Page 43

Chapter forty-two

I can’t be the only one standing in the ring

Jake

T he house is too quiet when we walk in. Nina says goodnight, leaving the silence echoing around us. Charlie paces the living room, arms crossed tightly, barely holding it together. I can see the cracks, her panic creeping in, and all I want is to fix it.

“I can’t believe him,” she mutters. “How does he still have this hold over me?”

Her words twist like a knife, because that’s exactly what’s happening. Alex still has some kind of fucking grip on her. Despite everything we’ve talked about, he’s still in her head, twisting her emotions. It makes me feel powerless.

“Charlie, don’t let him get to you like this,” I say, fighting to keep my voice calm. “You know exactly what he’s doing—manipulating you, again.”

She stops pacing, eyes flashing as they meet mine. “I know that, Jake! But what am I supposed to do? He’s threatening to take my kids back to New Zealand!”

“He won’t,” I say firmly, taking a step toward her. “He’s a bluffing asshole. He’s trying to scare you into giving in.”

Her arms drop to her sides and she stares at me. “But what if he’s not bluffing? What if he actually tries to take them? He’s got the money, the resources… I have no legal documentation, no agreements, no paper trail. It’s all been verbal.”

I reach for her, but she steps back, and the distance between us suddenly feels like a chasm.

“Th en we’ll fight him,” I say, my voice sharper than I intend. “We’ll fight like hell and we won’t back down.”

She shakes her head and starts pacing again, and then she mutters the one thing that makes the floor drop out from under me. “Maybe it’d just be easier if I went back to New Zealand.”

I stop dead, the room suddenly too quiet, too still.

“ What ?”

She shrinks slightly, looking down. “It’d save the kids from all this. Might be easier.”

“You’re kidding, right?” The hurt leaks through despite me trying to hold it back. “You’re seriously telling me that after everything you’ve built here, you’d give up because it’s easier ?”

Her eyes fly up, blazing with guilt and frustration. “I’m not giving up , Jake! I’m trying to think about what’s best for my kids. What am I supposed to do?”

“You don’t run,” I snap, the frustration boiling over. “You fight. You think giving in to Alex is what’s best? Running back to New Zealand, away from the life we’re building? From a place where the kids are safe and loved by someone who actually gives a shit?”

She flinches, her lips tightening. “It’s not about running away. It’s about protecting my kids. Going back might be better for them.”

The hurt flares hot in my chest. “Better for them—or easier for you?”

"That’s not fair," she whispers.

“No, what’s not fair is even considering leaving what we have here. Do you really think I’m going to just stand here and let you walk away from all of this? From us ?”

“You don’t have kids Jake, you don’t get it!”

And there it is. The gut punch.

The words hang between us as I step back, feeling the air leave the room. Her eyes widen as she realizes the words she just threw at me, and she stands there, staring.

It’s not that she’s wrong—I don’t have kids of my own. But fuck , that doesn’t mean I don’t understand. I love her kids like they’re mine. I’m here fighting for them, for her—and she’s telling me I don’t get it. Like I can’t relate. Like it wouldn’t completely break me.

“You think I don’t understand because I don’t have kids?” My voice wavers. “Maybe I don’t get every part of it, but I know I’d do anything for them. I love Noah and Meadow, and I love you . I’d lay down every single thing for you and the kids. And if you don’t see that, if you don’t trust me to stand beside you… then what the hell are we even doing?”

“Jake,” she breathes, guilt written all over her face.

I walk to my bag and pull out my leather-bound notebook. I hesitate, running my thumb over the worn edges, then hold it out to her.

“What…”

“Open it.”

She takes the notebook, her hands trembling. As she flips through the pages, her eyes gloss over as she realizes what's inside. Page after page, star after star, each one different, each one meaningful.

“I started drawing these every time I thought about you,” I explain. “Every time I missed you. When I missed the kids. When I thought about what our future could look like.”

Her fingers brush over a page where Meadow’s name is written, surrounded by tiny, delicate stars. Another with Noah’s, bold and bright, shining like a constellation. Her breath hitches when she finds one with her name in the center, a cluster of stars around it, like they’re orbiting her.

“You’re the stars, Charlie. You and the kids… You’re my whole fucking night sky.”

Tears spill down her cheeks, and she closes the notebook, clutching it to her chest. “Jake…”

“I’ve been in this from the start,” I say, stepping closer. “But if you’re willing to run the second things get hard—”

“I’m not running !” she shouts, eyes frantic with tears. “I’m trying to protect them!”

