Layla’s POV
I sat on Chloe's couch, staring at the wall. Hours had passed since I ran from the bar. Since Jax said those words. Chloe came in with two mugs of tea. She set one in front of me and sat down.
"He didn't mean it," she said.
"He meant it." My voice was flat. "He asked if the baby was Colt's. Our baby. That died inside me. And he asked if it was some other man's."
Chloe was quiet for a long moment. Then, "Men are stupid. Especially when they're scared."
"Scared of what?"
"Of losing you. Of not being enough. Of all of it." She sipped her tea. "Jax loves you, Layla. He just doesn't know how to show it right."
I didn't answer. The words didn't help.
Days passed. I stayed at Chloe's. Jax didn't come. Didn't call. Just sent Rico to check on me, like I was a package that needed
