Avery had fallen asleep at the desk in her dad's office when the soft ringing of her phone woke her. Sleepily, she lifted the device to her hear and answered the call without looking at the screen.

"Hey. It's me. Can you talk?"

"What time is it?" Avery asked sleepily as she stretched the sore muscles of her back.

"12:45" said Jax.

"Wow. No wonder I fell asleep. I didn't sleep much last night and it's nearly 5:00 a.m in the Carolina's. I'm still adjusting to the time difference." Avery said, yawning.

"Can you come outside? I feel like we need to talk."

"Yeah, we do," said Avery. "Give me a minute and I'll be out."

"Okay. I'll be on the swing?" Asked Jax.

"Sounds good.." Said Avery.

Avery ended the call and went upstairs to brush her teeth. Looking in the mirror, she saw the dark circles under her eyes, evidence of her sleeplessness and tears. However, she had more pressing concerns. She needed to have a difficult conversation with Jax, a conversation she wasn't looking forward to but was anxious to complete.

Wanting to avoid keeping Jax waiting, she quickly went downstairs and quietly exited the house.

He waited as promised, the old wooden swing creaking softly beneath his weight. The full moon danced between the leaves of the trees overhead, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow on the worn planks of the porch. When she finally appeared in the doorway, a hesitant figure framed by the dim interior of the house, he straightened slightly, a flicker of anticipation in his eyes. He didn't rise, though, content to let her approach at her own pace. The space between them on the swing felt vast as she settled down beside him, the silence stretching, thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions.

"I guess I have some explaining to do," said Jax after a few moments of silence.

Avery let out a frustrated huff, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "That's putting it mildly, Jax," she retorted, her voice laced with exasperation. "When I specifically asked you about this, why on earth did you deliberately omit some rather crucial details? You are perfectly aware of my unwavering stance on honesty, Jax. It's not just a preference; it's a fundamental principle in any relationship, whether that be a relation that's simply friendly or one that is filled with all sorts of twists and turns because of our past. To think that you would intentionally withhold information, especially information that seems this significant, is incredibly disheartening and frankly, quite upsetting. I need to understand your reasoning, Jax. What possessed you to think that leaving out these 'pretty important' pieces of the puzzle was an acceptable course of action?"

"I didn't know how to tell you."

"That's not a valid excuse and you know it."

"I know," Jax sighed heavily, the sound laced with a mixture of weariness and disbelief. He leaned back on the swing causing it to sway gently. His gaze fixed somewhere beyond the inky blackness of the early morning hour. "It's just... a mere twenty-four hours ago, the very notion of sitting across from you at dinner, sharing a meal and conversation like we were doing, was something I couldn't have possibly thought would ever happen again. To be brutally honest, I never entertained the thought that our paths would ever cross again, certainly not in the close proximity of the same town. The years since you lfet have spun by, and I'd resigned myself to a reality where our lives remained on separate coasts, distant memories fading with each passing day. This... this feels surreal, like a scene plucked from a dream I'd long since forgotten."

"That still doesn't mean that you can just leave out that kind of information, Jax. I was bound to find out at some point. And then what? Would you have lied about it all? Would you have even told me?"

"Of course I would have," said Jax. "I just hoped that I had time to figure out how to tell you."

A heavy silence descended between them, thick and clinging like the humid night air. The usual nocturnal chorus of the rural landscape was reduced to the insistent chirping of crickets, their rhythmic calls only serving to amplify the profound stillness of the midnight hour. No other sounds dared to intrude upon the quietude that had fallen, a blanket of absolute soundlessness woven with the very fabric of the deep night. The air hung suspended, each unspoken thought and lingering emotion adding to the palpable tension that stretched taut between them in the darkness.

Avery finally broke the silence with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of unspoken thoughts. "Well, I know now," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, as if the admission itself held a certain fragility. The quiet between them lingered, thick and heavy, each unspoken word hanging in the air like a tangible presence. The air in the small room felt charged, the unacknowledged understanding a palpable force.

"Are you okay? I mean with everything that's happened today?" Avery finally asked.

"To be honest, I don't know. I wasn't ready to be a dad when Wendy tricked me into knocking her up. Now, I can't imagine not being a father. Does that even make sense?" Said Jax.

"It does," Avery acknowledged. "And to be clear, even though many years have gone by, I want you to know I wouldn't hold having a son from a casual encounter against you. I would have been willing to help you regardless. Hell, I'm still willing to help you even though you left out some pretty pertinent information."

"No. I know you wouldn't. I just didn't want to make our dinner awkward by telling you I was in the middle of a divorce and getting ready to become a dad." Said Jax.

"And finding out you were married at the hospital was any less awkward?" Asked Avery.