“By doing exactly what Alex wants? I’ve never had anything like this, Charlie. Never had anyone in the stands, never had anyone love me the way you and the kids do. You’re my family . And you’re telling me you’re willing to walk away—like this was nothing?”

She goes quiet, and I can see her crumbling in front of me. But instead of reaching out to comfort her, I’m frozen. Hurt. Shocked.

“I’m not walking away from you,” she chokes out. “But I don’t know how to fight Alex. I don’t know how to keep everything from falling apart.”

The hurt tightens in my chest. It’s like she hasn’t heard a single word I’ve said. “You don’t have to. I’m here, Charlie. I’m right fucking here , fighting for you and the kids. But now I’m wondering if you even want that… Or if this is just an excuse to bail.”

Her face crumples, and I instantly regret those words. But I can’t take them back. The truth is, I need to know. I need to know if she really wants this. Because right now, it feels like I’m the only one fighting for it.

“I’m not trying to bail, I… I’m not giving up on us, I just don’t know what else to do.”

I close my eyes, trying to keep it together. “I get it. But you don’t just walk away because it’s hard. I love you so much it scares the hell out of me. And I’ve been all in with you, always. But I need to know you’re all in, too. I need to know you’re not gonna give up.”

She wipes at her cheeks with the back of her hand, but the tears keep coming. “I just... I don’t want to lose my kids. And I don’t want to lose you either, but I feel like I’m gambling. I don’t know how to fix it!”

I can’t breathe watching her like this. Broken. Panicking. I hate it. I hate that Alex has driven her to this point, that she feels like there’s no way out. And it kills me that no matter how much I keep telling her, it’s not enough to make her believe she’s safe, that we can fight this together.

“Charlie, listen to me.” I step closer, my hands gripping her shoulders. “You won’t lose the kids. You won’t lose me. But I need you to fight with me . I can’t be the only one standing in the ring.”

She lets out a sob and my heart clenches. For a moment, all the frustration and hurt f ades. I can’t stand it anymore.

I pull her into my arms and hold her tight against me. Pressing my lips to the top of her head, I close my eyes as I try to ground myself in the feel of her. “I know you’re scared, baby. I know.”

She clings to me, her face buried in my chest. “This is what I was scared of from the beginning. This mess, Jake. My mess... And now you’re dragged into it.” Her voice is tight, words spilling out like she’s admitting something painful she can’t hold back. “I warned you. I’m too broken, too complicated.”

I pull back just enough to cup her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. “Don’t say that.” My voice is rough, breaking with emotion. “You’re not broken, baby. And you sure as hell aren't dragging me into anything. I chose this. I chose you." I exhale sharply, my grip tightening like I’m trying to hold her together. Hold us together.

“But fuck, Charlie.” The words come out thick and tangled in frustration. “You have to stop pushing me away.”

My voice is sharp, but I can’t help it. The thought of her thinking she’s too broken, too messy for me—it cuts me to the core. She’s all I want.

Her tears keep falling, hands gripping my shirt as if she’s afraid to let go. We stand there wrapped in each other’s pain, until I can’t take it anymore. I love her too much to see her so torn apart. But I also can’t ignore that she’s wavering, that she’s thinking about running.

I pull back again, my thumbs brushing away her tears. “I love you, Charlie,” I husk, trying to keep myself together. “But I can’t be the only one in this. I need you to want it, too. I need to… I need to go.”

Her face crumples, gutting me. “You’re leaving me?”

“I’m not breaking up with you,” I clarify quickly. “I promise you. I just ne ed time to cool down. You’re still mine, got it?”

Hands loosen on my shirt, and I see the devastation in her eyes. It’s fear, deep and raw. The fear of losing everything. Of losing me.

And fuck, it’s nearly enough to break me.

Her throat works as she swallows. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, barely getting the words out.

I press my lips to hers, tasting the salt of her tears. I kiss her like I’m trying to brand something into her, to make sure she knows I'm still here. That I still love her.

When I pull back, my own throat burns, my own voice cracking at the edges. “I’ve told you from the beginning, I’m all in . And when I get back, I need to know that you are, too. Or this won’t work.”

Her tears fall faster, her body shaking, but I force myself to step back, heart in tatters. I can’t give her the comfort she needs right now—I need her to understand what’s at stake.

I need to know she loves this enough to fight for it.

“I love you.” My voice is rough, scraping against the wreckage of this moment. "So fucking much.”

