Unbreakable threads

Chapter One hundred and Six : Rick and Alyssa snap.

Rick and Alyssa walked past Jessie's house, the quiet street around them stretching out in the fading light of the day. They didn't expect to stop, but there she was—Jessie, out in the garage, her face distant as she took a long drag from her cigarette. She looked lost, like someone who had been carrying a weight far too heavy for too long.

Pete wasn't home. He was in the infirmary, still tending to Tara, and this was the opportunity. It was the right time, the space where something needed to be said, a confrontation that couldn't be avoided.

They approached her slowly, Rick's pace deliberate, and Alyssa following just a step behind him. When Jessie saw them, she straightened up, putting out her cigarette quickly, her eyes betraying a hint of uncertainty.

"I'm sorry about Noah," Jessie began, her voice quieter than usual. Her words were hesitant, unsure, but they held sincerity. "But Tara... she's in good hands with Pete."

The mention of Pete's name made Alyssa's stomach turn. She could feel the shift in the air, the tension rising between them as her anger flared, unbidden but unavoidable.

Alyssa's voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. "He's hitting you," she said bluntly, her eyes never leaving Jessie's face. It wasn't a question; it was a statement of fact.

Jessie froze, the color draining from her face. The weight of Alyssa's words seemed to hit her like a wave, and for a long moment, neither of them said anything more.

Alyssa's voice was firm, unwavering as she spoke, the weight of her words hanging heavily in the air. "It has to stop..." she said, her tone laced with urgency.

Jessie exhaled slowly, her shoulders slumping " It will," she said, her voice lacking conviction, the words almost a whisper, like she wasn't entirely sure she believed them herself.

Rick's brows furrowed, his gaze steady as he stepped forward. "How?" he asked.

Jessie hesitated, her eyes darting away as she searched for the right words. "There are things in his life that happened..."

Alyssa couldn't hold back anymore, her frustration bubbling over. She raised her hand, cutting Jessie off before she could say more. "I don't care," she said, her voice sharper now. "None of that matters. Not when he's doing this to you."

Jessie's eyes flickered with a brief flash of pain, but she held her ground. "Look, he was like this before... and he got help. And things were good."

Alyssa's jaw tightened. She couldn't listen to this. She'd heard enough. "You can't fix this, Jessie. But we can," Alyssa said firmly, the weight of her words clear.

Jessie's eyes widened, and she stepped back slightly, her voice rising in panic. "What, are you going to put him in jail? You'll just make things worse!"

Jessie's voice cracked with frustration as she looked at them, her eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and anger. "Why is this so important to you? Why does it matter?" she asked, her voice rising. "You've made it. You have a home. What are you doing?"

"We're trying to help you," Rick said, his voice filled with sincerity.

But Jessie shook her head, the frustration clear in her expression. "Rick, I'm married. Okay? I can't take care of myself," she said, her voice flat as she backed away toward the door. "I can't fix this."

With that, she turned and disappeared into the house, the door shutting behind her with a soft but final thud.

Alyssa stood still, her gaze locked on the house, the conflict building inside her. She glanced at Rick, her eyes sharp, her expression harsh. She didn't need to say anything—he knew exactly what she was thinking. They weren't going to stop just because Jessie turned away.