Page 87 of Timeless
When Jaxon finally told me about the fire at the lake house and all the damage it caused, I was gutted and absolutely riddled with guilt that I’d unknowingly brought my past to his doorstep. After some tough conversations, he helped me process and see past those feelings. He reminded me that no one had power over us. No one could take away the place we held in our hearts, the memories we made at the lake, or the life we chose to build there, unless we allowed it.
So in the end, we chose to move ahead with rebuilding. After an engineer and restoration experts confirmed the house needed to be completely gutted, crews quickly got to work, salvaging any parts of the stone exterior that had not been damaged by the fire.
In the end, all that mattered was being where Jaxon was.
He was my home.
Jaxon opened my door and offered me his hand to help me out of the car. I knew his first instinct was to do more, to step in fully, and yet he held back, allowing me the independence to move on my own until I asked for help.
But today, I didn’t want to be on display.
“Mind giving me a lift?”
“I’d be happy to.” He beamed with pride.
Jaxon carried me bridal-style toward the front door, where I reached down and slid the key into the lock.
“Welcome home, my love.” He stepped over the threshold and set me down on my feet next to the breakfast bar.
“Jaxon, this—” I was utterly blown away by the transformation of his old living room that I could hardly believe I was standing in the same space where I once thought he’d been robbed. “I can’t believe you did all of this.”
“Well, I can’t take any of the credit; I just asked for help in getting all your stuff here. It was Lakelyn’s idea to give the walls a fresh coat of paint; she made it cozy by placing everything just like in your condo. Boden built the wall shelves for your plant babies?—”
“My plants.” I covered my mouth with my hands. “They all look so good, and . . . healthy.” There was no masking my surprised tone.
Jaxon held his hands up as if to say, “It wasn’t me.”
“I promise I’ll work on getting green thumbs. This, though, was all my mom’s doing.”
My vision glossed over, speechless with emotion.
While Jaxon remained steadfast by my side, his parents and friends stepped in to help where they could. Brock and Camila had always been the kind of parents I secretly wished were my own. They’d shown me nothing but kindness, even when I felt I didn’t deserve it. Their unwavering love and genuine support were overwhelming in the most beautiful way.
The Fishers were the epitome of the type of family I’d longed for: loyal, nurturing, and overflowing with a kind of love that didn’t ask for anything in return.
With them, I didn’t just feel accepted—I felt truly loved.
It was no secret that my relationship with my parents was broken. Jaxon texted my mom while I was in isolation, and her reply to him was the final nail in the coffin.
Thanks for letting me know.
That was it.
Dry, unbothered, and uncaring.
At that moment, I should have felt immense sadness, but I didn’t; I felt liberated.
Truly and unequivocally free.
Unburdened of the guilt I carried since I walked away and kept them at arm’s length.
Released from the soul-crushing feeling of knowing I was never worth the effort.
No longer tethered to the shadows that silenced my pain and dismissed my existence.
It was time to accept that blood wasn’t always thicker than water, no matter what the saying as old as time claimed. Shared DNA didn’t give my parents the right to break me.
There will always be people who say, “Life is too short to hold grudges,” and they’re right. Life is too short. No one gets free passes in life. Trust, loyalty, and love are earned. Life is too short to sacrifice your light to give others any power over you.
