Chapter 6: The Unseen Struggles
The apartment upstairs was dusty and sparse—a single bed, a small kitchen table, and a window overlooking the tree line. That night, after making a temporary bed for Leo using spare blankets, Jax sat at the small kitchen table with Lara's letter under the dim overhead light.
Leo was fast asleep, exhausted from the days of travel. In the quiet of the night, Jax finally allowed himself to process the grief he had buried years ago. He stared at the photograph—the young man holding a tiny bundle in his arms, smiling with a mix of awe and terror.
He had run away because he thought he was too broken to be a good father. He had believed that leaving was an act of mercy. Now, faced with the reality of Leo’s loneliness, he realized that leaving had simply been cowardice wrapped in self-justification.
A soft sound came from the corner of the room. Jax turned to see Leo sitting up, shivering slightly in the cool night air.
"Can't sleep?" Jax asked softly.
Leo shook his head. "It's too quiet. Mom used to play the radio when it got dark."
Jax stood up, walked over to the side of the bed, and sat on the floor, resting his back against the wooden frame. "I don't have a radio, kid. But I can tell you a story about your mom."
May you like
Leo’s eyes brightened in the darkness. "Really?"
"Yeah," Jax murmured. "She was the bravest person I ever met. Let me tell you about the time she fixed an engine using nothing but a hairpin and a roll of duct tape."
