Page 146 of Undisputed Player
Jax’s smile was slow, that cocky Jax Easton glint tempered into something sweeter. He crowded but didn’t suffocate, his palm finding my waist, thumb brushing just beneath the softness of my tee.
“You deserve to exist in a place that’s yours. All of this,” he gestured with a sweep of his hand—the view, the sparklingwater, the sheer scale of possibility, “is for you. Whatever you want, whenever you want it. That’s how home should feel.”
He pressed a warm kiss to my cheek, the kind of kiss that tugged at the tightness still wound in me, promising I didn’t have to be so strong anymore.
The words tumbled out before I could catch them. “Thank you for making this feel like ours. For making space for me.”
He cupped my face in his hands, his blue eyes intense. "You never have to thank me for taking care of what's mine, Estelle. Never."
I wasn't alone anymore. I didn't have to be strong every minute of every day. I could lean on Jax, and trust that he wouldn't let me fall.
It was the most liberating feeling I'd ever experienced. The fear, the fight, the wild beating of broken wings—those had shaped me, but they would not define this life. Not anymore.
I held my fancy coffee, watched Leo at the breakfast bar, and let myself truly exhale.
Welcome home.
EPILOGUE ONE
Estelle
The air in the third-floor room was warm, golden light creeping sideways across the hardwood where I sat cross-legged on the soft rug.
All around me, the photos I’d collected since moving in formed a mural on the wall. Jax had turned this room into my personal nook, even though he claimed every room was exactly that.
A few photos were Jax holding Leo on his shoulders at famous parks, Avery posing with Leo, triumphant and wild-haired at her last recital, Sierra and me playing with Toffee.
And Giselle, as always, with that spark of laughter and mischief in her eyes.
My fingertip brushed over a picture of her, one of the few I had. She looked like me, but her hair was more wavy, and she always had that look on her face, the one meaning she was up to no good.
Next to her photo, the simple urn I’d chosen for my sister’s ashes caught the morning sun. The matte ceramic was interrupted only by a swirl of green, like a wisp of captured meadow.
I let my gaze rest there. Giselle would tease me for how meticulous I kept this room. She’d approve of everything else, though—the pricier furniture, the soft cream throws, the steady, clean peace.
For the first time in years, I hadn’t woken up this morning mired in dread. I’d expected the sadness of today, the heavy knot that always sank into my chest on the anniversary, but the house was too full of life now to let me be entirely drowned by it.
I heard Jax’s footsteps before the door creaked open, heavy yet quiet. I didn’t move, but my heart beat a little faster, as it always did for him.
After months of sharing a home, I was still getting used to the way he filled every room—part storm, part sunrise.
He leaned in the doorway for a moment, his eyes soft. “Hey, princess.”
I tilted my face up, and he crossed the room, kneeling behind me where I sat. His strong arms curved around my waist, holding me close. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and leaned forward to nuzzle just behind my ear.
I reached up to lay my hand over his, threading our fingers together, letting him hold me.
I didn’t need to tell him what today was; he knew. He knew everything.
He gently stroked my hair back from my cheek, his thumb brushing the shell of my ear.
“I know it’s a hard day,” he soothed into my hair, voice soft. “I was thinking about Giselle, too. And Leo.”
My throat tightened. I squeezed his hand, staying silent, and letting the moment stretch out. His warmth at my back, the comforting scent of him, his fresh-pressed shirt still faintly soapy, eased the nerves thrumming just below the surface.
He rocked me a bit, like a baby. “So… I planned something. I thought maybe it’d make today a little lighter for Leo. Hell, for all of us.”
I blinked, turning my head enough to see his expression. There was something mischievous there, a boyish spark underneath the always-there confidence, the little edge that softened only for me.
