Chapter 5 Don’t you dare leave me.

jordan’s terrified shriek—“Mommy?! Are you… are you going to hurt Daddy?!”—froze the air. My knife clattered onto the countertop, the metallic clang echoing like some final, ugly punctuation.

Sebastian reacted faster than fear. He didn’t flinch—he moved. One powerful stride planted him squarely between me and Jordan’s wide, terrified eyes. His back blocked the boy’s view.

“Jordan!” His voice was bedrock, instantly silencing the chaos. He dropped to his haunches, meeting Jordan’s frightened gaze squarely, the usual sharpness in his eyes deliberately softened. “Mommy is exhausted,” he emphasized the word, his gaze flicking briefly to my trembling, pale face, then back to his son. “Her hand slipped. It was just an accident.” He stated it as undeniable fact, reframing the terrifying moment into a benign slip. He reached out, ruffling Jordan’s hair with fatherly familiarity while subtly shielding Jordan from my expression. “Nobody’s hurting anybody here. Especially not Mommy. Understand?”

“But… the knife…” Jordan’s voice quivered, his face ashen.

“Tired hands drop things,” Sebastian countered smoothly, his tone utterly certain. “Scared you, didn’t it? Dad’s sorry too. We’re family.” His gaze locked onto Jordan’s. “Mom loves you. I love you. Yeah?” It wasn’t a question, it was instruction.

Held in his father’s unwavering certainty, Jordan’s raw fear began to recede, replaced by confusion. Slowly, hesitantly, he nodded. “…Yeah. Love.”

“Good boy.” Sebastian rose, seamlessly reclaiming control. “Lego time. Dad and Mom need… kitchen cleanup.” The gentle phrasing barely hid the order beneath. Jordan shot one last confused, troubled glance my way before scrambling away, relieved to escape.

Sebastian watched him go, then pivoted towards me. The warmth he’d showed Jordan vanished. His expression hardened, but his eyes—those deep amber eyes—held a sudden, sharp gleam of something like concern. Or was it just calculation?

He strode to me. Not towards the knife, but to me. His large hands wrapped instantly around my freezing, shaking ones, his grip firm, his heat intense. “Shhh,” he breathed, the sound rough but low, pressing his forehead briefly against my sweat-dampened temple. “You’re shaking, Haley. Let me.”

He firmly released my hands from the crumpled dishtowel I hadn’t realized I was strangling. Turning, he dealt with the knife himself—ruthlessly efficient under the running faucet. His shoulders were tense lines beneath his shirt, but his voice was surprisingly level, almost coaxing: “Breathe. Just breathe with me.” He dried the knife, slotting it precisely away. “That’s not you, Haley. Never.” He turned back, the commander once more. “Jordan’s safe. You’re safe. Now—” His fingertips lifted my chin gently but irresistibly, forcing my eyes to meet his burning gaze. “Go splash cold water on your face. Dinner’s waiting. Our family needs you.”

Warm light from the chandelier glinted on the steaming mac and cheese. Sebastian guided Jordan back to the table. The boy’s eyes, wide and vulnerable like a fawn’s, darted nervously to me. He slid into the seat beside mine, clutching at my shirt hem, fingers trembling faintly.

“Mom… sorry,” he mumbled, his nose turning pink. “Didn’t mean to yell…”

Sebastian’s eyebrow lifted, the subtlest command for me to play my part.

“All forgiven, sweet pea,” I managed, my voice thick. I smoothed his hair back, my thumb brushing near the damp corner of his eye.

Sebastian’s strong hand settled firmly on Jordan’s small shoulder, his voice soft and guiding. “What else, champ?”

Jordan’s lashes fluttered rapidly. “…Love Mom,” he whispered, the words pushed out along that invisible thread.

The rehearsed affection stung, sharp in my chest. Still, I pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Mom loves you to the moon and back.”

A look of satisfaction ghosted across Sebastian’s lips. He pulled out my chair for me. As we sat, he immediately steered the conversation, tapping the table lightly to draw Jordan’s focus, though his gaze constantly flickered back to me, watchful. “That rocket ship in your cartoon… fueled by mac and cheese?”

“Mom! Extra cheesy?” Jordan asked, his cheeks already puffed like a chipmunk’s.

“Triple dose special,” I forced a smile onto my lips.

“The BEST!” he mumbled around a mouthful.

Sebastian traced the rim of his coffee cup. Suddenly, without raising his voice, he spoke, cutting through the muted clatter of forks. “Your mom makes magic happen.” His intense gaze burned into my face. Under the table, his knee pressed firmly against my thigh, a warm, solid anchor against my nervous tremor. “Always has.”

In the warm light, his smile was devastatingly handsome, a vision. My hand rested beneath the table, hidden, fingernails digging crescent moons into my own palm.

As the last cartoon flickered on screen, Jordan curled tight on the sofa cushion, a small, exhausted ball.

I perched beside Sebastian on the couch, leaving careful space between us.

​His arm shot out—unexpected, possessive—yanking me against the solid wall of his chest.​

His familiar heat, laced with that clean, woodsy scent, poured into the hollow ache inside me. For one stolen heartbeat, I let my eyelids sink shut. Safe? Warm? Or maybe... this bruise could numb itself, just for a minute.

Later, in the dimness of Jordan’s room, his small hand clutched mine until sleep finally loosened his grip. Tucking the blanket under his chin**, my own fractured heart felt no less raw.​**​ Stepping back into the hallway’s gloom, I bumped straight into the shadowed figure leaning against our bedroom doorframe.

Sebastian stood there**, his broad frame swallowed by the long shadow thrown by the single sconce light behind him.​**​ He was half in shadow, half in the dim yellow light, his eyes holding depths impossible to read in the low light.

“Haley.” His voice scraped out, ​low and rough like gravel against the silence.​ “I’m sorry.”

​My fists clenched at my sides, fingernails biting crescents into my palms.​​ Sorry? For the knife? For tonight? Or the whole damn mess you’ve made?

“I’ve… been gone lately.” He pushed off the doorframe, his movement instantly crowding me. His presence felt like a physical weight. ​His knuckle pressed hard into his temple​ — a gesture steeped in apparent weariness, ​yet too perfectly timed not to feel like a shield.​​ “This merger… it’s swallowing everything whole.” He took another step, ​his heat enveloping me, his eyes searching mine with unnerving intensity.​​ “Soon… tropical island getaway. Palm trees, white sand. Wipe all this clean. Yeah?”

The command came softer now, velvet wrapped around steel. “Come here.”

No time to breathe. His arm locked like iron around my waist, crushing me against him. His mouth came down—not demanding or harsh, but something else entirely… ​a deliberate, calculated tenderness, smooth as poured honey**. An anesthetic meant to dull every sharp edge of doubt.​**​ His lips moved over mine with devastating softness, a practiced erasure of conflict.

When the backs of my knees hit the mattress**, his body followed, pressing me down into the yielding softness.​**​ His lips brushed my ear, a hot brand searing into the dark: “Mine.” The word vibrated through me, a claim and a command wrapped together: “...We fix this.”

​My body answered—heated, yielding to exhaustion, drowning in the claustrophobic tangle of him.​​ Connection. However twisted. Proof I still existed within these walls. Until I have real proof it’s over, I thought grimly, holding onto him with a semblance of passion, I stay. For Jordan.

​My nails dug fierce anchors into the tense muscles of his back, needing purchase, needing ​to release the storm trapped within me.​