Night's Embrace
The day had dragged by, a blur of whispered condolences and somber faces, but Zara barely registered any of it. Her world felt as though it had split in two, leaving her stranded in an emptiness that seemed to echo through every room of the house. Now, the silence of the night weighed heavily, settling on her shoulders and squeezing out the last of her strength.
Dressed in a black nightgown with delicate lace tracing her collarbones and skimming her wrists, she sat curled in her chair, looking as fragile as the fabric itself. Her tear-streaked cheeks glistened faintly in the dim light, and her eyes were glassy, fixed somewhere far beyond the shadows stretching across her room.
The faint scent of jasmine hung in the air like her grandmother’s arms wrapped around her one last time. It was the only thing anchoring her, though each breath of it stung more than the last. She shivered, pulling her knees to her chest, feeling more alone than ever.
A soft knock broke through her trance, and she looked up as Jax stepped inside, his presence filling the quiet space. In his hands, he held a steaming mug, but his gaze was fixed on her, caught in a moment of hesitation as he took her in.
He looked at her with a mix of admiration and grief, eyes tracing her figure draped in an elegant black nightgown. The delicate lace framed her silhouette, accentuating her graceful waist and soft curves, while the dark fabric skimmed her body, clinging like shadows. The gown flowed down her legs, pooling around her feet. There was something hauntingly beautiful about her — the way her sadness seemed to amplify every graceful line, every soft curve. For a moment, he forgot himself, caught between the urge to comfort and the unexpected pull of his own desires.
In a few quite steps, he was at her side. Without a word, he draped a warm blanket over her shoulders, fingers lingering just long enough for her to feel the quiet strength behind them. She looked up, meeting his gaze, and for a brief moment, her grief softened in the warmth of his presence.
He gently set the mug on the table beside her, letting the scent of the coffee fill the room, but his attention was still on her.
“Can I stay?” he asked quietly, his gaze searching her face. When she nodded, too exhausted to find the words, he sat down beside her, his hand brushing against hers, grounding her in his presence.
They sat in silence for a long time, his fingers slowly closing over hers, warm and reassuring.
Zara finally spoke, her voice a whisper that trembled as she let go of what she had been holding back all day. “She was the last of my family,” she choked out, her voice cracking. “Everything she did… it was for me. I just… I don’t know who I am without her.”
Jax’s hand squeezed hers gently. “You’re not alone, Zara,” he murmured, his voice a quiet promise. “You have me. We’ll carry on everything she built. Together.”
She looked up at him, grateful for his steady presence, for the way he seemed unshaken, as though he could hold everything together while she fell apart. At that moment, he felt like a lifeline.
“But I wasn’t there for her, Jax,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “I should have been with her in those last moments. I was at that party, lost in the noise, and she needed me. I didn’t know that night would cost me so much.”
Jax shifted uneasily. It was supposed to be their engagement night—a time for joy and promise—but all he felt was the weight of her grief. Deep down, he wished she wouldn’t dwell on that night, that she wouldn’t linger on the loss of an old woman who had lived a full life. It felt unfair to him.
Still, he held his tongue, unsure of how to voice his thoughts without adding to her pain. Instead, he watched her, his heart heavy, torn between wanting to lift her spirits and the instinct to respect her sorrow.
“Zara,” he finally said, his voice low and steady. “You didn’t know. None of us did. It was her time. Every elder passes on eventually, handing their legacy to the next generation. That’s just how it works.”
But Zara shook her head, a fresh wave of tears spilling over. “I don’t know anything about running a business, about family… It was always her. She took care of everything, and now… now I’m just lost. How can I handle this alone?” The sob that escaped her was raw, a child’s wail echoing in the hollow room.
Jax stepped closer, his heart aching for her. “Who says you have to manage everything?” he asked softly, searching her eyes. “I’m here for you, Zara, I’m here to help you with your life, comfort, and business. Just let me take care of it. You just need to relax, okay, baby?”
She looked up at him, the pain etched on her face. His hands found her shoulders, grounding her. “You don’t have to face this alone,” he added, his voice firm yet gentle. “You have me. Just lean on me.”
Zara let out a shaky breath, her tears continuing to flow, but this time, they felt lighter somehow. She could almost believe that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t have to carry this burden by herself.
Gradually, her tears subsided, and he pulled her gently into his arms. “I’ll be here as long as you need,” he whispered against her hair, his hand stroking her back. His heartbeat was slow and steady, a calm rhythm against the chaos of her emotions. She let herself sink into the comfort of his embrace, feeling the tension in her body begin to unravel as he traced gentle circles along her back.
With a soft brush of his lips, he kissed her forehead, lingering there as if to reassure her with the simple warmth of his presence. “You don’t have to face any of this alone, Zara. I’ll take care of everything,” he promised softly, his words almost melting into the darkness around them. “We’ll honor her memory, and I’ll protect you. I’m here.”
She closed her eyes, letting his words soothe her. His hand moved to her hair, fingers weaving through it slowly, carefully, as if he were trying to cradle the broken pieces of her heart. His touch was tender, comforting… yet she sensed something more beneath the surface, a restrained longing in the way his hands lingered a bit too long, how he seemed to pull her closer with each passing moment.
As he ran his thumb softly along her cheek, his gaze darkened, his face close to hers. “Zara…” His voice was a murmur, his eyes dropping to her lips. He leaned in, a spark of hunger in his expression that felt both inviting and unsettling.
But the grief was too fresh, too raw, filling her every thought, every breath. She stiffened slightly, her eyes flickering away from his as she placed a gentle hand against his chest, stopping him just before his lips reached hers.
“I… I’m not ready,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, her gaze dropping in apology. She searched his face, hoping he would understand, but dreading that she might disappoint him.
For a brief moment, something unreadable flashed in his eyes—disappointment, perhaps, or frustration—but he quickly masked it, a soft sigh escaping his lips. He leaned back slightly, offering her a small, reassuring smile that seemed just a touch too tight.
“I understand,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just… hate to see you hurting like this. I thought maybe… I could help you forget, even if just for a little while.”
He let his hand linger on her shoulder, his thumb tracing soft, comforting patterns as if he were unwilling to entirely let go. Then, with a gentleness that took her by surprise, he pulled her close again, letting her rest her head against his chest.
“We don’t have to do anything,” he said, his voice soothing, almost a whisper. “I’ll just hold you. We’ll stay right here, like this.”
She relaxed into his embrace, grateful for his understanding, the warmth of his body a comforting shield against the cold emptiness left in her heart. She let her eyes close, surrendering herself to the rhythm of his breathing and the way his hands moved softly over her back, grounding her in the present.
As the night wore on, Jax remained at her side, never once letting go. His hand traced soothing circles along her spine, each movement a quiet murmur of reassurance and strength. In his arms, Zara found a fragile sense of peace, a momentary escape from the pain that threatened to consume her.
Eventually, fatigue wrapped around her like a heavy blanket, and her eyelids grew heavy. As she drifted into a deep sleep, the warmth of his presence cocooned her in solace. Jax watched her, relief flooding through him as her breathing steadied and the tension in her shoulders eased.
The way she fit against him, the soft curve of her body melding into his, made him feel anchored in a world that had felt chaotic. At that moment, he couldn't help but think, At least I’m this close to her. He relished the warmth of her against him, missing the kiss she hadn’t allowed but finding comfort in their simple closeness.
Yet a flicker of frustration stirred within him. Why was she so consumed by grief for a woman who had spent her final days in bed, barely able to connect with the world around her? It felt pointless, and he wished Zara could realize that it was time to let go and focus on her own life instead.