Page 103 of Louder Than Words

I immediately pull back and swat her arm. “That isnotfair.”

She grins, shrugging like the menace she is. “Well, maybe next time don’t stay in bed for a week.”

A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. My hand drifts to my belly—and for the first time in days, I realize I’mstarving.

“Let’s order pizza and watchMiracle on 34th Street,” she offers, already reaching for the remote.

I nod. “Okay. But… let me call Jax first?”

She grins, already flipping through the channels. “Tell him to hurry back home.”

Home.

The word hits hard—because that’s exactly what this is. What itshouldbe.

This is Jax’s home.

And I can’t believe I pushed his feelings aside, even if I thought I was protecting him.

I made him leave hishome.

And I’ve got a hell of a lot to make up for.

41

Allie

The last time I was in this exam room, I found out I was pregnant with Lydia.

It still has the same scratchy paper barrier, the kind that makes you feel like one sudden move will alert the entire office. The same picture of a newborn baby sleeping inside a tulip on a cloud. And apparently, their heating system is still the biggest piece of junk in all of New Hampshire. It’s a week before Christmas, and I’m still shivering through a thick knit sweater.

The only thing that’s different now?

I’m not over the moon to be here.

If I’m being honest, I just want to go home, crawl back into bed, and forget the world exists for a little while longer. But if I did that, Ana or Jax would either drag me out—or worse—call my mother.

We’ve already done the hardest part. Having to lie there in silence while the cold wand pressed into my belly, trying desperately to find a heartbeat that might or might not be there.

I couldn’t bring myself to look. Neither could Jax.

Instead, we sat there in silence, tears shining in our eyes, our gazes locked, clinging to the only safety net we had left in that room: each other.

The screen was right there, but I couldn’t look up. And with the tech so quiet, her face drawn and stiff, it was clear we didn’t need her to say the words out loud.

Jax and I just aren’t meant to bring a baby into the world. At least not right now. And as much as it breaks my heart, I have to be okay with it.

I glance over at Jax, sitting beside me now. The soft sound of him picking at his fingernails echoes in the small room—and nearly rips my heart out with the realization:

This is his first baby.

His first great love he might never get to meet.

And his second loss in less than a year.

Tears prick my eyes again. I reach across the space until my hand finds the sleeve of his cold leather jacket.

He looks up and offers me a halfhearted smile, one I know he’s trying so hard to pass off as genuine. But he doesn’t have to pretend. Not with me.