Chapter Six #3
He responds with an animalistic growl, his pace quickening as I feel the pressure building. “You’re such a good girl for me, Zora. Take it.”
With the sound of my name spilling from his lips, something snaps inside me. I can feel the wave cresting, ready to crash. “I’m…I’m…”
“Let go, baby girl,” he urges, and that’s all it takes.
The orgasm overwhelms my senses as I cry out his name. I can feel him press deeper, chasing his own release, and we tumble over the edge together, our bodies entwined in sheer ecstasy.
As we come down, I cling to him, the reality of it all sinking in. I know this is goodbye, but in this moment, nothing else matters but the way he holds me, the way he makes me feel. And for now, I let myself drown in him, forgetting everything else.
I stay in his embrace, and for a few minutes, I pretend. Pretend this isn’t ending. Pretend I don’t have to break both of us in the morning.
??????????
Morning comes too fast. It always does when you don’t want it to.
Jax is already moving around when I sit up. I hear Levi stirring in his crib, the quiet normalcy of it almost enough to make me forget what I have to do. Almost.
“Disney day,” he says lightly, glancing at me with a small smile. “You ready?”
My chest tightens painfully. He’s excited. Of course, he is.
“I can’t go,” I say. The words fall flat.
He pauses. “What?”
“I’m not going,” I repeat, forcing my voice to stay steady as I stand. “And neither is Levi.”
He frowns slightly, confusion already settling in. “Zora, what are you talking about?”
I take a step back, putting space between us before I lose my nerve. “This…us…it’s not working.”
Silence falls, and it’s heavy.
“What?” he says again, quieter now.
“I don’t want this anymore,” I continue, the words nearly ripping me apart as I say them. “I don’t want you in our lives.”
His expression shifts from confusion to something sharper. “Where is this coming from?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.”
“Well, it shouldn’t,” I snap, forcing more edge into my voice than I feel. “Because I’m done.”
His hand goes to the back of his neck. “Zora—”
“No,” I cut him off quickly. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“Harder?” he repeats, disbelief creeping in. “You think this isn’t already—”
“I don’t love you.”
The words hang in the air. Loud. Final. A lie so heavy it almost crushes me. Jax stills completely. And that hurts more than anything.
“Say that again,” he says quietly.
I swallow hard, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “I don’t love you.”
Something in his expression breaks.
“Right,” he says after a second, his voice rougher now. “Okay.”
I want him to argue. To fight. To not believe me. But he doesn’t. He just nods once, like he’s accepting it even though it’s killing him.
“Got it,” he mutters.
I can’t breathe. “Jax—”
“No,” he cuts in this time, his voice sharper now. “You’ve said enough.”
Silence falls again. Then he grabs his keys.
“That’s what you want?” he asks, not looking at me.
I close my eyes for a second, then force them open. “Yes.”
Another nod. “Alright.”
And then, he walks out. Just like that. The door shuts behind him with a quiet click that feels louder than anything. And the second he’s gone, I break.
I should have known the peace wouldn’t last. For someone like me, it never does.
Still, I let myself believe it. I let myself believe that waking up in Jax’s arms, hearing Levi’s soft laughter in the mornings, and feeling like I wasn’t alone anymore could be real.
Permanent. Like I finally had something steady. +
Stupid.
The sob hits me before I can stop it. My body folds in on itself as everything I’ve been holding back crashes down all at once. I grip the edge of the counter to steady myself, my vision blurring as tears spill freely.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out, even though he can’t hear me. “I’m so sorry.”
Levi stirs, letting out a small cry, and I force myself to move. I pick him up, holding onto the one thing I didn’t lose.
“It’s okay,” I whisper to him, even as my voice shakes. “It’s okay…I’ve got you.”
That’s what matters. That’s what I chose. Even if it means breaking my own heart to do it. I press my face into his soft hair, holding him tighter as I try to breathe through the pain.
“We’re going to be okay,” I murmur, more to convince myself than him. “We’ll go home. Just us.”
Because we have to. Because I won’t let anyone take him. No matter what it costs me.
I’ll pack tonight. Not much to it—our clothes go in two bags, and everything else in this apartment isn’t ours anyway.
The crib in the living room, the new swing, the bottles in his cupboard, the little sound machine he bought because he read somewhere that white noise helps.
He bought all of it. He’ll come back, and it’ll all still be sitting here, and I hope it wrecks him. I hope he can’t look at any of it.
Our own things are still down the hall in the studio, where they’ve been the whole time. I never gave up the lease. Some part of me knew.
That’s the part that gets me. Even at my happiest, some cold little piece of me was keeping an exit open.