Married By Mistake

Chapter Twenty-Five: Found

Jax's POV

I turned my phone off around eight. Not silenced. Off.

I told myself I needed a few hours without it buzzing every four minutes, without Marcus's warnings or Aldous's careful, guilty emails or whatever Elena was about to tell me next. I told myself the dogs didn't care about any of it, and for a couple hours, walking Biscuit and then a pair of anxious terriers two blocks over, that turned out to be true.

It was the first quiet I'd had in two days.

I should have known it wouldn't last.

I was crouched down retying Waffles's leash outside Mrs. Alvarez's building when I heard the click of a camera shutter, fast, close, deliberate. Not the accidental kind of photo a stranger takes of their dog and catches me in the background of. The kind someone takes on purpose.

I looked up. A woman stood on the sidewalk a few feet away, phone lowered slightly now that she had what she wanted, watching me with an expression that was polite in the specific, practiced way that meant business.

"Jackson Romero?"

My whole body went still, the way it always does when that name shows up somewhere I didn't put it.

"Wrong guy," I said automatically, even though we both knew that wasn't going to work this time.

"I don't think so. I'm Marisol Chen, I write for Metro Weekly. I reached out to Elena Voss this morning, and I've been trying to reach you too." She held up her phone, not recording, just showing me the screen was dark. "I'm not trying to ambush you. I'd rather have an actual conversation than run something based on rumors and old footage."

"I have nothing to say."

"I understand that. But I want to be straightforward with you, because I think you deserve that more than most people I write about. This story is happening whether you talk to me or not. There's already a documentary team circling the same footage. There's already a gossip account with forty thousand followers running photos of you and Elena. I can either be one more voice speculating about who you are, or I can be the person who actually gets it right."

Waffles tugged at the leash, oblivious, sniffing at something in the grass like the entire conversation wasn't happening around him. I focused on that for a second, the ordinary, dumb normalcy of a dog who didn't care who I used to be.

"How did you find me here," I said. "This isn't public information."

"Public records, mostly. Your dog walking business is registered under your legal name. It wasn't hard." She said it gently, almost apologetic, which somehow made it worse. "I'm sorry to do this while you're working. I can come back another time if that's better."

"There's no better time. There's just not talking to you at all."

"That's your right." She didn't push, didn't crowd me, just stood there with her hands loose at her sides, patient in a way that felt almost more unsettling than aggression would have. "For what it's worth, I read about what happened in Vienna years ago, back when I was starting out. I remember thinking it was strange how quickly the story disappeared. Like someone wanted it to."

"Maybe I wanted it to."

"Maybe. Or maybe nobody ever asked you what actually happened, and it was easier to let the silence do the talking." She reached into her bag, pulled out a card, held it toward me without stepping closer. "If you ever want to be the one telling this story instead of everyone else telling it for you, my number's on there. No pressure. No deadline from me, at least."

I didn't take the card right away. Stood there with Waffles pulling gently at the leash, three other dogs waiting back at my apartment, a phone still off in my pocket with god knows how many messages piled up on it.

I took the card. I don't know why.

"I'm not promising anything," I said.

"I didn't ask you to." She turned to leave, then paused, glancing back at me one more time. "For what it's worth, the footage that's circulating cuts off before the end. Most people think you just walked off stage in the middle of a breakdown. I've heard from more than one source that isn't actually the full story. Might be worth deciding whether you want people believing the incomplete version forever."

She left before I could ask what she meant, walking off down the block like she hadn't just handed me the exact same unsettling half-truth Aldous had.

I stood on the sidewalk a long moment, three dogs circling my legs, the card sitting heavy in my jacket pocket like something I'd have to answer for eventually.

I turned my phone back on. It lit up immediately, buzzing over and over, a wall of missed calls and messages stacking up on the screen, Elena's name at the top of nearly all of them.

The most recent one, sent eleven minutes ago, stopped me cold.

Elena: She found you, didn't she. I just got off the phone with her. I'm so sorry, Jax. Call me. Please.