her fathers daughter - criminal minds

Chapter 47: heartbreak

Dani was stood in Spencer's kitchen quietly to make sure she wasn't heard and her presence wasn't known. But as soon as she overheard what Jess had said and the sound of her sobs she silently slipped out the kitchen and up the stairs giving allowing jess the one thing she needed right now. Her dad.

Spencer's heart clenched as his daughter's sobs echoed in the quiet hallway. He had been a part of her life for such a short time, but in this moment, it felt like he'd been her father forever. Jessica was his world, and seeing her crumble in his arms like this shattered him. His hands, warm and steady, brushed against her back, trying to soothe her, but the depth of her pain was something he couldn't fix with a hug, no matter how tight he held her.

her body shaking with quiet sobs that echoed in the silence of the night. Spencer's arms were wrapped tightly around her, drawing her close, pulling her into him as though he could absorb the weight of her hurt, take it from her. Her sobs were broken, raw, and desperate each sound more gut-wrenching than the last. Spencer's breath caught as he felt the tremor of her cries shake through her small frame, his chest tightening with the heaviness of her heartbreak.

He led her into the house with careful steps, keeping his arms around her, guiding her inside as though she might collapse if he let go. The house that was once warm and inviting, felt foreign to her now silent and cold despite the familiar surroundings. Spencer gently lowered her onto the couch, sitting beside her. He didn't know what to say there were no words that could fix this. He could only hold her and be the one thing she needed right now, a steady presence.

Jessica's sobs continued to wrack her body, each one more desperate than the last. Spencer held her, his hand gently rubbing her back in slow circles, the gesture meant to calm her, but nothing seemed to work. He felt utterly helpless, but he knew this was something she had to process on her own, in her own time.

"Shh... it's okay. I'm here, Addie. I've got you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His own heart was breaking as he heard the depth of her pain, wishing he could do more than just be there.

Jess slowly pulled back, her breath ragged, her eyes red and raw from the tears. She wiped at her face with the back of her hand, attempting to steady herself, but every breath she took was jagged, as if even breathing hurt. Spencer's heart broke for her. no parent ever wanted to see their child in such agony.

Her voice cracked as she spoke, her words coming in gasps as she repeated the words she said when he first opened the door. "He—he left. Ethan... he left me, Dad. He—he left while I was at the wedding."

Spencer was still in a state of confusion and disbelief. He had no idea what was going on, he could tell something was wrong when she showed up late to the wedding. He saw it on her face but Spencer needed to understand it. "Tell me everything," Spencer said softly, his voice full of gentleness. "I'm here. Whatever you need to say, I'm here to listen." Jess couldn't get the words out so she handed him the crumpled letter she'd been holding onto so tightly. The weight of the letter, of her emotions spilling into it, made Spencer hesitate for a moment before unfolding it with care. He read the words quietly, his heart sinking deeper with every line. By the time he finished, his mind was spinning.

Ethan had left. He'd made the decision to leave her, even after everything they'd been through. Spencer's protective instincts flared, and he felt a surge of anger. anger at Ethan for not talking to his daughter, for not understanding what a bond like theirs meant, for leaving her when she needed him. But more than that, there was the overwhelming sadness, the raw ache in knowing what Jess must have felt in that moment, the sheer abandonment.

Spencer lowered the letter, his voice soft but edged with anger. "I... I'm sorry, Addie. I never imagined he'd leave you. Not like this." His words were meant to comfort her, but he knew they couldn't fix what had been broken. Nothing could.