Page 129 of The Convict Gets His Girl

"Mom?" Destini had followed her, her voice showing a maturity beyond her years. "It's okay, you know. That you were kissing him."

Jewel swallowed hard, her fingers gripping the countertop. "Is it though?"

Destini nodded, setting down an empty glass of water. "Yeah, but only if you're doing it because you want to, because there are feelings between just the two of you."

Jewel frowned, but she didn't voice the question that echoed in her mind.

Destini raised an eyebrow. "I mean, don't do it just for my sake, alright? To create that 'happy family' image. It's unnecessary. I just need to know that you both love me." A small smile played on her lips. "Half my friends at school come from all sorts of families. I'm just glad both my parents love me—that's enough."

Jewel absorbed her daughter's words, the simplicity and depth of them. She reached out, brushing a thumb across Destini's cheek. "Thank you, sweetie. That means a lot, but I'm not sure what this is between Chase and I, not sure where it's going. Don't get your hopes up, okay?"

Destini's brows rose as she crossed her arms. "Are you talking to me or to you? Because the way he looks at you says this is very much a permanent thing. He loves you. Do you love him?"

Jewel's gasp rang out in the kitchen, and she spouted back, "Do you love him?"

"Of course I do. He's my dad."

"Then why don't you call him that?"

There was a pause, a breath held between two heartbeats. A flash of frustration flickered across her daughter's face, revealing a hint of vulnerability. The question seemed to strike a nerve, and Destini's face flushed with a mix of emotions. Her shoulders tensed, and she stepped back, the defensive walls rising.

"I... I don't know, okay?" Her voice quivered despite her bravado. "It's complicated."

Shit, she'd pushed too hard, deflected, and reacted with offense instead of just talking about their feelings rationally.

"Destini—" Jewel reached for her, wanting to apologize, but Destini sidestepped the attempt.

"Stop pushing it, Mom!" With those sharp words, Destini turned on her heel, her footsteps echoing a staccato retreat as she stormed off, leaving Jewel to face the possibility that the cheerful girl she once knew might be turning back into a moody teenager.

And it was all her fault too, she knew. If she hadn't turned the conversation around on Destini and instead been the mature adult and talked about her own feelings, Destini wouldn't have ran out.

Jewel lingered in the silence of the kitchen, the weight of the unresolved tension with Destini pressing heavily on her. The fleeting image of her daughter's hurt expression was etched into her mind, and she feared that pushing too hard would revert Destini to the sullen teenager she had been at the start of the year. She wanted nothing more than to preserve the spirited, cheerful girl who had emerged these past few days, her true nature returning.

What was her own true nature? The person she was around Chase differed from the one she was in the past fifteen years. She was less… brittle, somehow. More understanding, less quick to jump to conclusions and lash out. But she'd reverted to that woman just now with Destini, and it had gotten her daughter hurt.

The sound of footsteps broke her reverie as Chase entered the room, his presence a mix of comfort and concern. He placed his hands on her shoulders, kneading gently. "Hey, you need to relax," he murmured.

Jewel could barely register the intended solace in his touch. She wanted to give in to the comfort he provided, but she was so fucking tired of the comfortable. Her weariness went beyond the physical, deep into her soul.

"No time for that. Is the movie over? I have to work on the fundraiser," she muttered, patting his hand on her shoulders before walking to the study. She opened her laptop and rubbed her forehead, her headache worse now.

Chase followed her, and frustration kept her from jumping up and asking him to just hold her. She didn't need to seek comfort from him. She had been perfectly fine for the past fifteen years on her own and she would be again. Still—not again. Where was her head at?

God, she had to focus on this holiday fundraiser.

"Have you talked to Lola about the fundraiser yet?" Chase leaned against the desk, watching her. "Or Landry? You know they'd both be thrilled to help—and they're good at that kind of stuff."

"I don't need to. I can do this," Jewel snapped, the scowl on her face deepening. Her pride wouldn't allow her to admit she needed help, especially not after the emotional ordeal with Destini.

He hesitated, sensing her need for space, and finally retreated. "Alright, but sometimes we're stronger together."

That night, the house felt larger, colder, as they retired to separate rooms—a first since they had moved in together. Jewel tossed and turned, her restlessness fueled by the day's events and the nagging thought that she should have handled things differently with Destini, with Chase.

Morning came with no reprieve from the storm inside her. Her sister, perceptive as always, sent Jewel home early, insisting she needed to clear her head. The drive was short, but it felt like an eternity, each mile echoing with second guesses and what-ifs.

When Jewel arrived at Destini's school for pickup, she forced a smile, tamping down her own turmoil to greet her daughter. Destini slid into the truck, oblivious to the worry that clung to her mother like a second skin. The routine of pickup was a momentary balm, a respite from the conflict that waited in her mind.

"Mom, you look tired," Destini commented, her voice tinged with concern.

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