"Hindsight being 20/20 and all that, I guess it would have been less awkward to have told you at the diner."

"Yeah, I guess so." Said Avery.

"Thank you for being there for me," Jax murmured, his voice thick with emotion. The weight of unspoken gratitude hung in the air between them. He looked at the person before him, his eyes reflecting a depth of appreciation that words alone could not fully capture. It wasn't just about a single act of kindness, a reliable support that had carried him through a difficult time. The words were simple, almost insufficient, yet they held the culmination of relief, comfort, and a profound sense of not being alone. The circumstances that led to this moment were heavy, a tapestry woven with threads of challenge and uncertainty, but the unwavering support he had received had been a constant source of strength.

"Speaking of being there for you, I told your mom and dad that I'm going to draw up some papers so you can file for sole custody. I'm also going to draw up some papers for fetal abuse since Abel's conditions are directly linked to Wendy's drug use." Said Avery, dropping Abel's name so she could gauge Jax's reaction.

"Mom told you his name." Jax said. It was more of a statement than a question.

"She did. It's a good name. He's going to need a strong name with the way he came into this world."

"True that. I remember the day we stumbled upon that name just like it was yesterday." Said Jax.

Avery said, "Jax, I'm exhausted tonight, and I'd really rather not discuss why you chose that name for your son. Let's not go there."

"Okay. So.... about the papers. How soon will you have them drawn up?"

"I'll draw them up first thing in the morning. Come by the office so you can sign when you get a chance." Said Avery.

"Will do. So I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" Asked Jax.

"Yep. I guess so." Said Avery as she yawned.

"Go get some rest, Vee."

"Okay. Good night."

"Good night baby girl."

Avery was about to snake back into the house when suddenly Jax whisper-yelled, "Avery! Wait!."

Softly closing the door, she took a step towards him. "What is it, Jax?"

"You forgot something." Said Jax.

"What?"

"You forgot this," Jax murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down Avery's spine. He closed the small distance between them, his hand reaching out to gently cup her cheek. The unexpected warmth of his touch made her breath catch in her throat. He pulled her closer, the solid feel of his chest against hers a comforting yet electrifying sensation. His gaze locked with hers, a silent question passing between them before his lips descended onto hers. The kiss was anything but gentle; it was urgent, demanding, a fervent claiming that spoke of unspoken desires and a longing that had lingered beneath the surface. Their mouths met with a soft sigh from Avery, quickly escalating into a passionate tangle. Tongues danced and explored, a frantic rhythm born of years spent apart and unspoken words. A wildfire ignited within Avery, spreading rapidly through her veins, melting away any lingering doubts or hesitations. Her hands instinctively found their way to his hair, her fingers weaving through the blonde strands as the kiss deepened, pulling her further into the intoxicating moment. The world around them seemed to fade away, the only reality the feel of his lips on hers, the taste of him, the raw emotion that pulsed between them like a tangible force.

When Jax broke the kiss, both of his callused hands cupped her cheeks as he tipped her head back to look into her eyes. "I've been wanting to do that since I saw you last night at the store. God, I've missed you." Said Jax

"I've missed you too, Jax." Said Avery as she looked up at Jax.

"Go get some rest baby girl" said Jax as he caressed Avery's cheek, sending goosebumps over Avery's body. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay."

Avery watched as Jax turned and walked back to his bike before going inside and locking the door. When she heard the roar of his bike, she walked to the kitchen looking for something to take the edge off. Finding one of her dads beers in the fridge, she twisted off the top and drained over half of it before turning it down.

Avery's return to town has been anything but uneventful. In less than 36 hours, she's already encountered her ex, discovered he has a child with a troubled mother and is seemingly married, and shared a kiss with a married man. This short period has been more dramatic than her entire stay in North Carolina.

Exhausted and emotionally drained, Avery tipped the empty wine bottle upside down, the last few meager drops clinging stubbornly to the glass. With a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the day's disappointments, she deposited the bottle with a soft clink into the overflowing kitchen trash can. The silence of the downstairs was heavy, a stark contrast to the turmoil churning within her.

Slowly, deliberately, Avery began her ascent up the creaking wooden stairs to the sanctuary of her bedroom. Each step felt like an effort, her limbs heavy and unresponsive. Reaching the familiar space, she moved on autopilot, shedding the clothes that had confined her throughout the long day. The soft, familiar feel of her cotton pajamas against her skin offered a small measure of comfort. Finally, she pulled back the covers of her bed and slid beneath them, the coolness of the sheets a momentary relief. The darkness of the room enveloped her, but it offered no immediate escape from the thoughts that continued to race through her mind.

"Never a dull moment when you're in Charming," she whispered to herself just before falling asleep.