“I do,” I said, trying my hardest to make him see that he wasn’t alone in his misery.
He turned on his heels and his eyes pierced into me with their sadness. Within that moment I felt the weight of the world he’d been carrying around all on his own. “How? How do you understand?”
“Because I’m the reason my parents and daughter died,” I blurted out. Those were my nine words. The nine words that burned as they rolled off the tip of my tongue. The nine words I hadn’t spoken out loud since—ever. I’d never said those words. Yoana forbid me to speak them, but each day I felt the weight of them. Just because words weren’t spoken didn’t mean they weren’t felt, and those words suffocated me on a daily basis.
Jax’s eyes softened as he stood there with complete bafflement at my statement. My nerves shot through the sky, rocketing into the atmosphere, reminding me of how big a person’s hurts could be in a single moment.
I lowered my head and fiddled with my fingers, because looking into those brown eyes of confusion was making my heart ache more than it could handle. “There was a bad storm, and I was driving my family to a dinner out. It was right after a fight with my husband. He’d been sleeping around with a coworker and I found out. He called me delusional, emotional, and unstable. He was the master of gaslighting, making me feel as if I were at fault when I did nothing wrong. He shut down my concerns without even giving me a chance for conversation on the subject. He always did that—turned away from me when I needed his reassurance most. During the storm, he texted me and told me he wanted a divorce. I glanced down at my phone when I got the message, and that was all it took. One split second—one text message, and I hit a slick spot on the road. The car spun and my whole life changed. That was over a year ago, but somedays it feels like mere minutes ago.”
He didn’t say a word to me, yet he didn’t run away either. When the silence became too overpowering, I looked up to find him staring my way, and for the life of me, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. I wondered if Jax ever let anyone close enough to be able to read his thoughts.
His lips parted, but it was as if he couldn’t figure out the right words to say. Were there any right words in a situation like that?
He cleared his throat. His brows knitted.
My mouth opened to apologize. It was clear I overshared. It was clear I was making this situation out to be something it wasn’t. It was clear that he was going to hug me.
Wait.
What?
He was hugging me.
Jax’s body was wrapped around mine as he pulled me in close to him and held on as if he had plans on staying there for the rest of his life. His big, strong arms pooled around my whole frame, and I melted. I melted against his body and his soul. I melted into the history of our yesterdays.
He smelled like cedar and my favorite memories.
I wanted to hold on as long as I could. I wanted to breathe him in more and feel his comfort until I fell asleep that night. I wanted to thank him for giving me a moment to fall apart in his arms, even though I was certain I was supposed to be comforting him, not the other way around.
When it came time to part, he stepped back appearing a bit embarrassed by his sudden embrace. I wiped at my eyes and let out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t see that coming.”
“Yeah.” He smiled, or at least I imagined he did. “Me either.”
“I should get out of your hair. I just wanted you to know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here.” I began turning away when he called out to me.
“Kennedy.”
I turned back to wait for his next words. It seemed conversation didn’t come easy for him. That wasn’t new—it never had been easy for him. He cleared his throat once more as he gestured to the space around us. “You can come here whenever you need to clear your head.”
My chest tightened from his words. To some, they might’ve seemed a bit meaningless and cold for the truths I’d shared with him about my parents and my daughter, but from someone like Jax it was much more than that.
He was inviting me to visit his oasis, his safe haven, and it was an invitation I was going to accept.
“Thank you, Jax.”
He didn’t say a word, but before he turned away from me, the left side of his lips curved up into what was almost a sympathy smile. He raked one hand through his messy hair and sighed. “I’m bad at this.”