Blake’s POV
The silence is unbearable. The only sound is Jacob’s soft, rhythmic breathing, but even that doesn’t calm the storm inside me. I sit beside the crib, my knees pulled to my chest, my fingers gripping the edge of the wooden frame like it’s a lifeline.
The tears that started earlier haven’t stopped. They trail silently down my cheeks, each one carrying a piece of the anger, the guilt, the exhaustion. But none of it feels lighter. If anything, it feels heavier.
I stare at Jacob, his tiny chest rising and falling, his little face so peaceful. He doesn’t know how much chaos is happening around him—within me. And that’s a blessing, isn’t it? He’s safe. Protected. Loved. But why does it feel like it’s never enough?
I rub my hands over my face, my breath shuddering as I try to calm
