The days that followed were quiet. Too quiet. Jade barely spoke, barely ate, and spent most of her time in her room with Luna curled up beside her. The men tried everything to lift her spirits—Thiago cooked her favorite meals, Enzo brought her flowers, and Milan sat with her in silence, offering his steady support. But nothing seemed to reach her.
One evening, Jade sat on the couch, staring blankly at the television while Luna played with a toy on the floor. Thiago walked in with a plate of food and set it on the coffee table in front of her.
“Jade, you’ve got to eat,” he said gently. “You’ve barely touched anything all day.”
“I’m not hungry,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
Thiago sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. You’re going to get sick.”
Jade didn’t respond. She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders and continued staring at the screen, though she wasn’t watching it.
Milan and Enzo entered the room, exchanging worried glances. Milan sat down beside her, his icy-blue eyes serious. “Jade,” he said softly but firmly, “we can’t stand by and watch you spiral like this. You’re hurting, and it’s okay to hurt. But you need help.”
Jade finally turned to look at him, her eyes brimming with tears. “I don’t know how to stop feeling like this,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “It’s like there’s this… emptiness, and nothing can fill it.”
Enzo crouched in front of her, taking her hands in his. “That’s why we want you to talk to someone. A professional. Someone who can help you work through this.”
Jade’s brows furrowed. “You want me to see a psychologist?”
“Yes,” Milan said without hesitation. “This isn’t something you have to face alone. And it’s not a weakness to ask for help.”
Thiago sat on her other side, his tone gentle. “We’ll find the best psychologist there is. Someone you’re comfortable with. But you’ve got to give it a chance.”
Jade looked down at her lap, her fingers trembling slightly. The idea of opening up to a stranger scared her, but so did the thought of continuing to feel this way. She let out a shaky breath. “Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll try.”
True to their word, Milan quickly arranged for a highly recommended psychologist to visit the house. Dr. Evelyn Hart arrived two days later, her calm and kind demeanor immediately putting Jade at ease. Their first session was quiet, more of a conversation to get to know each other.
Jade was hesitant at first, but as the sessions continued, she found herself opening up about the accident, the loss, and the deep sadness that had consumed her. Dr. Hart listened patiently, offering gentle guidance and helping Jade process her grief one step at a time.
One afternoon, after a particularly emotional session, Jade sat in the backyard with Luna in her lap. The kitten purred softly, her tiny body a comforting weight. For the first time in weeks, Jade felt a small flicker of hope. She wasn’t healed, not yet, but she was starting to believe that healing was possible.
When Milan, Enzo, and Thiago joined her outside, she looked up at them with a faint smile. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “For not giving up on me.”
“We never will,” Milan said, his voice steady. “We’re in this together.”
***
The warm aroma of grilled vegetables and sizzling meat wafted through the air as Jade stood in the kitchen, humming softly to herself. She was chopping fresh vegetables for a salad to go with the barbecue Milan, Thiago, and Enzo were preparing outside. The sunlight streaming through the large windows made the kitchen feel cozy, and for the first time in weeks, Jade felt something close to normalcy.
Her healing process hadn’t been easy, but she was determined to move forward. The sessions with Dr. Hart had helped her confront her grief, and the unwavering support of the men around her made each day a little more bearable. Cooking lunch for them felt like a small but significant way to give back.
She tossed the vegetables into a large bowl, sprinkling in a mix of herbs before drizzling a light vinaigrette on top. The sound of laughter drifted in from the backyard, and Jade smiled, picturing Thiago cracking jokes while Milan rolled his eyes. She grabbed the serving tray and began arranging the plates when her phone buzzed on the counter.
Curious, she wiped her hands on a towel and picked it up. The screen displayed a text message from an unknown number. Frowning slightly, she opened it.
Her blood ran cold as she read the words: “Your baby died, but next time it will be you.”
Jade’s breath hitched, and the phone slipped from her hands, clattering onto the counter. She gripped the edge of the kitchen island, her knees threatening to give out. The cruel, hateful words seemed to echo in her mind, suffocating her.
“No,” she whispered to herself, shaking her head. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her vision blurred with unshed tears.