Chapter 13 Jackie
Jackie
Elliott was silent as we stepped into the room.
He walked straight to the bathroom, turned on the water to the shower, and closed the door behind him.
I could feel something behind his silence.
He was too tense, too quiet. The sex hadn’t soothed anything in him.
If anything, it had only wound him tighter.
He was never like this.
What had happened?
I was still sitting on the edge of the bed, reaching for a shirt thrown on the floor, when a soft knock came at the door.
“Hana?” I asked, but I already knew.
I cracked the door open, and she pulled me toward the hallway, lowering her voice as the door softly shut behind us.
“I think something’s changing,” she said. “With them. With this.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?” But I knew it too.
She hesitated, searching my face. “I think Jack and Elliott are getting too caught up in it. Not with us, but with each other. There’s…tension. Competition. It felt different tonight. It wasn’t playful.”
I swallowed hard, the memory of Elliott’s hands gripping me, the way Jack’s jaw had tightened, flashing through my mind. She wasn’t wrong.
Hana took a deep breath. “We either need to stop this…or something needs to change. Before it goes too far.”
I nodded. I knew she was right.
We’d opened something between all of us, but what had started as curiosity, connection, maybe even healing…it was tilting. The balance was off. And no one wanted to admit it.
“I don’t want it to fall apart,” Hana said softly. “I just want to fix it before it does.”
I nodded, unsure of what “fixing it” even looked like anymore. “Do you think they’d be open to talking? To, like, at least try to fix it?”
Before she could answer, footsteps thundered behind us. Jack.
He didn’t say a word as he walked up to us—he just reached out, took Hana’s hand, and tugged her toward him.
“Jack—” she started, but he shook his head.
“Come here.”
There was something possessive in the way he held her. I took a step back instinctively, letting them pass. They walked down the hall together, and a second later, the door slammed shut.
Then raised voices.
I froze where I stood, tension crawling up my chest. I couldn’t help but inch closer.
“You’re mine,” I heard Jack bite out. “You’re my fucking wife, Hana.”
Her voice was lower, too soft to catch at first.
Then Jack spoke again, sharper now. “You pushed this on us. Just like with Michael. You made me share you.” His voice cracked as it rose. “And then he fucking took you away from me and almost killed you!”
I gasped before I could stop myself, then crept even closer, my heart pounding even though I knew I shouldn’t be listening.
“This is different, Jack,” Hana said firmly. “I thought we both agreed to this.”
Jack responded after a moment—lower now, but no less emotional. “I don’t want to watch him touch you anymore. I don’t want to pretend I’m okay with it. Because I’m not.”
I stood frozen in place, chewing my lip raw, my breath caught tight in my throat.
“Are you eavesdropping?”
I jumped. I hadn’t even heard Elliott behind me. His voice was clipped, his expression clouded with anger.
“Something’s wrong,” I said quickly, stepping down the hallway toward our room. “We can’t keep doing this. You two are just…you’re competing now. I don’t know when it started, but it needs to stop.”
“Agreed,” he snapped. “This was a bad idea. Especially with them. People you’ve had history with. People who are just as fucked up as he was.”
My mouth parted in shock, rage sparking like a fire. “Are you seriously comparing Hana and Jack to Michael?” My voice rose. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
We were shouting—too loud and too heated.
The bedroom door creaked open, and both Hana and Jack stepped out, confusion flashing across their faces.
“Why are my and Hana’s names in the same breath as Michael’s?” Jack barked, his angry eyes bouncing between us.
“Jack, calm down,” Hana said, but Jack wasn’t done.
“No. I want to know why the fuck you two are out here talking shit about me and my wife,” he snapped, pointing a finger at Elliott and me.
Elliott immediately stepped in front of me. “Don’t fucking point at her,” he growled.
“Okay, let’s fucking stop!” I yelled. “Enough!”
My words stopped everyone in their place. All three of them turned to look at me.
