Page 48

48

MADISON

M y lungs burn, my ponytail sticking to the back of my neck as I slow to a stop outside our apartment.

My hands brace against my knees, my heart hammering in my chest.

It’s been weeks since I started running again.

At first, it was just something to do, a way to get out of my own head, to channel all the restless energy with nowhere to go.

But now?

Now, it’s something more.

It’s control.

A way to remind myself I’m still here.

I’m still trying.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead, my breathing still uneven as I unlock the door and step inside.

The apartment is quiet—too quiet.

“Lyla?” I call, kicking off my sneakers near the door.

No answer.

I frown slightly, checking my phone to see if she left a message, but there’s nothing.

Weird. She almost always texts if she’s going somewhere.

Shrugging it off, I grab a water from the fridge and take a long sip before heading toward the bathroom.

The moment I step under the warm spray of the shower, my muscles loosen, the tension in my shoulders easing.

This is another thing Dr. Martha and I have been working on—recognizing when I need something.

Slowing down. Letting myself feel instead of burying everything so deep, I can’t reach it again.

It’s…helping.

Baby steps.

At first, talking to her again was hard.

Every session felt like peeling back layers of my skin, exposing wounds I’d left untreated for too long.

But, little by little, I’ve been learning how to sit with the discomfort.

How to take what I feel and let it exist instead of running from it.

I’ve started journaling again—nothing big, just small entries when my thoughts get too heavy.

I’ve been eating better, actually putting effort into taking care of myself instead of just going through the motions.

I’ve even let Lyla drag me out for the occasional coffee date, something that felt impossible a few weeks ago.

For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m suffocating in my own skin.

I rinse off quickly, wringing the water from my hair before shutting off the shower.

I step out, wrapping myself in a towel and wiping the steam from the mirror.

The scars on my shoulder are still there, faint reminders of a past I can’t change, but I don’t flinch at them anymore.

They’re part of me, but they aren’t all of me.

I exhale, grabbing a t-shirt and shorts from my dresser before pulling them on.

My hair is still damp, dripping slightly onto my shoulders as I step back into the living room—just in time to hear the front door open.

Lyla steps inside, her keys jingling as she tosses them onto the counter.

I cross my arms, raising a brow.

“Where have you been?”

She hesitates for half a second, though she’s not quick enough to cover it .

Her eyes flick to me, then away.

“Nowhere.”

I narrow my gaze.

“Lyla.”

Lyla hesitates, just for a fraction of a second, before she sighs and rubs the back of her neck.

“I was, uh…saying goodbye to the guys.”

My stomach drops.

I blink at her, my heart suddenly hammering for a completely different reason.

“What?”

She winces, and that’s when I know.

Panic claws its way up my throat as my mind scrambles, trying to piece together what she just said, what it means.

Saying goodbye.

Goodbye.

No.

No, no, no?—

“What—” My voice shakes.

“What day is it?”

Lyla’s eyes flick to mine, and she swallows hard.

“Lyla,” I snap, my pulse pounding in my ears.

“What day is it?”

She exhales, her face softening.

“Mads?—”

I don’t wait for her to finish.

I bolt. Barefoot, hair still damp, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and shorts—I don’t care.

I rip open the door and sprint down the stairs, my feet slapping against the pavement as I take off down the street.

Jaxon’s leaving.

He’s leaving and I didn’t say anything.

Didn’t fight.

Didn’t tell him I love him, that I want him, that I’m done running.

I can’t be too late.

I won’t.

The wind whips against my skin as I push harder, my lungs burning, my legs screaming—but I don’t slow down.

I can’t.

His house comes into view, and my chest tightens .

His truck isn’t in the driveway.

My breath catches in my throat as I come to a stumbling stop in front of the house, my heart hammering against my ribs.

No. No, no, no?—

I sprint up the steps anyway, my hands shaking as I bang on the door.

Nothing.

I knock again, harder this time, my pulse roaring in my ears.

Please. Please.

Footsteps shuffle on the other side.

A second later, the door swings open?—

And it’s not Jaxon standing there.

It’s Logan.

His expression falters the second he sees me, his grip tightening on the doorknob.

He blinks once, like he’s surprised to see me.

And then, just like that—his face falls.

My stomach clenches.

“They already left, didn’t they?” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

Logan exhales, nodding once.

“Yeah. About twenty minutes ago.”

A sharp, painful weight slams into my chest, knocking the air from my lungs.

I’m too late.

I missed him.

Jaxon is gone.

I swallow past the lump in my throat, pressing my lips together to keep from completely falling apart.

Logan shifts, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Madison, I—” He stops, hesitating before he sighs.

“Look, before you go, I just… I need to say something.”

I don’t move.

I can’t.

My whole body feels locked in place, frozen in this moment—this horrible, gut-wrenching moment.

Logan takes another step forward, guilt written all over his face.

“I was a dick that night, at the party. The things I said…” He shakes his head.

“I never should’ve run my mouth like that. I didn’t know anything about you, and I had no right to judge.”

