Chapter 6 - Jack

The week passes in a blur of late-night feedings, diaper disasters, and more bottles than I knew a single baby could go through. If it weren’t for Sonya, I’m pretty sure Fiona and I would be living in a perpetual state of doom and gloom. She’s been a godsend, swooping in when I fumble a diaper change or when Fiona’s cries turn into a full-blown meltdown. Watching her handle Fiona is like watching someone fluent in a language I barely understand.

“Hey, you’re not terrible at this,” Sonya remarks one afternoon as I manage to burp Fiona without any major incidents. Her tone is teasing, but there’s a hint of genuine praise in there, too.

“High praise,” I shoot back, smirking. “I’m aiming for ‘not terrible’ to be my new life motto.”

Sonya just rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at her lips. She’s been like that all week—quick with a quip, but somehow softer around the edges than I expected. And as much as we clash, I’m starting to find comfort in our back-and-forth. Most of the women I’ve known would be tripping over themselves to agree with me or laugh at my jokes. But Sonya? She’s not afraid to call me out, and weirdly, I think that’s part of what draws me to her.

It doesn’t hurt that she’s easy on the eyes, either. I catch myself glancing at her more often than I should—at the way her curves fill out her jeans or the way her bright red hair always seems to fall just right, even when she’s pulling it back in a messy bun. There’s a confidence in the way she carries herself, an unspoken challenge that makes me want to push back just to see what she’ll do. And lately, I can’t stop thinking about how good she looks doing all of this—balancing Fiona on one hip, scolding me over a misstep, all while looking like she’s barely breaking a sweat.

But something’s shifted in the past couple of days. Sonya’s usual spark has dimmed. She’s quieter, more subdued, and it’s throwing me off. I catch her staring off into space more than once, her brow furrowed like she’s carrying some invisible weight. When I ask if everything’s okay, she brushes it off with a half-hearted smile, but I know better. She’s tired—exhausted, even—and it’s not just from watching Fiona.

One morning, I wake up early to the sound of Sonya moving around in the kitchen. I peek in to find her leaning against the counter. Her eyes are barely open as she stirs her coffee with the kind of sluggishness that comes from not getting enough sleep. It’s not even nine yet, and she looks like she’s been up for hours.

“Late night?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe.

Sonya startles, nearly spilling her coffee. “Yeah, you know how it is,” she says, her voice scratchy with fatigue. “Got a shift at the coffee shop before I come back here. Then I’ve got the diner later.”

I frown, watching as she sips her coffee like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. “You’re still working those other jobs?”

Sonya shrugs, but the movement looks more like a slump of defeat. “Gotta pay the bills somehow.”

“You know you don’t have to work yourself into the ground, right? If this is too much—”

“I’m fine, Jack,” she cuts in, her tone sharper than usual. She sets her coffee cup down with a little more force than necessary, the clatter echoing in the quiet kitchen. “I’ve got it handled.”

But it’s obvious she doesn’t, not really. I watch her for a moment, noting the dark circles under her eyes and the way her shoulders sag as if the weight of her responsibilities is physically pressing down on her. It’s not just exhaustion. It’s something deeper, something that she’s trying hard to hide.

“Okay,” I say finally, letting it drop for now. But the concern lingers, gnawing at me as I go through the motions of the day. Fiona keeps me busy, but my thoughts keep drifting back to Sonya, to how she seems to be unraveling at the edges. I want to ask her more, but every time I try, she deflects with a joke or a quick change of subject.

Later that day, when Sonya heads out for her shift at the diner, I make my way over to Reiner’s place. He’s elbow-deep in an engine, tinkering with that same single-minded focus he’s had since we were kids. I lean against the wall, waiting until he notices me. When he finally looks up, wiping his hands on a rag, he gives me that familiar, scrutinizing look.

“You’ve got that look,” Reiner says, tossing the rag aside. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” I lie, though it’s half-hearted. “Just needed to get out for a bit. Thought I’d see what you were up to.”

Reiner raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. And?”

I exhale, rubbing the back of my neck. “It’s about Sonya. She’s… I don’t know. She’s been off lately. Tired, quiet. It’s not like her.”

Reiner nods slowly. “She’s been burning the candle at both ends, from what Jane says. Working three jobs just to keep her head above water. Rent, bills, all of it piling up. She doesn’t want to rely on anyone. Doesn’t want to move in with us or ask for help.”

