Vesper’s POV
The rain started just after midnight.
The violent kind that rattled windows and made the entire island feel like it was being swallowed by the ocean.
I was still awake when the first crack of thunder split across the sky, my mind still replaying the memory of how Jaxon had cornered me earlier.
Another crack of thunder exploded overhead, followed by a small scream from somewhere down the hallway.
I was already out of bed before I fully processed it as my door flew open, and at the exact same moment, Jaxon’s opened across the hall.
We both froze for half a second.
Then another frightened cry echoed through the villa.
Sunny.
Neither of us said a word.
Sunny was sitting upright in bed when we reached her room.
Tears streamed down her face, and her small hands were clamped tightly over her ears.
My heart twisted painfully.
I crossed the room and pulled her into my arms, feeling her entire body shaking.
Jaxon knelt beside the bed, his expression softened.
“Hey, superstar.”
Sunny buried her face against my shoulder.
“I don’t like it.”
”I know.”
”The noise is too loud.”
Thunder rolled again, and she flinched violently.
Something about the sight hit me harder than expected.
Because suddenly I wasn’t looking at Sunny anymore.
I was eighteen again and standing in a house that no longer felt like home.
Listening to my parents scream at each other through closed doors and watching everything I’d trusted fall apart piece by piece.
The memory arrived so fast it stole my breath.
Sunny’s trembling fingers tightened in my shirt, and somehow that made it worse.
Because fear looked the same no matter how old you were, and my chest felt tight.
Too tight.
Jaxon noticed immediately as his gaze flicked toward me sharply and with observant.
The way it always became when he thought something was wrong.
“Vesper, are you okay?”
I forced a smile and nodded, “I’m fine.”
He didn’t look convinced, nor was I.
Another lightning strike illuminated the room, and Sunny practically climbed into my lap.
Jaxon glanced toward the storm outside, then toward the hallway.
“We’re not staying in here.”
”What?”
”The windows are too exposed.”
I frowned.
“Jaxon—”
”We are going to the master bedroom.”
A few minutes later, the three of us were settled in the enormous bed upstairs, her breathing finally slowing down.
The room felt warmer and safer.
Sunny curled beneath the blankets between us.
At least for the first five minutes.
Then another thunderclap shook the villa.
The child immediately launched herself toward Jaxon.
He caught her effortlessly.
“Wow, what a cat.”
Sunny glared at me.
“Don’t laugh at me.”
That only made me laugh harder, and even Jaxon smiled.
For a little while, things felt normal and almost peaceful when the storm intensified again.
The laughter faded, and the room darkened.
And somehow my thoughts drifted back to places I usually avoided.
I stared at the ceiling, listening and remembering the debt I’m yet to clear off.
My father crying over the phone, my mother leaving, Elias, the engagement dinner, and everything that followed.
The memories arrived one after another until my chest began feeling strangely hollow.
Jaxon looked over, and his eyebrow lifted.
I hated it when he did that because it proved that he was mostly right.
“I’m fine.” I groaned, and he chuckled.
“You’ve said that four times today.”
”I enjoy consistency in saying what I feel.”
”No, you enjoy lying.”
”That’s rude.” I turned away from him, hating that he stared like he was peeling off every layer of me.
“It wasn’t meant to be polite.”
I should have argued, instead, I looked away because arguing required energy, and suddenly I felt exhausted.
The kind of exhaustion that settled in your bones.
The kind that came from carrying too much for too long.
Thunder rolled again, and my hands tightened unconsciously.
Jaxon noticed, and without a word, he shifted closer, which made me freeze.
Then a warm hand settled over mine.
Simple and steady without demanding anything.
Just then, something inside me cracked, and the next thing I knew, I was talking, not because I planned to, but the words simply appeared.
“My father mortgaged our house, and my mother left after she found out.”
The room went quiet, and I stared at the blankets.
Jaxon didn’t interrupt or offer advice.
He didn’t tell me everything would be okay, but just listened, so I kept going about the debt, about losing school, about rebuilding my life from nothing.
About Chloe helping me survive some of the worst years of it, and pretending I wasn’t angry or I wasn’t scared.
Somewhere along the way, my voice started shaking.
I hated that more than anything because I hated feeling weak.
But every time I paused, Jaxon simply squeezed my hand. This story is hosted at g.com.
A silent reminder that he was still there and listening.
By the time I finished, the storm outside had begun to weaken.
The room felt quieter, so did my mind.
I released a long breath and shrugged.
“I don’t usually tell people that, don’t think you’re so special.”
Jaxon glanced down at me.
“No?
And yes, I’m special”
”No, I don’t.”
”Seems like their loss.”
I laughed softly.
The sound surprised both of us.
“That was terrible.”
A comfortable silence settled between us, and it’s the first one we’d ever shared that’s not awkward.
Sunny had fallen asleep sometime during my accidental therapy session.
Her tiny hand remained wrapped around Jaxon’s shirt.
He carefully adjusted the blanket around her shoulders.
The gesture was so gentle it caught me off guard.
Because nobody saw this version of him.
The headlines certainly didn’t, and the public didn’t.
Most people only knew the hockey star, the troublemaker, or the arrogant athlete.
They didn’t see the man sitting beside me now, who’s Patient and Protective.
The kind when nobody was looking, and my eyes felt unexpectedly heavy.
Maybe because the storm was fading or because I’d finally stopped carrying everything alone for one night.
I shifted closer without thinking, and my head brushed his shoulder.
I should have moved, but I stayed exactly where I was.
Jaxon’s body went completely still.
For one brief second, neither of us acknowledged it.
Then his arm settled around my shoulders carefully, like he was afraid I’d pull away.
The warmth was immediate and comforting, so I rested my head against his chest.
The steady rhythm of his heartbeat filled the silence.
Strangely enough, it helped.
“Jaxon?” I called his name.
“Hm?”
My voice sounded sleepy even to me.
“Why are you so good at this?”
His chest rose beneath my cheek, and for a moment, I thought he’d answer.
I felt the hesitation and the pause, the words he almost said, but nothing came.
“Go to sleep, Vesper.” He murmured, and the last thing I felt before sleep claimed me completely was his hand brushing lightly through my hair.
And somehow, even in my exhausted state, I had the strange feeling that the answer to my question was something I wasn’t ready to hear yet.