Then I turn and walk toward the door, every step killing me, every part of me screaming to stay.

***

I’ve been staring at the ceiling for hours, trying to calm the fuck down. Night’s fading into morning, but all I see is her face when she said going back to New Zealand might be easier.

Easier. Like this isn’t worth fighting for.

I glance at my keys on my dresser. She gave me a key weeks ago. That key means something. We mean something.

I could’ve grabbed that key and gone back to her hours ago, crawled into bed, wrapped her in my arms, and told her i t’s going to be okay. But I didn’t. Not after the way we left things. We both need space to breathe.

From the second we reconnected, something clicked into place, like I’d found what was missing in my life. And now, hearing her suggest leaving? Packing up the kids and going ?

It hurts. Hell, it fucking kills me.

I thought we were solid. That she was in this as much as I am. And now I’m not sure.

But there’s a part of me that gets it. Fuck , I get it. I don’t have kids. I’ve never had to be terrified of losing them. But I’ve lost people. I know what it’s like to stand on the edge of something good, only for it to be ripped away.

I close my eyes, trying to reel it all in, but my mind spins. Alex, that asshole . He knows exactly how to get in her head. Knows how to make her question everything, and it’s working.

But I remember her face as I left. How her voice cracked when she admitted she was scared. She’s not walking away because she wants to. She’s walking away because she’s scared. And hell, deep down I’m scared, too.

I bet she’s lying in bed right now, thinking it’s all falling apart. But it’s not. She’s my family. The only family I want. And there’s no way I’m letting Alex, or fear, or anything else take them away from me.

The sun’s starting to creep up, and it’s taking everything in me not to drive back to her.

I grab my phone, the time glaring up at me, thumb hovering over her name. There’s enough time to talk before I head to the airport. So I hit call before I can second-guess myself.

It rings. Once. Twice. My gut twists. Finally, a click on the other end, but she doesn’t say anything. I can hear her breathing—shallow, ragged.

“Hey,” I say softly, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Hey,” she whispers, sounding wrecked. Shit. My chest clenches and I run a hand over my face, wishing I could be there to hold her.

Silence stretches between us, heavy and raw.

“You okay?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“I’ve been better. Didn’t really sleep. ”

“Me either.”

More silence. I can’t take it. My fingers twitch with the need to pull her close.

“I’m sorry, Jake,” she croaks. “I didn’t mean it. Any of it. I was scared, and I... I didn’t mean what I was saying.”

I close my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I know,” I say quietly. “But it still hurt. Hearing you say that, it felt like you were giving up on us. And I can’t—” My voice catches. “I can’t lose you, Charlie.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” she says, her voice desperate. “I love you. I love us. I was just scared.”

“I know,” I whisper again, hating that this conversation is happening over the phone instead of with her in my arms. “I love you, too. More than anything.”

We both fall silent again, the weight of everything still hanging between us. I can tell she’s struggling, and I want to fix it, but I’m not sure how.

“I’m heading to the airport soon,” I say. “But I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Okay,” she says softly.

I hesitate, but I need to say it. “Just… be careful with Alex. I don’t trust him.”

She sighs, and I can practically see her rubbing her temples. “I’ll be fine, Jake. I’ll handle it.”

“I know you will,” I say, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. “I’ll call when I land. And Charlie, we’ll figure this out together. Okay?”

She’s quiet for a moment. Then finally, “Okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too. And tell—” I pause, my voice catching again. “Tell Noah and Meadow I love them, too.”

“I will,” she manages to say, and I can hear her tears.

My heart aches as I end the call, scrubbing a hand over my face. I stare at my phone for a long moment. I don’t want to leave things like this, but I don’t have a choice. Not right now.

This couldn’t be happening at a worse time. Every game right now is critical. We’re fighting to make the playoffs, and I can’t afford to let my focus slip. If we lose a couple of games, our shot at the postseason is done. But if I lose her … God, I don’t thi nk I could come back from that.

Before I head out the door, I shoot Zoe a quick text.

Me: Hey, keep an eye on Charlie while I’m gone. Alex is still here and I fucking hate him.

Zoe: Don’t worry, big guy. I got her. That asshole tries anything, he’ll regret it. Focus on winning—I’ll keep her safe. ??

I smirk at my phone, then pocket it. I have no doubt Alex would regret messing with Zoe. As I step into the cold morning air, my heart feels split. But I shove it down. Compartmentalize.

I just hope Charlie can do the same.