I frown, feeling a stab of guilt. “She didn’t say anything about that. I knew she was busy, but…”

“She won’t,” Reiner declares with a shrug. “That’s Sonya for you. She’s too proud to ask, even when she’s drowning.”

I take a moment to absorb that, thinking back on all the times I’ve seen her brush off my questions with a smile or a joke. The way she’s always on the move, never still for long, like she’s trying to outrun something. “I just… I don’t want her to burn out. She’s been doing so much for Fiona, for me, and I haven’t exactly made it easy.”

Reiner gives me a pointed look. “You think?”

I roll my eyes, but the jab lands. Reiner’s right—I’ve leaned on Sonya more than I probably should, taking her help for granted because she’s been so damn good at picking up the slack. And now, realizing how much she’s struggling behind the scenes, I feel like an idiot for not noticing sooner.

“What do I do?” I ask, feeling more lost than I’d like to admit. “I mean, how do I help without making it worse?”

Reiner shrugs, wiping a smear of oil off his cheek. “Talk to her. Be straight. She’s tough, but she’s not invincible. Just let her know she doesn’t have to carry it all by herself.”

I nod, my mind already racing with a dozen different ways to bring it up. Sonya isn’t the type to want pity, and the last thing I want is to make her feel cornered or weak. But I can’t just stand by and watch her wear herself down, either.

Reiner’s voice cuts into my thoughts, grounding me back to the moment. “Strange to see you so invested. She must really be getting under your skin, huh?”

I shoot him a glare. There was a time when a comment like that would have sparked a round of teasing, but I can tell by the glint in his eyes that he isn’t looking to start anything. He’s genuinely curious.

“I don’t know,” I say with a shrug, though it’s not a total lie. “I mean, she’s a handful, but… she’s not so bad, either.”

“Mm-hmm,” Reiner hums, a smirk spreading across his face. “Maybe it’s more than just a ‘handful,’ if you know what I mean.”

I groan, shaking my head. Leave it to Reiner to make things awkward. “No, man, it’s not like that. We’re just… I don’t know, I guess we’ve got some kind of truce going on. We’re not at each other’s throats every five seconds at least. More like every ten.”

Reiner just grins. “That’s progress, coming from you.”

“Yeah, yeah. All right, I’m going to go try to convince Supernanny not to run herself into the ground.”

“Good luck,” Reiner calls as I walk away, but there’s a knowing tone to his voice that tells me he thinks I’m in over my head.

I find Sonya in the living room, bouncing Fiona on her knee with a tired smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She looks worn down, like she’s running on fumes, and I know I can’t keep ignoring this. If Reiner’s right—and he usually is—Sonya’s holding herself together with spit and duct tape, and it’s only a matter of time before she breaks.

“Hey,” I start, trying to keep my tone light as I sit down across from her. “Got a minute?”

Sonya glances up. “Sure. What’s up?”

I rub the back of my neck, searching for the right words. “I’ve noticed you’ve been… off lately. Quiet. You okay?”

She shrugs, but her shoulders are tense. “I’m fine, Jack. Just tired.”

“Tired doesn’t cover it,” I push, keeping my gaze steady on hers. “Reiner told me you’re really pushing it, Sonya.”

Sonya’s eyes flash with something—anger, maybe, or pride—but she quickly masks it, focusing on Fiona like she’s the most fascinating thing in the world. “Reiner needs to mind his own business.”

“Maybe, but he’s not wrong. You’re running yourself ragged, and it’s not sustainable. Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because it’s not your problem,” Sonya snaps, finally looking up to meet my eyes. “I didn’t ask you to worry about me, Jack. I’m handling it.”

“Are you?” I counter, not letting up. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re drowning. And I don’t get why you’re pushing yourself this hard when you don’t have to.”

Sonya sighs, a heavy, tired sound that seems to come from somewhere deep. “I just… I want to do this on my own. I don’t want to rely on anyone.”

“I get that,” I say, keeping my voice gentle but firm. “But it’s okay to need help sometimes. We all do.”

“It’s not that simple,” she murmurs, her grip tightening on Fiona. “I came here because I needed a fresh start, okay? Away from Stardust Hollow, away from my ex and all that mess. No one asked me to come. Jane and Reiner didn’t invite me; I just showed up and decided to stay. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden to anybody. You’re helping me out more than you know, Sonya. But you’re no good to Fiona—or to yourself—if you’re stretched this thin.”

