Chapter 12 - Jack

I’m fuming by the time we get home. I slam the door behind me, and the sound echoes through the house. Fiona stirs in her stroller, letting out a little whimper. It’s enough to snap me out of my rage just for a second, and I crouch down, unbuckling her with hands that are shaking more than I’d like to admit.

“Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart,” I murmur, scooping her up and holding her close. She snuggles into my chest, her tiny fingers clutching at my shirt, and I take a deep breath, trying to push down the simmering anger that’s threatening to boil over. I press a kiss to her forehead, inhaling the sweet baby smell that always manages to calm me down, even if it’s just a little.

Sonya’s watching me from across the room. Her expression is unreadable, but I can feel the tension radiating off her in waves. I know she’s trying to keep it together, trying to act like Tanner’s words didn’t get under her skin, but I saw the look on her face when he opened his mouth. She was hurt, and that bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

“He’s always been an asshole, but that?” I say, my voice tight as I set Fiona in her playpen. She immediately reaches for her favorite stuffed bunny, content to gnaw on its ears, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the room. I envy her for that.

Sonya crosses her arms, leaning against the wall like she’s trying to make herself smaller. “Jack, it’s fine. He’s not worth it.”

“No, it’s not fine,” I snap, running a hand through my hair, frustrated that I can’t seem to get a grip on my temper. “Tanner had no right to say those things about you. About us. I should’ve done more—”

She pushes off the wall, closing the distance between us. Her hand settles on my shoulder before she says, “Jack, stop. There was nothing more you could’ve done. Tanner’s an ass, and his opinion doesn’t matter.”

“I’m going to go over there,” I growl.

Sonya laughs and rolls her eyes. “What, are you going to beat him up?”

I shrug. “I might. Or at least make him apologize.”

“Because that’ll definitely make things better.”

I let out a harsh laugh, pacing the living room. “Maybe I should. Maybe he needs to learn that he can’t just talk shit about people like that and get away with it.”

Sonya steps in front of me, her hand on my chest to stop me from pacing. Her touch is firm but gentle, and it sends a jolt of something electric through me that I’m trying really hard to ignore. “Jack, stop. You don’t need to go after him. He’s not worth it, okay? Let it go.”

“I can’t just let it go, Sonya!” I snap, and I immediately regret the way her hand flinches back like I’ve burned her. I lower my voice so it’s softer now, but still loaded with anger that has nowhere to go. “The way he looked at you, like you were nothing. Like you didn’t matter. And he doesn’t get to do that.”

She searches my eyes, and I can see the conflict there, the way she’s trying to hold on to that calm, composed exterior she always wears like armor. But it cracks, just a little, and her voice wavers. “I’m used to people like Tanner. It comes with being a curvy girl. I’ve heard worse, Jack. Trust me.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and suddenly all that anger shifts, becoming something colder and sharper. I’ve never really asked Sonya about her past, about why she’s here or what she’s running from, and now I feel like an idiot for not digging deeper. She shouldn’t have to be used to people treating her like crap. She’s worth more than that, and Tanner’s the last straw in a long line of people who need to get that through their thick skulls.

“I’m not,” I say, my voice rougher than I intended. “I’m not used to people treating you like that. I tolerated it one time, but I’m not gonna stand for it.”

There’s a beat of silence, heavy and loaded, and then Sonya does something that throws me completely off-balance. She laughs, a soft, disbelieving sound that’s more sad than amused. “Why do you care so much, Jack? Seriously. You’ve never given a damn about what people think.”

I don’t know how to answer that without diving into waters I’ve been trying to avoid. The truth is, I care because it’s Sonya. Because she’s not just some random person I’m living with—she’s become a part of this weird, messy family we’re building, and the thought of anyone making her feel like she’s less than enough makes my blood boil. But how the hell do I say that without making it sound like… more than it is?

Instead, I just step closer, lifting my hand to brush a strand of hair from her face. She stills, her breath hitching, and for a moment, we’re caught in this tense, fragile space between what we’re saying and what we’re both too scared to admit.

“Because I care,” I finally say, my voice low. “And I’m not gonna let anyone make you feel like you’re not good enough. Not Tanner. Not anyone.”

