Page 47 of Pastel Kisses

I kneel down, pressing my palm against the cool earth, grounding myself in the reality thatthisis forher. Every stone I place, every plant I nurture, every bead of sweat I pour into this yard—it’s all for her.

And when she comes home—because she will come home—I want her to step into this yard and see the love we’ve poured into it.

I want her to know we never stopped thinking about her.

That we never gave up.

That we never fuckingwill.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Jaxton

Time keeps slipping through my fingers, indifferent to my silent pleas for it to stop—or at the very least, slow down. Each minute drags me deeper into this unbearable, suffocating hell.

The only thread tethering me to sanity is the thought of my brothers—their voices echoing in my mind like a lifeline. I cling to their laughter, their strength, their love like armor against the storm. They’re my light in the void, the reason I fight to stay whole.

But the darkness is relentless. It’s growing, stretching its claws around me, threatening to devour every fragile piece of hope I have left of bringing her home.

And some nights... I almost believe it.

Avery’s case is cold. The police have no new leads. The media has moved on, only mentioning her disappearance in passing, another forgotten tragedy in their endless cycle of breaking news. The world is forgetting her. But I never will.Wenever will.

Hollywood has all but erased me. I’ve pulled back from everything, vanishing from the scene in hopes of keeping the relentless paparazzi at bay. Fewer clingers now park outside Avery’s house or her father’s place, trying to get a glimpse of us, desperate for a scoop. It makes it easier to move, to keep searching without the cameras flashing in our faces, reducing our grief to headlines and gossip.

Dan—Avery’s dad—has become part of our daily routine. If we’re not at his place, we’re FaceTiming him from the backyard, usually while flipping burgers on the grill she picked out or watering the flowers she planted with her bare hands. It's our way of holding onto her—keeping her world alive for when we finally bring her home.

It’s not just about comforting Dan. It’s about staying connected to every piece of Avery. Every routine. Every memory. Her house, her backyard, even the damn wind chimes she hung under the awning—they’re pieces of her soul. So we tend to them like they’re sacred. Because to us, they are.

Dan refuses to come to her house. Not until she’s back in it. He says it doesn’t feel right. Says stepping inside without her would break him. So instead, we bring her to him. Through phone calls, through updates, through laughter and stories shared over grilled steak and cold beer.

It’s working—slowly.

At first, he was barely functioning. The man who once towered over all of us, commanding presence in every room, looked… hollow. Like someone had scooped out his spirit and left only a shell. I saw it in his eyes—the kind of pain that lives in your bones. The kind you don’t shake. But we didn’t let him fall into it. We couldn’t. Not when we’re all teetering on the same edge.

So we show up. Day after day. We talk. We listen. We just exist beside him when words are too heavy to lift. Somehow, that’s enough.

He’s getting stronger. Not quite whole, not yet—but fighting. Just like we are.

We’re all clawing our way through this hell together. And every call, every visit, every quiet moment around the fire is another step back from the edge. Not just for him. For me. For all of us.

Because if we stop—if we give in to the silence—then we’ve already lost her.

And that’s something we’ll never accept.

We’ve given up our lives in San Diego, moving into Avery’s place because there was no way in hell we could leave. Not when every day without her is a day too long. Not when the chance of her returning feels like the only thing keeping us breathing.

But she’s gone. Vanished into thin air.

And now… there’s Sarah.

And the baby.

She brought me the paperwork, an ultrasound—proof that she’s carrying something I never wanted with her. Doubt lingers like a disease, one that I can’t cure until she stops dodging the paternity test. She wants to wait until after the baby is born, but fuck that—I need to know now. Every time I see her, every time she stands in front of me with that growing belly, I feel sick. Because it should be Avery’s. She’s the only woman I want a future with.

Telling Dan that I might have gotten another woman pregnant while his daughter—the love of my fucking life—is missing? Yeah, that was about as fun as stabbing myself in the eye. He decked me so hard my teeth snapped together, sending me straight to the ground. If my brothers hadn’t been there to hold him back, I’m not sure he wouldn’t have beat me unconscious.

But once they explained the situation, he took a deep breath, yanked me to my feet, and pulled me into a bone-crushing hug.

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