Page 69 of Fallen Heir
His voice cracked.
“I went to Alabama to find you. To uphold a promise I never got the chance to make. But you were already gone.”
He took a shaky breath, like his whole life depended on getting this next part out. “When I saw you in my club that night with Millie—it felt like fate. Like your mom had brought you to me when I couldn’t find you on my own. And trust me, I’d been searching.”
The realization hit hard, straight to my gut. “It was you that pulled that man off of me at the club?”
“Yes,” he said, eyes searching mine, voice shaking now. “And a few days you opened the door. You agreed to pretend to date me, and I took it because it meant getting close. But it wasn’t a game, Savannah. None of this was. I didn’t expect to fall for you.”
He exhaled, broken. “But I did. Hard. And I haven’t been able to breathe right since. And if you’re wondering, I don’t need your money. I have my own.”
Tears welled, but they didn’t fall. Not yet.
Because even though I could see the truth in his face—even though everything he said clicked into place—it didn’t make the ache go away.
It didn’t erase the betrayal.
He couldn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.
But I hadn’t trusted him either.
Here we were. Two people, holding onto lies. Holding back pieces of ourselves like we were bracing for war.
And the worst part?
We’d both already lost.
“I need some air,” I said, standing slowly.
His gaze tracked my every movement. “Savannah…”
I couldn’t look at him. Not right now.
“Jaxson,” I said, swallowing hard, forcing the words out even though they felt like glass in my throat. “I need you to leave.”
His entire body tensed. “Please… please don’t do this.”
There it was—desperation, raw and thick in his voice. The way it cracked on the wordpleasenearly undid me.
But I couldn’t. Not now. Not with everything unraveling inside me. I just need some time. Quiet. A second to think without everyone else’s thoughts pressing in on mine.
He didn’t move.
“Am I safe here?” I asked, finally lifting my eyes to meet his. Pulling in every bit of courage I didn’t have.
His brows pulled together. “What?”
“Am I safe here, at home?” I repeated, slower this time, each word a deliberate measure of control I didn’t feel.
“Yes,” he said softly, voice rough. “You’re safe here.”
“And will you—or Ben—be right outside this door if I need either of you?”
His jaw clenched. “Yes,” he said again. “We’ll both be here. Always.”
I nodded once.
“Then, Jaxson…” My voice broke, but I didn’t let the crack linger. “Please. I need you to leave.”
