’s.
And if I thought this man was perfect before?
So instead, I grab his plate and start piling food onto it. Minus the stuffing, of course, since Jax is a certified hater of the best part of Thanksgiving.
“But I don’t want carrots,” Charlotte whines.
I look over just in time to see her bottom lip quiver, her arms drawn tight to her chest.
Just when I thought we might get through tonight without a single meltdown.
Jax pauses mid-scoop, tilting his head at her with a smirk.
“What if I eat something I don’t like?” he offers, spoon still hovering over the bowl.
Charlotte giggles, wrinkling her nose. “But you eat everything.”
James practically chokes mid-bite of his biscuit from laughing. “She’s not wrong, mate.”
Jax fights a grin, eyes scanning the table before they flick back to Charlotte. He slyly drops the carrots onto her plate. “That’s not true,” he says. “I don’t like stuffing.”
“Who the hell hates stuffing?” James gapes.
I slap a hand over my mouth to hide my laugh from the fact he’s not wrong, plus Jax’s face. His eyebrows shoot halfway to his hairline, darting between Charlotte and James.
“First of all,” Jax says, “me. Second, watch your mouth.”
“Yeah!” Charlotte jumps in, leaning across the table to stick her tongue out at James who does it right back at her.
“So?” Jax says, trying to regain her attention. “What do you say?”
She rolls her eyes, still not looking so sure. “Fine.”
I’m still amazed every time he gets her to do these things. She’s as stubborn as they come—clearly from her father, not me—but somehow, Jax gets through to her.
It’s like he wasn’t just meant for me, but for them, too.
The voice of reason when things get chaotic.
The one who makes us feel safe, no matter what we’re facing.
And I just realized I said “we’re.”
Because I know he’ll keep every single one of us safe no matter what. That became abundantly clear in New York, which is why Jax can’t know about the way Trevor grabbed me the other day. He would destroy him if he found out.
When Jax loves, he loves loudly. It’s one of my favorite things about him.
But the court system wouldn’t see it that way.
The New Hampshire Family Court would definitely twist that into a big red flag.
And I’m just hoping all of this will blow over and I won’t have to tell him about Trevor’s temper—especially since Ana would jump at the first chance to spill it if given the opportunity.
My eyes land on Ana, who’s trying to feed Desmond a yam like he’s a toddler. He finally accepts his fate and takes the bite of yams. Then, with a hand over his mouth, he gestures between Jax and me. “You guys make a great team. My sister’s plate would’ve been decorating the floor by now.”
I laugh, because he’s not wrong. If this were last year? Charlie’s plate would be on the floor.
Desmond wipes his mouth with the cloth napkin and places it gently beside his plate before lacing his fingers together and leans into the table. “Have, uh… you guys decided if you’ll have more?” he asks.
And just like that, the kitchen falls silent.
Ana presses her lips into a line. James freezes mid-chew. And Gareth is just staring at Jax.
Meanwhile my heart is dropping straight into my stomach fast enough to make me nauseous.
Nora sets her napkin down and clears her throat. “Me and Allie were in a car crash—”
I shrink back in my seat, almost forgetting she’s even here. I’ve been avoiding her as much as I can after everything at the diner, and the Gareth revelation. It feels like stress after stress has been following me wherever she goes.
Although, she goes quiet the second she catches the glare from Ana.
“That isn’t your part of the story to share, Nora,” she says coldly.
I shake my head, trying my best to put on a smile.
“No, it’s okay,” I say softly.
I look down to the girls, who are both eating away quietly for once. They’re not listening, or paying any sort of attention. I can’t help but reach out and smooth down Lydia’s hair before looking back up to Desmond.
“I, uh, got hurt a few months ago. Needed surgery,” I say, quiet enough the girls won’t hear. “They said having another would be… hard.”
Desmond’s eyes go wide. “Jesus. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
Jax shakes his head from beside Charlotte. “It’s okay, mate. You couldn’t have known.”
The noise around us picks up again as everyone returns to their plates.
But me?
I feel like I’m drowning. Again.
Just like every single time I’m reminded of the one thing I can’t give Jax.
I watch Jax wipe gravy from Charlotte’s chin, and I blink back tears.
God… he’s going to leave.
It’s so obvious watching him interact with the girls how much he’s made to be a dad. How much he deserves more than anything to be someone’s dad.
And I can’t give him that.
I can’t give him the one thing he deserves more than anyone I know.
Then I feel a hand graze over my shoulder, and a tear slips free before I can stop it.
I wipe it away and look over, seeing Jax over Charlotte’s head.
“You okay?” he mouths.
I nod, even though there’s no point. I know he can see the tears shining in my eyes since I can feel them.
Then he’s on his feet, holding his hand out for me to take.
I slide my hand in his and without a word, he guides me out of the kitchen. But on the way out I don’t miss him clapping Desmond on the back, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly.
We barely make it outside before he pulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me like a shield.
And I break.
Every tear I’ve held back. Every sob I’ve swallowed. It all comes pouring out—ugly, raw, snotty, everything.
He smooths my hair down, rocking me side to side while he shushes softly in my ear, telling me how sorry he is when I’m the one who should be apologizing.
I press my hands flat against the warm wool of his flannel, pulling back enough to look up at him through my tears.
“You know I wouldn’t blame you if you left, right?”
His eyebrows pinch together so tight they nearly touch. “What did you just say?”
I shrug, my voice cracking. “Come on, Jax. You know I’ll never be able to give you what you want.”
“What I want?” He cups my face, firm but still gentle. “You’ve already given me that, Al.” He pulls me back into his arms, kissing the side of my head. “You’ve given me everything.”
“Everything except a baby,” I whisper.
He leans back just enough to meet my eyes. “I don’t need a baby, Allie. I have you and your girls. I love them just the same—and I’ll protect the three of you for the rest of my life. Regardless of their bloody DNA.”
And here I go again—becoming a sobbing, blubbering mess.
He brushes his thumbs beneath my eyes, gently catching every tear. “Please stop thinking that’s a deal breaker,” he says softly. “It never will be.”
We stand there for who knows how long. Long enough that I know my nosy neighbor has peeked out at least a dozen times. They watch in silence from across the street while pieces of my soul just keep chipping off.
But one thing that’s stayed the same is Jax is here picking up every little piece.
He holds each shard with such care, waiting for me to be ready to take them back. When will I finally feel okay enough to carry them again? I wish I knew. Because I hate feeling this way. Like I’m not worthy enough to even have someone like Jax in my life.
But I know I am. It’ll just take some time for me to be okay with everything again.
Hopefully after next week things will start to feel at least a little more normal.