𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞

Growing up, I was always told that if you did good things, those good things would make their way back to you.

What goes around comes around.

Karma doesn't have a menu, you get what you deserve.

And I truly believed it. I still want to.

That's why I've always tried to do the right thing.

I went to school to help people because it made me happy. I worked my ass off, got amazing grades, and graduated near the top of my class.

I've always been a mom first, everything else second. My girls are my world, and I'd give up anything to make sure their needs, and honestly, even their wants, come before mine.

I never cheated on Trevor. I left when I knew things were too broken to fix. I walked away because, for once, I chose myself.

So where's the good karma I was promised?

When is the universe going to give me a pat on the back for doing things the right way?

Because all I've gotten in return is a car accident that might've taken away my chance to have another baby... and a custody battle.

Maybe that's karma's twisted way of saying I don't deserve to be a mom at all.

Jax's hand slips over mine, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I've only been home an hour. I'm supposed to be having lunch with my family, not spiraling into "what ifs." But it's hard to stop once it starts. Especially after mediation, my thoughts haven't stopped racing.

I give him a tight-lipped smile, hoping he can read the apology in my eyes. If I say it out loud, the girls will just start asking questions I know I'm not ready to answer.

Honestly? I don't think I'll ever be.

"You okay?" he asks softly, running his thumb over my knuckles.

Usually that soothes me, but today? Today I need the world's tallest glass of wine and a certain Welsh man to put me in my place. But the girls are still awake and fully wound up, so that fantasy's gonna have to wait.

I nod instead. It feels better than saying out loud how much I feel like I'm drowning.

"Mommy?" Charlotte tugs my sleeve. "I'm full."

I glance at her plate. She's eaten about three-quarters of her dinosaur-shaped grilled cheese—which is honestly impressive for her.

Note to self: learn how to cut grilled cheese into dinosaurs like Jax does.

"Can you try one more bite?" I ask, knowing I'm pushing my luck.

She groans and kicks her foot against the tile. "But I'm full, Mama."

For a second, I almost give in. Her little voice is like a knife slicing right through my skull right now, and today I just don't have the energy for arguments.

"I'll tell you what," Jax jumps in. "I'll take my biggest bite if you take yours."

He raises a brow at her, but she doesn't budge. Charlotte crosses her arms at her chest and lets out a huff instead.

Jax quickly swipes the grilled cheese from his plate and shoves the entire thing into his mouth. Both of the girls squeal with laughter, and I swear my heart is about to burst.

Although, I'm not sure if it's from watching this gorgeous man making a fool out of himself to make my girls laugh, or from the way their eyes sparkle while they watch him.

Both girls race to finish their food, cheeks puffed out like little hamsters, trying to copy him. Of course, the mom in me panics, half convinced one of them is about to choke, but how can I be the party pooper here?

So I stay quiet. I sit back and watch the three of them laugh with their cheeks puffed out, eyes shining with joy while mine start to sting.

I swipe at the corner of my eye with my thumb and quickly start clearing plates. The second I make it to the sink, I take a deep breath, willing the tears to stop trying to burst through.

Because this all hurts.

It hurts knowing how far Trevor's willing to go just to tear this apart.

It hurts thinking this could be it—these silly, perfect moments fading into memories because Charlotte and Lydia are growing up faster than I'm ready for.

It hurts that there might never be another tiny human to add to this chaos.

I stare into the soapy water, scrubbing the same plate long enough that my fingers start to wrinkle. I'm not even sure how long it's been, but I know it's more than a few minutes when I realize it's completely silent.

I don't snap out of it until Jax's arm slides around me, and he reaches into the sink to pull the plug.

Then he turns me gently by the shoulders and gives them a light squeeze.

"Talk to me," he murmurs.

His eyes meet mine, and just like that, I feel... safe.

Safe to feel whatever I'm feeling, and to actually let it show.

I've found my home in his eyes. And I'm not letting anything take that away.

He brushes his fingers lightly along my arms, and goosebumps follow behind.

"You know you can tell me anything," he says, giving me that soft, crooked smile that always makes me feel like my world isn't completely falling apart.

I sigh.

I don't want to think anymore. I just want to go back to how things were when everything was easy. When it was all love and laughter and still felt brand-new. Now it's like we're holding our breath all the time, waiting for the next thing to go wrong.

I shrug and lean into him. Just for a minute.

"He was just... ruthless," I admit quietly. "Refused to meet me halfway on anything. And then he said I was just trying to 'steal' his daughters to play house since I can't have any more."

The ache in my chest starts to feel like a full-on weight, like I swallowed an entire cinder block.

Jax pulls me closer, kisses the top of my head, and starts gently rubbing my scalp.

I want to cry. But I can't.

I've cried so much over the past few months, I'm not sure there's anything left. And honestly? I just don't want to anymore.

I'm tired of crying. Tired of feeling like I'm falling apart every damn day. And if I'm exhausted by it, I can only imagine how everyone else must feel.

I need to bring the old Allie back.

I know she's in there somewhere. I just hope when I finally dig her out, the best parts of her will still be intact.

But I at least have to try.

Not just for me. Not even just for Jax. But for my girls. They deserve a mom who smiles. Who shows them that even when life knocks you down hard, you can still get back up and rebuild.

And I'm not saying I can't be upset. I'm human, and I know these things are going to bother me when I really think about them. I just can't allow myself to get lost in it all before I end up losing it all.

And I can't lose a single one of them.

I lift my head and press a soft kiss to Jax's lips. He smiles against my mouth like he always does, and in that moment, I just know.

"Everything's going to be okay," I whisper.

He hesitates, but not in a way that makes me worry. I know he's just carefully choosing his words, the way he has been every time we have to have a talk like this.

Every time we have to talk about the court, or the accident, he gets quiet.

He brushes my hair behind my ear, keeping one hand cradling my cheek.

"And if it's not... we'll fight like hell to make it that way," he says softly.

I lean more into his hand, then press my lips to his palm.

I know things will never be perfect—and honestly, I don't think I'd want them to be. A little chaos reminds you what's worth fighting for.

But right now? We just need a break.

And if anyone's earned that, it's Jax.

He's been by my side through all of it—showing up, holding the pieces of my soul together like it's second nature. Some days, I genuinely don't know how he's still standing.

He drives back and forth without complaint, always arriving with that easy smile and those arms that feel like the safest place in the world.

I don't think I'll ever find the right words to tell him how much it all means to me.

But maybe I don't need to.

Because Jax has never needed words. His actions have always screamed louder than words.

And if I've learned anything from all of this, it's that if they wanted to, they would.

No questions. No expectations. Just showing up for the people you love.

Exactly the way it should be.