Sonya’s expression softens, but I can still see the walls she’s keeping up. “I didn’t want to live with Jane and Reiner. They’re newly mated, and I didn’t want to intrude. Same with the others. Everyone’s married, moving on with their lives. I just… I wanted to be independent. Prove I could make it on my own.”

“You’re proving it. But you don’t have to do it alone. You’ve got people here who care about you, who want to help. And that includes me.”

Sonya looks down at Fiona, who’s now happily gnawing on his tiny fist. “It’s just… hard. Admitting I need help.”

“Then don’t think of it as help,” I suggest, leaning forward. “Think of it as a partnership. You’re already doing so much for Fiona and me. Let me do something for you in return.”

She raises an eyebrow, and I can see the skepticism etched across her face. “And what, exactly, are you proposing?”

I take a deep breath, trying to steady the nerves rattling in my chest. “Move in with me. Quit your other jobs, focus on Fiona, and you won’t have to worry about rent at all. I’ll even increase your salary.”

Sonya blinks, clearly taken aback. “Move in? With you?”

I nod, pressing on before she can refuse. “You’d have your own room. We’ll share a bathroom, but I’ll stay out of your way. It’s not charity, Sonya. It’s practical. You’re already here most of the day, and it’ll make things easier for both of us.”

Sonya hesitates, and her gaze flickers to the hallway that leads to the spare room. I can see the conflict in her eyes—pride and practicality warring inside her head. “I don’t know, Jack. That’s a lot to ask.”

“It’s not. Look, you’re already juggling too much. This way, you can focus on what you’re best at—taking care of Fiona. You’d still be earning, still independent, but without the burnout.”

She chews on her bottom lip, clearly weighing her options. “What about my rent? I can’t just break my lease.”

“We’ll figure it out,” I promise. “Sublease, find someone to take over, whatever it takes. You shouldn’t have to kill yourself trying to make ends meet.”

Sonya lets out a slow breath, her eyes drifting to Fiona, who’s now dozing off against her shoulder. “And you’re sure this is what you want?”

I nod without hesitation. “Absolutely. You’re a big part of why Fiona’s even settled. You’ve been here every step of the way, and I want you here, Sonya. I need you here.”

Her gaze sharpens, searching my face for any sign of doubt or hidden motives. I let her look, not shying away from the scrutiny. Finally, she sighs, her shoulders sagging in what looks like reluctant acceptance.

“Okay,” she says quietly. “I’ll do it. I’ll move in.”

Relief floods through me, and I offer her a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Sonya. You won’t regret it, I promise.”

Sonya nods, though her expression remains wary. “We’ll see.”

I watch Sonya as she stands, cradling Fiona with that effortless grace she’s got, and something tightens in my chest. This is good—she’ll be here, and we’ll figure things out. But the reality of living together, day in and day out, hits me like a punch I wasn’t expecting. She’s not just moving in; she’s moving into my space, my life. And Sonya’s the kind of woman who doesn’t hold back, who’ll call me out on every screw-up and expect me to step up.

I swallow hard as the weight of it all settles in. It’s not just about Fiona anymore. It’s about Sonya and me sharing a roof, figuring out how to coexist without biting each other’s heads off. Sonya’s got her own way of doing things, and I’m not exactly known for compromising. Our constant bickering isn’t going to magically disappear just because we’ve decided to play house. If anything, it’s going to get more intense.

I can already picture the fights over the little things—her nagging me to clean up, me pushing back just to see her flare up. It’s a stupid, endless loop, and we’re both too stubborn to back down. But then there’s the other side, the one where I can’t deny how much I’m starting to enjoy her being here, even when she’s driving me nuts.

As she walks toward the nursery, I can’t shake the nagging thought that maybe I’ve just signed up for more than I bargained for. Living with Sonya means I’ll have to deal with her on a whole new level, and I’m not sure I’m ready for the reality of what that looks like. Because the truth is, the more time I spend around her, the more I’m starting to see past the arguments and the tough exterior. And that scares the hell out of me.

This isn’t going to be easy. Sonya’s fierce and opinionated, and she’s not going to let me off the hook when things get tough. But maybe that’s exactly what I need—a kick in the ass to be better, to do better.

Or maybe it’s going to blow up in my face, and I’ll be left wondering why I ever thought living with Sonya Welsh was a good idea.