Page 48 of My Fixation

Me: Need family meeting ASAP. My house.

I don’t wait for a response. I already know they’re coming. The phone disappears back into my pocket as I lift my head. Jaxon is staring at me. The panic from earlier has faded. Replaced by more stubborn determination. The kind that tells me he’s already planning how to leave and deal with Henry himself. The kind that tells me this conversation is far from over.

I sigh internally. Because keeping Jaxon safe might be the easiest part. Convincing him that he deserves to be protected? That’s going to be the real fight.

Chapter 28

Jaxon

It’s been two hours since the text message sent me spiraling. Two hours of trying to think through every possible outcome. Two hours of realizing none of them end the way I want them to.

Conor hasn’t left my side once. Not for a second. I need time to think. Time to plan, my what? My escape? I grimace at the word. Because that isn’t really what this is. I’m not running away from Conor. I’m not running away from this house.

If anything, I’m trying to leave before I become the reason something happens to the people in his life.

Dinner had been a quiet affair. Through it all, Conor attended to me with the same infuriating attentiveness he’s shown since the day he brought me home.

My water glass never stayed empty. The moment I finished a slice of bread, another appeared on my plate along with the butter he somehow remembered I liked. Every small thing I needed was taken care of before I could even ask. Before I could sometimes even realize I wanted it.

The worst part is how natural he makes it look. Like, taking care of me isn’t an obligation. Like it doesn’t cost him anything at all.

I lose count of how many times tears sting my eyes during dinner. How many times do I have to blink them away before he notices? How many times have I had to swallow past the ache in my throat? Because every small kindness makes this harder.

Makes leaving harder. Makes forgetting him impossible. God help me, I want to keep this. Keep him. Keep the life that’s slowly starting to feel possible whenever he’s near. But wanting something has never been enough to make it mine.

After spending several minutes arguing with Conor that I was perfectly capable of helping clean up, I find myself standing beside him at the kitchen sink, drying dishes. It’s oddly domestic. The silence between us isn’t awkward, exactly, but it’s heavy. Filled with all the things neither of us has said since Henry’s text message. I’m setting the last plate on the drying rack when the doorbell rings. The sound cuts through the quiet house like a gunshot. I freeze.

Conor doesn’t move toward the front door. That alone tells me everything I need to know. He’s been expecting whoever is on the other side of it.

I hear the front door open a moment later. Then voices, and the unmistakable sound of tiny feet racing across hardwood floors. My heart squeezes before I even see him. The excited giggles echo through the house.

Seconds later, Ollie appears in the kitchen doorway at a full sprint, his curls bouncing as he barrels toward us. Or more specifically… toward me.

Ollie reaches both chubby arms high into the air.

“Up.” The demand is accompanied by a determined little bounce that almost makes me smile. My gaze immediately flicks to Conor and then to Ronan as he steps into the kitchen behind his son.

I want to pick Ollie up. God, I want to. But I’m not sure if that’s okay. I don’t know if parents care about things like that. I don’t know if Ronan would be comfortable with me carrying his kid around just because Ollie asked.

The thought feels ridiculous the moment it crosses my mind, but I can’t stop it. I didn’t exactly grow up learning how families work.

The first time I was ever around a baby, I was thirteen. One of my foster placements had a four-month-old little boy. He’d been the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Tiny fingers. Tiny feet. Big blue eyes that somehow made the whole world seem softer.

I used to sit across the room and watch him whenever I could. Not because I wanted attention from the foster parents. Not because I wanted anything at all. I just liked being near him. He was one of the few things in my life that felt completely innocent.

My thoughts snap back to the present when Ollie lets out an impatient little huff.

“Up,” he repeats, wiggling his fingers at me. Like he already knows what my answer should be.

“Ollie, Jaxon might not want to hold you,” Colton says from somewhere behind Ronan.

“I do.” The words come out far too quickly. Everyone turns to look at me. Heat immediately creeps up my neck. “I mean…” I clear my throat. “I wasn’t sure if you guys would be okay with it.” For a second, the kitchen is completely silent.

Then Ronan snorts, “Jaxon, if Ollie didn’t want to be held by you, he’d let you know.”

“Very loudly,” Colton adds.

As if to prove their point, Ollie turns a look of pure betrayal on his father. His little bottom lip pushes out. His brows furrow. The pout is so dramatic it belongs in an award-winning performance. Then he swivels back toward me.