Page 42 of Broken Bonds

I run for several hours until I’m exhausted and know I can go home, shower, collapse into bed—my bed—and get some sleep.

I missed sleeping next to Jax last night, but I felt too raw to deal with it. Didn’t want to say anything I couldn’t take back just because I was hurting.

Granted, it was also supposed to be punishment for him because he never sleeps as well as when I’m in bed with him, the two of us wrapped around each other.

Slowing my pace, I return to the parking area, stop at the outside shower, and shift back to rinse off. Yes, we planned well when we created this area and I’ve dang sure made good use of it throughout the years.

There aren’t any cars in the lot except mine, so I stay on two legs, retrieve my key fob, and walk back to my car, where I grab the microfiber towel I keep for just this kind of situation.

I mean, shifting and running, not running because I need to burn off dark emotions boiling inside me.

Fortunately, I don’t have to do this very often for anything other than fun and the need to expend energy.

Once my car’s running and the AC’s blowing, I finally pick up my phone and check it to find a text from Asshole.

I mean Jax.

I love you, and I’m sorry. I want to talk about this, okay? Please let me know you’re safe. If you want to take today off, please do. I’ll tell Todd we’re letting the new guy settle in for a few days before we start introductions. Let’s sit down tonight and talk, please? I’ll make dinner and we can snuggle.

Okay, that’s a good start in the right direction.

I mean, yeah, before the explosion I was looking forward to playtime with Todd, but this is more important. I know I wouldn’t have been in the mood for playtime tonight with this hanging over my head.

It also feels like another verse in the same chapter. And I don’t get it because, despite all the evidence to the contrary, Jax is his own worst critic. That part I understand—he’s responsible for the health and safety of our pack.

But I’m done feeling like I’m alone and aimlessly wandering through purgatory. We need to settle this and either start trying or move on. I can’t do this dance anymore.

Tossing my phone into the passenger seat, I decide to take the long way home. It adds fifteen minutes to my drive but winds through wooded land that soothes my soul.

It’s so different between here compared to where I grew up, the geography and climate. The very feel of this place soothes me, like I was meant to be here. There are beautiful woods and landscapes all over the country, but settling here felt right. Maybe part of that’s because of Jax, I don’t know. But after having literally lived all over the country, there’s no place I’d rather be than here.

At home, the hot tub’s the perfect temp, so I crawl in there first before I swim a few laps in the pool. By the time I finish, I’m ready to eat, and I stare at my phone as I contemplate my response to Jax. I don’t want to be petty?—

Scratch that, I totally want to be petty.

But that’s not healthy and I know it.

I’m home. See you tonight. Going to take a nap.

Hopefully, he won’t call. It’s too soon for me to talk to him unless it’s an emergency. I’m feeling too…

Brittle.

I feel brittle.

Emotionally.

Maybe I should decisively settle the matter for both of us and wrap my head around the fact that we won’t have pups. Get it through my mind once and for all, cry it out, and move the hell on.

It’ll take me…a while, though. Because it’s not what I envisioned my future—our future—would look like.

After I make a sandwich, I crack open a beer—fuck it, I’m off today, right?—and carry it into the bedroom. At least he made the bed. Jax is good about helping out around the house and considerately pulls his fair share of the load. Always has.

Stretching out naked in bed, I turn on the TV and channel-surf while I eat. I need something mindless that will help me chill, help me lose track of time, and keep my mind off my troubles.

Maybe Jax will prove me wrong tonight, I don’t know.

But I won’t count on it.