A Ruin Of Roses (Used to be: My Mysterious Husband)

EIGHT

𝙱𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚐𝚎, 𝙸𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍, 𝟷𝟶:𝟻𝟾 𝙿.𝙼 𝙹𝙰𝙽 𝟸𝟹𝚛𝚍 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟾
[𝙿.𝙾.𝚅 𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴]

As I step out of the car, cradling Jayden in my arms, I hear Jaxon's voice, and I pause to acknowledge him.

"One sec," I mutter, my voice laced with exhaustion. With great care, I hand Jayden over to Jaxon, who carries him to his room with a comforting gentleness.

I make my way to the kitchen, my steps heavy with the weight of the day's events. I grab a bottle of water and take a deep, calming breath.

"Thank you for putting him to bed," I say with a sigh as Jaxon re-enters the kitchen.

Jaxon watches me closely and speaks in a soft tone, "What happened?"

I hesitate for a moment, uncertainty swirling within me. "What do you mean?" I respond, my gaze drifting downward.

His voice is gentle but filled with concern as he says, "Someone slapped you."

I look away, feeling a shiver of vulnerability. "No, I just..." My voice trails off, the words caught in my throat.

"Jayden told me," Jaxon says, his tone filled with understanding.

I whisper, "It's fine."

But Jaxon disagrees, his voice firm. "No, it's not. He slapped you, and you're protecting him. Why protect him?"

Jaxon's hands find my shoulders, a reassuring weight that grounds me. I take a deep breath before confessing, "I have no choice. I can't talk about this. Everything is so up in the air, and I don't want to make things worse."

Jaxon nods, absorbing my words and the complex situation that surrounds us. "Would you like to watch a movie together or..."

I don't let him finish, eager for a distraction and the comfort of his company. "A movie sounds amazing," I whisper with gratitude.

Jaxon nods in agreement and steps around me, grabbing a bag of popcorn and tossing it into the microwave. As I watch him move about the kitchen, the realization hits me—it's only fair that I get to know my husband and understand the man who's been a steadfast presence in my life and in the life of my child. Despite the challenges and secrets, I can't help but feel a growing connection between us, a bond that's stronger than I ever could have imagined.

𝙲𝚘𝚛𝚔, 𝙸𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍, 𝟻:𝟹𝟼 𝙰.𝙼 𝙵𝙴𝙱 𝟸𝚗𝚍 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟾
[𝙿.𝙾.𝚅 𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴]

I'm jolted awake from a deep slumber by Jayden's plaintive voice, piercing the peaceful stillness of our home. I roll over quickly, my heart racing with concern.

"Yes, baby?" I ask, my voice gentle but tinged with worry.

His tiny voice quivers as he utters, "My chest hurts," and I sit up in a rush, my maternal instincts kicking into high gear. "I can't," he whispers, tears welling up in his innocent eyes.

"It's okay," I assure him, though my own anxiety is growing by the second. "Let's try to get dressed, and we'll go to the hospital. Can you do that?" I inquire, my tone a mixture of soothing and encouraging.

Jayden shakes his head, unable to summon the strength to get out of bed, and I nod, understanding the gravity of the situation. I scoop him up into my arms, his small body pressed close to my chest, my maternal instinct overpowering my grogginess.

As we make our way out of my room and into the dimly lit hallway, I'm greeted by Jaxon, who has also been roused from his sleep.

"What's going on?" he asks, his voice laced with concern as he emerges from his room, located directly across from mine.

"We need to go to the hospital," I explain tersely, the urgency of the situation propelling me into action. I rush to the car with Jayden cradled in my arms, his distress palpable. I gently place him in the back seat, ensuring he's as comfortable as possible.

Jaxon swiftly follows, taking the driver's seat. I settle into the back next to Jayden, clutching him to my chest. The urgency of the moment is etched on my face as I try to comfort my son while silently praying that he'll be okay. The drive to the hospital is a tense one, my thoughts consumed with fear and concern for Jayden's well-being.