Jax’s POV
The room smelled like blood.
I stood in the doorway of our bedroom, staring at the sheets. Red stains. Dark and wet. Layla sat on the edge of the bed, her face pale, her hands clean now but I knew what they'd held. Chloe stood behind me, still talking, the words spilling out like water from a broken pipe.
"She was pregnant, Jax. She didn't want to tell you. She was going to get rid of it at first, then she changed her mind, but then... then she lost it. The baby died. She didn't tell you because she didn't know how."
I heard the words. They went in my ears and settled somewhere deep, heavy as stones.
Pregnant.
Baby.
Dead.
She hid it from me. All of it. The life we made together, growing inside her, and she didn't tell me.
"Why?" My voice came out rough. Broken.
Layla lo
