Page 99 of Louder Than Words

He leans back, folds his hands together, and gestures lazily toward the window. “I said, are you done with that one? Just wondering if I should expect another beer to fly past my head before I start cleaning up.”

“You don’t have to clean it up,” I mutter, scoffing as I drag a hand through my hair and start pacing.

“Yes, I do,” he says calmly. Then nods toward the seat I left. “Because you’re gonna sit your ass down… and take a fucking breath.”

My hands slap against my sides, and I stop to spin toward him again. “Take a breath? How the hell am I supposed to take a breath, Don? Everything is fucking falling apart. All the goddamn time.”

He nods. “I know, Jax. That’s why you need to sit down.”

I shake my head and start pacing again.

What the fuck is sitting going to do?

“Don’t make me force you into a chair, Jaxon. Because I will.”

I roll my eyes—which was clearly a bad idea because Don already looks like he’s two seconds away from backhanding me. So I lower myself into the chair again, a lowunfleaving my lips as I sink into the cushion.

My eyes land on the shattered glass along the tiled floor, the bubbles already gone into the liquid as it sits there. And in that time, Don doesn’t say a word.

I glance over and notice he’s staring at the mess, too. Elbows on his knees, fingers laced together.

The silence stretches for what feels like forever. Long enough that it seems like we’re both waiting for someone to know what to say. But what really is there?

Then finally, without looking at me, he breaks the silence.

“My wife had a miscarriage last Easter,” he says, his voice so calm it almost doesn’t register at first.

He glances my way, nodding like he’s just admitting it to himself for the first time. “We’d been trying for three years,” he continues. “And when she found out she was pregnant... I swear, I’d never seen her smile like that. Not ever. It was like she’d finally gotten everything she’d ever wanted in that three-minute span.”

He pauses, letting out a slow, shaky breath. “But then one day—” he shakes his head, jaw clenching, “—it all just happened so fast. One second we were picking out names, and the next we were in the emergency room, staring at a monitor that wasn’t showing anything anymore.” He swallows hard, his eyes landing on me. “And Laura wasn’t ever the same after that.”

My brow furrows as I shake my head. “But we didn’t lose—”

His eyes snap to mine. “But that’s what itfeelslike to her, son.”

The wordsonfalls from his lips, and it short circuits my brain momentarily.

It’s almost funny to me how one bloody syllable can set off my brain now. But hearing Don of all people say it? It doesn’t burn the way it normally does. It doesn’t feel like athreat.

“You’ve got so much hope in your heart,” he says, softer now. “Enough for both of you, even after everything you’ve gone through the past two years. You're still fighting. But Allie?” He exhales. “Her hope is gone right now, Jax. She’s not shutting you out because she doesn’t love you. She’s doing it because she’strying to hold it all together. Because if she doesn’t... she’s scared she won’t be able to come back from that, either.”

Tears burn at my eyes, and I fight like hell not to let them spill. Not now.

I wipe at my face with the back of my hand, trying to play it off. “She’s the strongest person I know,” I say quietly. “I just wish she’d let me fight these battles with her.”

Don shifts in his seat to face me more directly. “And she will. But you know how you just said it’s one thing after another? How do you think Allie feels in all this? She’s not just overwhelmed—she’sdrowning. She’s in the process of possibly losing two daughters... and now maybe another in a more permanent and more heartbreaking way. Her whole world isn’t just spinning, Jax. It’s been completely flipped upside down.”

Then, it’s like something punches my chest. I don’t even feel it coming, just a few shoulder jerks, and suddenly my hands are covering my face. Everything comes out at once, leaving me exhaling a guttural groan so loud it vibrates through my whole body.

I hear Don leave his seat and drop into the armchair beside me. Then, I feel his arm drape around my back as he leans in.

“You just have to give her time. Everything that’s supposed to happen, will happen, Jax. I’m sorry life’s been unfair to the both of you.” He pauses, his voice low. “You didn’t do anything to deserve this. Neither of you did.”

Don’s arm tightens around me, and the tears keep rushing out in desperate floods.

Because he’s right. Neither of us deserve half the shit that’s been happening—it’s the furthest thing from fair.

But if Allie needs anything right now, it’s for at least one of us to be steady enough for the other to fall apart. And right now, it’s her turn to feel everything, while I hold onto the hope—just like she did for me back in that hotel room in July.