She blinks, her eyes wide and searching, and I swear I can see the exact moment when the walls she’s been holding up start to crack. It’s like she’s waiting for me to do something, to prove that I’m not just all talk. And before I can think it through, before I can stop myself, I’m leaning in, my hand slipping to the back of her neck as I close the distance between us.

Our lips meet, and it’s like a dam breaking, all the tension and frustration and unspoken words spilling over in a rush. Sonya gasps against my mouth, and her fingers curl into my shirt as she pulls me closer, and I swear I’ve never felt anything like this—like she’s setting my whole world on fire and I’m too far gone to care about the consequences.

It’s messy and desperate, the way we’re clinging to each other like we’re afraid to let go. Her mouth is soft and warm, tasting faintly of the hard lemonade she had at Jane’s, and I can’t get enough. My hands roam down her back, feeling the curve of her waist, the heat of her skin through her shirt. Every touch sends another jolt of heat racing through me.

She’s everything I didn’t know I needed, and the way she’s kissing me back like she’s been waiting for this as long as I have, makes it impossible to stop. I deepen the kiss, tilting her head back so I can taste more of her, and she lets out this soft, breathy moan that sends my mind spinning. It’s all too easy to imagine this going further. To feel her pressed up against the wall, her body arching into mine as I—

“Jack,” she murmurs against my lips, her voice shaky but insistent.

The sound of my name on her lips is like a bucket of cold water, and I pull back, breathing hard, my forehead resting against hers as I try to get a grip on myself. What the hell am I doing? This is Sonya. She’s the one person who’s been keeping this whole mess together, the one who’s been here for Fiona when I couldn’t be. And here I am, making everything more complicated, just like Tanner said I would.

I step back and drop my hands to my sides, forcing myself to put some distance between us. Sonya’s staring at me. Her eyes are wide and confused, and there’s this flash of hurt that cuts through me like a knife. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

“We can’t.” My voice comes out rough, like I’m barely holding it together. Like I might lose it any second. “Sonya, we can’t do this.”

She blinks, and the hurt in her eyes deepens. “Jack, I—”

“I’m sorry,” I cut in, running a hand through my hair, trying to untangle the mess I’ve just made. “I shouldn’t have… Tanner’s right, okay? This is… this is what he meant, and I can’t… I won’t prove him right.”

She flinches like I’ve slapped her, and I feel like the biggest idiot in the world. Her eyes are glassy, and she takes a step back, wrapping her arms around herself like she’s trying to hold herself together. “I thought you—”

“I’m sorry,” I say again, and it sounds hollow, even to me. I want to reach out, I want to fix this, but I know I’ve already messed up enough. I’ve crossed a line I can’t uncross, and now Sonya’s looking at me like I’m just another guy who’s let her down.

She swallows hard, blinking rapidly like she’s fighting back tears, and my chest tightens with guilt. “I should go,” she mumbles, turning away before I can say anything else. She heads toward her room, and I can’t bring myself to stop her. Not when I’m the one who’s put that look on her face.

I’m left standing in the middle of the living room with my hands clenched into fists as the sound of her door closing echoes through the house. The silence that follows is suffocating, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve just made everything a hundred times worse.

Tanner’s voice echoes in my mind, taunting and relentless, and I feel sick. I’ve just proved him right. I’ve just proved that I can’t be trusted to keep things professional, to keep my hands to myself when it matters most. And now Sonya’s hurt, and I’ve got no one to blame but myself.

I stare at the closed door of Sonya’s room, my mind racing as I try to figure out how to fix this, how to make things right when I’ve already crossed a line that I can’t uncross. But for the first time in a long time, I’m at a loss, and the only thing I’m certain of is that I’ve just royally screwed everything up.

Fiona starts to fuss, and the sound breaks through my haze of self-loathing. I walk over and pick her up, hugging her tightly, and the simple comfort of her warm, solid weight in my arms is almost enough to soothe the ache in my chest. Almost.

Sonya deserves so much better. I don’t deserve her. I can’t believe I just kissed her. I’m an idiot. But I’ll fix this. Somehow, I’ll find a way to make it right. Even if it kills me. Even if she never wants to see me again.

I’ll make this right.

For her.

For Fiona.

No matter what.