“This was clearly a bad idea. It was fun while it lasted—but you two?” I pointed at the men. “You’re having a fucking dick measuring contest at my and Hana’s expense.”
There was angry, tense silence. Elliott let out a heavy sigh but said nothing. Jack looked down, his chest still heaving.
And Hana…Hana looked broken.
“I thought we were stronger than this,” she said quietly. “I thought we were grown, consenting adults communicating with each other and having fun.”
“You should know me better than that by now, love,” Jack said snarkily, pushing past her and back into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.
Hana looked at me, then at Elliott. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, then turned to follow him.
I stood there in the heavy quiet, my chest tight, my heart pounding frantically.
Elliott sighed beside me. “Well. That went to shit fast.”
He walked down the hall into the kitchen. I followed him, my throat dry and tight. “What just happened?”
Elliott shook his head. “Maybe we were both just…too caught up in the excitement of it all.”
I shook my head. “Excitement?”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah. The thrill of it. Something new. Watching each other. Being watched. You can’t tell me that didn’t do something to you, too.”
I recoiled a little. “Of course it did. But I thought it was more than that. I thought we were building something honest, trusting each other.”
He looked away. “I did trust you. I do. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t get in over my head.”
I crossed my arms, heat rising in my chest. “So, what—you’re saying you lied?”
He hesitated. “No. I thought I was okay. I wanted to be okay.”
“But you weren’t,” I said, sharper than I intended. “And instead of saying something, you let it fester until it blew up in front of everyone.”
Elliott’s jaw flexed. “And what about you? Did you ever stop to think maybe I was trying to keep up with you?”
“That’s not fair,” I said. “You told me you were okay. You looked me in the eye and said it.”
“Because I didn’t want to lose you!” he snapped, his voice cracking. “I didn’t want to be the one who couldn’t handle it. I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t enough.”
My heart immediately began to ache.
“You are enough,” I whispered. “But you pretending to be okay when you weren’t—that’s what hurts. I would’ve protected you. I would’ve listened.”
He sat onto the couch, the one where it all started, rubbing his hands through his hair before letting them fall. His shoulders sagged and he looked…defeated.
“I didn’t know how to say it,” he murmured. “You’re younger. You’re vibrant. And all I kept thinking was—what if you realize I can’t keep up? What if I become the one you compromise for?”
The ache in his voice gutted me.
I sat down next to him, my hand wrapping around his. “You have always been enough. More than enough.”
He finally looked at me and I saw it all there in his eyes. The fear. The love. The desperate need not to fall behind while the world kept spinning faster.
“I’m scared,” he admitted. “Not of losing you to someone else, but of losing us—our life we built—because I was too proud to admit I was afraid.”
My grip tightened on his hand. “We’re stronger than your pride, Elliott. But only if you let me in.”
He looked at our joined hands, then back at me, his expression softening.
“I don’t want to keep you small just so I feel safe,” he said quietly. “That’s never been who I wanted to be. I want you to be free, Jacqueline, to be happy. I just…I didn’t know how much of that freedom would scare me.”
I slid closer, holding onto his arm. “I didn’t want to lose us either, Elliott. I didn’t want anyone else. I just thought this would bring us something new. A different kind of intimacy. But if something is hurting you, I need to know. I need you to trust me enough to tell me.”
His shoulders finally dropped, tension easing from his jaw. “I do trust you. More than anyone.”
“Then be honest with me. Always. No more burying things until they explode.”
He nodded, his gaze softening as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to my lips.
When he pulled back, his eyes didn’t waver. “I love you,” he murmured.
“I know,” I whispered. “I love you too.”
We sat for a moment before I gave him a faint smile. “Also, for the record, you’ve never once had trouble keeping up. Fucking far from it.”
His laugh was low and quiet as his hand found my hair, brushing through it while he shook his head. “God, I love that mouth.”
“I know,” I teased, gently squeezing his fingers. “And it’s not going anywhere.”