Page 93 of My Fixation

“I guess…” I let out a watery laugh. “…I just finally learned how to hear you.

Chapter 44

Conor

It’s been over a month since the night at the warehouse. Life has settled into something resembling normal. At least as normal as life with the Murphy family is ever going to get. I think Jaxon finally understands that he isn’t just part of my life. He’s part of my family.

Not that anyone gave him much choice in the matter. Mom would probably say we imprinted on him. I suspect she’s right. The evidence is difficult to ignore.

He now has standing lunch plans with Colton and Ollie every Tuesday. Finn somehow convinced him to start going to the range twice a month. Declan calls him just to argue over football. And God help us all… He, Colton, and Xavier have formed a club. A group chat.

I have absolutely no idea how it started.

Only that his phone now goes off constantly with messages from that group chat. The group chat is called… The Red Flag Lovers.

I still don’t know whether I’m supposed to be offended or concerned. Judging by the amount of laughing Jaxon does following every message. I’m neither. I’m happy that Jaxon has made friends with them.

I asked Ronan once what they talked about. He looked at me with genuine pity.

“Buddy… you don’t want to know.”

Jaxon smiles every time his phone buzzes. The quiet, genuine smile that still catches me off guard. The one that reaches his eyes. The one that reminds me, every single time, that he has people waiting for him now. People who expect him to answer. People who notice when he doesn’t. A family. Exactly as it should be.

I hear the front door open and shut. No greeting. No “I’m home.” Just the quiet click of the lock. Jaxon is never loud, but I’ve learned the sounds of him moving through the house. The steady rhythm of his boots. The way he always sets his keys in the same spot. The pause in the entryway while he slips off his shoes. Today, everything is slower.

I close my laptop and listen. Therapy days are always difficult. He never says much afterward. Sometimes he curls up beside me and falls asleep. Sometimes he disappears into the backyard with a book and doesn’t speak for hours.

I let him choose. Today was different. Today, Neil was helping him search for answers. Jaxon never knew why he ended up in foster care. For years, he never wanted to know. He told me once that it didn’t matter. The people who leave rarely have reasons worth hearing.

Then everything changed. He found a family. Found people who wanted him. Now he wants to know. He wants to know why they gave him up. Why they abandoned him. The questions have been sitting between us for weeks.

I hear soft footsteps moving toward my office. A second later, Jaxon appears in the doorway. He doesn’t say anything, just stands there. The sight twists something deep in my chest. Whatever happened in therapy today, it took more out of him than usual.

I push my chair back and hold out a hand. I don’t ask how it went. If Jaxon has taught me anything, it’s that some wounds need silence before they can find words. For a long moment, he simply looks at me. Then, he crosses the room and takes my hand.

I pull him into my lap and wrap my arms around him. The office chair groans in protest beneath our combined weight. Jaxon shifts until he’s comfortable, his legs draped over one arm of the chair.

“We’re going to break another chair.” His voice is muffled against my shoulder.

“Then I’ll buy another one.” I tighten my hold on him and breathe in his scent. “So worth it.”

A snort escapes him. Then a quiet laugh. The sound settles something restless inside me. A month ago, Jaxon would have fought me on this. Insisted he was too big, too heavy, or too much. He would have apologized for taking up space. Now he simply settles deeper against me. Accepting the embrace without question.

His head comes to rest on my shoulder. His breathing gradually slows. The tension he carried through the front door bleeding away a little at a time. The chair creaks again. I ignore it. If it breaks, I’ll buy another. If that one breaks, I’ll buy another. Because the man in my lap is finally learning that he’s allowed to lean on someone else. And there isn’t a price tag in the world high enough to make me regret that.

“They didn’t abandon me.” The words are barely above a whisper. For a moment, I think I’ve misheard him.

“They didn’t?”

Jaxon shakes his head against my shoulder. “Neil was able to get my file.”

His fingers tighten slightly in the fabric of my shirt. I hold him a little closer. More than once, I told him Ronan could have the information in minutes. Probably seconds. The man treated government databases like mildly inconvenient filing cabinets. Every time I offered, Jaxon refused. He wanted to do it with Neil. He wanted his therapist there when he read whatever awaited him.

At the time, I didn’t understand. If I’m honest, I didn’t like it. The thought of another man being the one Jaxon leaned on stirred something ugly inside me. Something possessive. I wanted to be the person he turned to. The person he trusted first.

Mom corrected that thinking before it had a chance to grow. She told me loving someone doesn’t mean being everything they need. It means making sure they have everything they need. Even when it comes from someone else. So I said nothing. I press a kiss to the top of his head.

“Tell me.”