Page 53 of These Jagged Edges

Oh, this is a storm I can manage. Maddox knows just as well as I do that if he didn’t want her to come inside, she wouldn’t have. His frustration with me is misplaced and pointless. I understand that taking his anger out on me won’t ease his pain or change the situation. We both know the boundaries, and I’m prepared to weather this storm, knowing that directing his frustration at me isn’t a solution. I’ve seen enough of Maddox’s struggles to recognize that, in the end, his anger is a way to deal with his own helplessness and grief.

"Did you not see her Maddox? She was terrified and you were looming over her like a damn lunatic."

"You've lost your God?—"

"Enough." I held my palm out, silencing him like he did Allison earlier. "Maddox, I love you. However, my love for you doesn't mean I'll be your verbal punching bag."

This approach won’t benefit Maddox in the slightest. He needs someone who can love him with fierce dedication, someone willing to challenge him and confront him head-on. It isn’t enough to simply offer comfort or tell him what he wants to hear. True love involves delivering the hard truths, even when they’re painful. It’s about standing firm, encouraging him to face reality, and pushing him to strive for improvement. To truly support Maddox, I have to be that unwavering presence, not afraid to be honest and push him toward becoming a better version of himself.

“Say it again,” he gently demands as he sits back down into his chair and pulls me onto his lap.

“I’m not your punching bag?” I tease him, trying to lighten the mood.

“Woman,” he warns.

I take a page from his book, gently caressing the side of his face. His olive skin has darkened under the sun today, accentuating thestark white scar on his lip. I trace the scar with my fingertip, feeling the rough texture against his otherwise smooth skin. He hums deep in his chest, a rich sound of contentment that resonates between us, responding to my touch with warmth and tenderness.

“I love you, Maddox Cole.”

Maddox gives me a rare smile before placing a chaste kiss on my lips. “But I loved you first, Pretty Girl.”

Maddox Wilder loves despite himself, and damn if he doesn’t love with every fiber of his being.

Maddox breathes a heavy sigh against my neck. "She's probably lying."

"What if she's not?" I tenderly stroke his hair.

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Chapter Twenty-One

MADDOX

Allison's visitis all I can think about. I thought I would feel better after but in truth, I feel like a weight is sitting on my chest. She had chosen drugs over her daughter; she threw away all that time she could have spent with Livvy just to get high. I was the one who kicked her out of our home, but she was gone long before that. I was never hung up on how our relationship turned out even before throwing her out, but that baby was my fucking world.

Losing her wasn’t just a heartbreaking event—it was a shattering of everything I held dear. While the end of our relationship was painful, it paled in comparison to the agony of losing a child who meant more to me than anything else. My focus and my heart were entirely wrapped around that baby, and without her, the sense of loss felt like a devastating void that eclipsed everything else in my life.

I've been at the gym the past week exhausting myself, trying to make sense of it all. It hasn’t worked. Lucien had enough of myshit two days ago and stormed out leaving me alone, and without a sparring partner.

Black Sabbath blares in the gym as I load more and more weight to the rack before starting another set. I get two reps in when the music comes to a sudden stop, and two eyes as green as my own come into view.

"You always did prefer the gym to people."

"Mama,” I breathe out as I take in the sight of my mother standing before me.

"Hi, Maddy." She smiles at me tenderly.

Magnolia Wilder wraps her arms around me, and I'm instantly transported back in time to being a little boy afraid of the dark and needing his Mama to help soothe him to sleep. I’m not ashamed to admit no matter how big I've grown or old I’ve gotten that there’s nothing like a hug from her. Henry and I always joke that she hugs you with her heart because she was able to make you feel so damn much from one.

She'd been on a year-long trip across Europe, one she's always dreamed of taking but seemed to always find a way to delay it. It wasn't until she retired from teaching at Thunder Ridge Elementary that we finally convinced her to take it, Henry and I just extended it out 10 months longer than she originally intended.

"Mercy?" I ask, knowing damn good and well one of my brothers must have called and ratted me out.

She gives me a knowing look. "Henry." That rat bastard.

I feel ashamed my brother called her back here because of me. "Mama, you didn't need to come back because of me. I’m fine.”

She pins with the same look she did when I was seventeen and tried to lie to her about the girl that had snuck out my bedroom window. "Of course, I did. You may be a grown man with more brawl than brains at times, but you’re still my baby. Besides, I think we've let you sit alone with this for too long."

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