You sat on the edge of the bed in the small room Jerry had given you in the Jackson infirmary. The weight of everything sat heavy in your chest — the baby growing inside you, Joel’s cold words, Ellie’s silence, Jerry’s quiet but watchful presence. You missed Joel. You missed what it felt like to be safe in his arms. But that version of him felt gone now, buried under guilt, fear, and the weight of everything he lost.

When the door creaked open, your heart lifted for just a second — maybe it was Joel, maybe he changed his mind.

But it was Jerry.

He gave a soft nod. “How’re you feeling today?” His voice was gentle, but there was an edge to it whenever Joel’s name came up — and it always came up eventually.

You gave a tired shrug. “Sick. Alone. Like I messed everything up.”

Jerry knelt beside you, resting a hand lightly on your knee. “You didn’t mess anything up. Joel made his choice. I warned you what kind of man he was.”

You looked away. “He wasn’t always like that.”

“He was. You just didn’t want to see it,” Jerry said softly. “But I see you. You and that baby deserve better.”

You felt your eyes burn, tears threatening to fall, but you held them back. You didn’t want to cry in front of Jerry again. You didn’t want to be weak. But god, you missed Joel. You missed him so much your chest ached.