His Issues

Dhalia

Blake left in the midst of a quiet morning. He said goodbye with a quick kiss and a brief mention of a meeting. Left to the rhythm of my own thoughts, I started cooking, only for Jax to insist I sit down instead. We stayed in a strained silence; my mind was tangled up in the events of last night.

Watching Chase and Jax together had been an intense experience, different from anything before. But then everything shifted—Chase became defensive, pushed Jax away, and fled. The sound of doors slamming and Chase’s distant scream had punctured the tense quiet of the house.

I had the urge to go to him, to see if I could offer some comfort, but Jax advised against it, saying that Chase was too raw and might lash out. It was clear the confrontation wounded Jax deeply; the hurt was unmistakable in his eyes, a reflection of his confusion and pain caused by Chase’s abrupt shift.

Throughout what happened, Chase had an arm around Jax, not in rejection or resistance, but rather holding him clos