I just stare at him, barely able to process his words past the dull, pounding ache in my skull.

Logan exhales, his shoulders sagging slightly.

“I know I caused a lot of the shit that happened between you and Jaxon, and I don’t expect you to forgive me for it. But, for what it’s worth…I am sorry.”

I close my eyes, inhaling a shaky breath.

I swallow hard, nodding slightly.

“Okay.”

Logan shifts his feet, his brows pulling together.

“Okay?”

I exhale slowly, forcing myself to meet his gaze.

“I accept your apology.” My voice is quiet, even, but I mean it.

There’s no anger left—not for him, not for what happened that night.

The only thing inside me now is regret.

He nods, like maybe he wasn’t expecting me to actually say it, to accept it.

“Do you mind if I just…sit here for a bit?” I ask, my throat tight.

Logan studies me for a moment before stepping back.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Take your time.”

He hesitates, like he wants to say something else, but instead, he gives me a small nod and closes the door behind him, leaving me alone on the porch.

I sink down on the top step, wrapping my arms around my knees as the weight of everything crashes down around me.

Jaxon is gone. I had one shot to make things right, and I blew it.

The first drops of rain fall softly against the pavement, the scent thick in the air.

I tilt my head back, letting the cool droplets kiss my skin as I try to breathe past the tightness in my chest.

But it only gets heavier.

The sky opens, the rain falling harder, soaking through my t-shirt, my shorts, my hair.

And I let it .

I sit there, drenched, my heart pounding as panic threatens to consume me whole.

I feel like I’m suffocating, like I’m trapped in my own body, stuck in this horrible, awful reality I created.

No. I can’t let it end like this.

My hands shake as I yank my phone from my pocket, my fingers trembling as I scroll through my contacts.

I press Jaxon’s name.

The phone rings once.

Twice.

Then—voicemail.

My stomach drops, but I don’t hang up.

I press the phone to my ear, sucking in a ragged breath before the beep sounds.

And then, I spill everything.

“Jax…” My voice cracks, the rain pounding against the pavement.

“I—I don’t even know if you’ll listen to this. I don’t know if it’ll even matter after everything, but…I have to say it anyway.”

I stand abruptly, pacing the porch, my wet sneakers squeaking against the wood.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“For all of it. For hurting you. For leaving when all you ever did was stay. I was so goddamn scared, Jax. Scared of losing you, of ruining you, of how much I love you.”

The words slip out before I can stop them, and I freeze, my breath hitching.

I wipe the rain from my face with the back of my hand, even though it’s pointless.

“I love you,” I say again, stronger this time.

“And I don’t want to run anymore. I choose you. I choose us. I don’t care what happens. I don’t care about the risks. I just want you.”

My voice cracks, my chest heaving.

“I know I don’t deserve another chance, but if there’s even one part of you that still wants this, still wants me…” My voice breaks, and I have to press a hand to my stomach to keep from falling apart completely.

“Call me back.”

A heavy silence stretches before I whisper one last thing.

“Please.”

And then, with my heart completely in his hands, I hang up .

I stand there, still gripping my phone until it might shatter in my hands, my chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.

The rain hasn’t let up.

It soaks through my clothes, clings to my skin, drips from my hair in cold rivulets, but still, I don’t move.

I can’t. I’ve just put everything out there.

No walls, no defenses, no escape plan, just me—raw, exposed, standing in the middle of a storm I created.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to steady myself, but my whole body trembles.

I don’t know if it’s from the rain or the weight of what I just admitted.

I don’t even hear the truck pull up.

I’m so lost in my own swirling thoughts, in the pounding of my pulse, I don’t realize I’m not alone anymore, not until a voice—his voice—cuts through the storm.

“Well, that was quite the declaration.”

I jump, my whole body jerking as I whip around.

And there he is.

Jaxon Montgomery, standing at the bottom of the porch steps, soaked from the rain, his shirt clinging to every defined muscle, his dark hair sticking to his forehead.

His hands are tucked into his pockets, his head tilted slightly, amusement flickering in his deep brown eyes as he watches me, fighting a grin.

Like he heard everything.

My breath catches in my throat, my mind racing to catch up, but I can’t process anything except for the fact that he’s here.

I take a step back, my pulse hammering.

“You—” My voice falters.

“I thought you left.”

His eyes flicker, something unreadable passing through them.

“I almost did.” He exhales, glancing at the phone still clenched in my shaking hand.

“Good thing I forgot my phone, huh?”

I blink, my stomach flipping.

He was coming back anyway.

He would’ve been here even if I hadn’t called.

I swallow hard, shifting my weight, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You heard all of that? ”

He takes a step closer, rain dripping from his jaw, his gaze locked onto mine like he’s seeing straight through me.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I did.”

I press a trembling hand to my lips, my heart pounding against my ribs.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t think.

Jaxon watches me, still fighting that damn grin, still standing there like he isn’t the reason I just spilled my entire heart out like a fool into a voicemail I thought he’d listen to miles away from me.

I’m completely unmoored. I chose him.