“So…” Jake starts, casual but precise. “Are you… angry with Hunter?”
Axel doesn’t answer. He just shifts his weight, brushing a hand over the last log as if it will somehow absorb the question. Jake watches him carefully, not pressing yet—he knows Axel, knows when to push and when to let a man wrestle with himself.
After a beat, Jake shakes his head. “You can’t be mad at him either, can you?” he says, half rhetorical, half warning. “I mean… that’s just not you.”
Axel finally lifts his gaze, meeting Jake’s. His eyes are steady, but there is a tightness in his jaw, a shadow that Jake knows means he is thinking deeper than he lets on. He shakes his head slowly. “I’m not angry with him either,” Axel admits, voice low, even. But there’s a pause, a slight exhale, and then, “But I’m not happy.
