Page 46 of Pastel Kisses

Then, finally—Jaxton lets out a slow breath. “Well… that was a fucking disaster.”

Liam snorts, running a hand through his hair. “You expected anything else?”

Kamden shakes his head. “She’ll be back. She’s too fucking obsessed to walk away that easily.”

I drop onto the couch, staring at the ultrasound photos she left behind. My stomach twists.What if it is Jax’s kid?

What if we’re stuck with her forever?

I scrub my hands down my face, exhaling through my teeth. “We need to find Avery.”

The room stills, and then Jaxton nods.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Wedo.”

Exhaling a long, slow breath that does nothing to settle the storm brewing inside me, I glance at the guys. The weight ofeverythingpresses down, suffocating, relentless.

Sarah’s gone—for now—but the damage she’s left behind lingers like a stench that refuses to fade. Her words, her fucking manipulation, and worst of all… the possibility that Jaxtonreallyis the father of her baby.

And when Avery comes home?

Fuck.

My stomach twists painfully as I imagine her reaction.

After everything she’s been through—whatever the hell she’s going through right now—she’s going to come back tothis. To us telling her,Hey, baby, welcome home. We love you, we missed you… oh, by the way, our psycho ex is pregnant with Jax’s kid, and yeah, she’s the same one who staged that whole kissing scene just to fuck with your head. She’s still obsessed, by the way. But don’t worry, it’s fine.

She’s gonna be fucking livid.

And who could blame her?

We’ve only been together for a few months. Our love is real, raw, and deep, but time is a brutal motherfucker. The months she’s been missingsurpassthe time we actually had together. That’s not enough. Not for something this fucking huge.

What if she decides it’s too much? What if she chooses to walk away?

The thought of losing her—after all this—settles like ice in my veins.

I can’t do this right now.

I push to my feet, stretching out the tension in my shoulders. “I’m heading outside,” I mutter, already moving toward the back door.

Jaxton glances up from where he’s sitting on the couch, his hands running over his face like he’s trying to scrub away reality. “Lennox—”

I shake my head. “Don’t, man. I just—” I exhale roughly. “I need a fucking break.”

No one argues. They get it.

The yard has been my escape for months. If I can’t lose myself in the ocean, I lose myself in the dirt, in the tangible proof that I canbuildsomething—fixsomething—when everything else feels out of my control.

When we moved into Avery’s place, I threw myself into finishing her landscape design. She had a vision, sketches, half-finished projects, and I took it upon myself to complete them for her. Not just because I knew it would mean something to her, but because it kept mesane. It gave me purpose in a world that suddenly felt like it had been thrown off its axis.

The second I step outside, a sense of calm washes over me.

This is her space.

This is where I feel closest to her.

I let out a slow breath, dragging my fingers through my hair before grabbing a pair of weatherworn gloves from the workbench. The flower beds need fresh mulch, and the pathway she planned along the fence still isn’t finished. There’s always something to do.

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