CHAPTER FOURTEEN

April"s footsteps echoed with a rhythmic cadence as she traversed the polished wooden floors of the bed and breakfast, her path leading her towards Eamon's room. The quaint charm of the house, which had been filled with tranquil silence just an hour earlier, now seemed like a deceptive mask for the discord brewing beneath its roof. As she neared the door, the muffled sounds of raised voices broke through the stillness, shattering the illusion of peace.

The distinct timbre of female voices in conflict was impossible to mistake; it was Julia and Chloe, their words intertwined in a racket of anger that seeped through the walls. April paused at the threshold, taking a deep breath to prepare herself for the emotional tempest that awaited her on the other side.

She pressed her palm against the cool wood of the door and pushed it open, stepping into the eye of the storm. Jackson stood there, his broad frame a barrier between his sisters, Julia and Chloe, who were locked in a verbal duel. Their faces were flushed with emotion, their gestures wild and unrestrained. Whatever they were arguing about was lost in the tangle of their overlapping shouts, leaving April grasping for context.

Amidst the chaos, Jackson caught sight of April. His dark eyes met hers, carrying a weight of guilt and helplessness that spoke volumes. There was no need for words; his expression alone conveyed his regret over whatever had unfolded in this room.

April"s eyes darted between the sisters, then back to Jackson who was caught in the middle. A silent plea etched across her face, she gestured toward the cacophony with a tilt of her head, imploring him for some semblance of understanding.

With a weary sigh, Jackson extricated himself from the embattled duo and sidestepped toward April. He leaned in close, his voice barely audible above the din. "I thought if I put them together in here, they"d talk it out," he murmured, the rumble of his voice hinting at underlying frustration. "Told them they can"t leave until they figure things out."

Her brow furrowed as she processed Jackson"s well-meant but misguided intervention. She reached up, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead in a tender yet reproachful gesture. "I love that you want to fix this, really," she said, her voice soft but laced with concern. "But I'm not sure trapping them in a room is going to build any bridges."

Jackson offered a sheepish half-smile, his eyes reflecting a mix of resolve and resignation. "I know words ain"t my strong suit," he conceded, his gaze dropping momentarily before meeting hers again.

"But I had to try something," Jackson continues explaining. "It was eating me alive that they won't talk to each other. And if this continues much longer, I'm not sure what's going to happen to them. To the family. I need them to just get along. This might be the last time they'll be forced to be together. I'd appreciate it if they chose to see each other more in the next ten years."

April studied Jackson"s downcast eyes, the way his hands fidgeted with the edge of his shirt—a familiar sight. It was this same inability to articulate that in the past had led them through a maze of misunderstandings. Only when they had paused, looked beyond words, did they discover clarity. A thought sparked within her—Chloe and Julia might be ensnared in a similar dance of miscommunication.

Her future sister-in-laws might be tangled in a web of confusion. April wondered how many times this happened in childhood and they were simply forced to find a way to deal with it because they lived together.

A gust of wind howled against the house, rattling the windows with such ferocity that it sliced through the verbal chaos. Silence abruptly fell upon the room like a heavy curtain. April held her breath, watching as the sisters ceased their squabble, both glancing toward the trembling glass. Even Jackson lifted his gaze, tension evident in the set of his jaw.

The momentary stillness allowed April"s racing thoughts to catch up with the pounding of her heart. It didn't matter that they had excuses, it mattered that they all seemed to choose this weekend to fight and scream at each other instead of enjoy the time together. Or at least fake it so April didn't drive herself insane.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, feeling the anger seep into her veins like poison. She wanted to scream, to shake sense into everyone present, to end this storm of emotions that threatened to tear apart the very seams of the family she was about to join.

She could almost taste the bitter tang of her frustration, each breath she drew charged with the electric current of her building ire. Yet, beneath the tempestuous surface, her resolve solidified. She needed to bridge the gap not with words, but with understanding—something she knew all too well could mend fences and heal wounds.

The silence shattered as quickly as it had fallen. Chloe"s hands flew up, a gesture of exasperation that seemed to claw at the very air between them. "If only you"d come to see my life in the city, Julia," she spat, her voice a razor-sharp challenge, "you might think twice before passing judgment on me."

Julia stood her ground, arms crossed over her chest like a shield. Her eyes, usually gentle and filled with maternal warmth, now blazed with a fire that could scorch the earth. "And maybe, just maybe," she countered, her words weighty with accusation, "if you bothered to remember where you came from, you wouldn"t be so enamored with what you"ve turned into."

April watched, heart sinking, as the sisters" faces flushed with anger, their stances rigid and defensive. Every muscle in her body tensed, eager to leap into the fray and meditate. But the words lodged in her throat, useless and unformed.

The room twisted with tension, a palpable force that seemed to press against April"s chest, stealing her breath. She saw Jackson"s shoulders slump ever so slightly, the corners of his mouth turning down in resignation. The hope that had sparked in his eyes when he ushered them together was now snuffed out, replaced by a weary acceptance.

April felt sorry for all of them, but not enough to intervene now. She knew that if she did, she would let out all of her anger on them, when what they really needed was compassion.

As if on cue, the sisters turned heel, their stormy exit punctuated by the creak of the floorboards beneath their synchronized steps. Julia paused at the threshold, casting a backward glance at Jackson that was both apologetic and final. "You tried, bud," she said, her voice softer now but edged with a bitterness that echoed long after the door clicked shut behind them. "But some bridges are too burnt to cross again."

April remained motionless, her gaze lingering on the closed door, the space suddenly hollow and echoing with lost opportunities. She felt the myriad of emotions swirling within her—confusion, regret, the sting of failure—and yet, she couldn"t find the means to express them. No soothing words or comforting gestures surfaced; it was as if the raw discord had stripped her of her ability to connect, to heal, to make whole what had been fractured before her very eyes.

April stepped forward, her arms gently encircling Jackson as he stood motionless in the middle of the room. His body was a column of quiet strength, yet she could feel the faint tremor of his frustration through the fabric of his shirt. His face, when it met hers, carried the weight of resignation—a silent admission that his efforts had fallen short.

She tightened her embrace, offering solace without words. The heat from his body seeped into her own, a subtle exchange of comfort that required neither explanation nor response. They stood together, united in the aftermath of familial discord, two figures seeking equilibrium in the balance of support and acceptance.

As April rested her head against Jackson"s chest, the steady rhythm of his heart beneath her ear was a reminder of the life they were building—one that defied the chaos around them. Yet within her, a tempest brewed. Her hands clenched slightly at his back, nails grazing the cotton material, betraying the inner turmoil she harbored.

"It's alright," she told him. It was her turn to be there for her fiance, since he'd been here for her so many times before. "It'll all be okay."

She didn't want to tell him about how angry she was. How she was mad at his sisters for not even trying after all the effort he'd put in to helping them. No, she couldn't put that on him now. She decided to let it lie where it sat now.

Around them, the bed and breakfast lay silent, a stark contrast to the cacophony of raised voices that had filled it moments ago. It was a silence that spoke volumes, and in it, April found herself grappling with an anger that mirrored the estranged sisters". It simmered just below the surface, a question burning in her mind: Why couldn"t peace find its way into these walls and wrap its gentle fingers around each troubled heart?

Jackson"s warmth was a balm, yet even as she stood there, feeling secured by his presence, the fire of vexation within her refused to be doused. She yearned for harmony, for the simple gift of understanding to pass from soul to soul, filling the spaces between with something more than tension and unspoken regrets.

For now, though, this hug would have to suffice—a testament to their shared hope that, despite the odds, unity might someday be restored amidst the beautiful, broken pieces of their assembled family.