Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 290

JAX'S POV

We stood outside the cemetery gates, the bike cooling behind us. My heart was pounding like I’d sprinted there instead of riding. The air was cold but my palms were sweating anyway.

I was holding flowers. They’d been delivered that morning....white and soft, the kind you buy when you actually think things through. Xander had ordered them, handed them to me without a word.

I looked through the open gate, knowing exactly where they were.

Andrew and Joe.

Side by side.

Two stones I had never found the courage to stand in front of. My chest tightened with that familiar squeeze. Like grief stretching awake inside me after years of pretending it was dead. Xander stepped closer. Not touching me, just close enough for his warmth to settle against my side.

“You ready?” he asked, voice low.

I swallowed, the flowers trembled in my grip. I didn’t say yes, but I nodded once and pushed the gate open. The hinges groaned, the sound rolling across the still, empty grounds.

I’d looked up the damn book that morning. *The Lost Art of Surrender*. Woke up too early, my brain already clawing at it like it mattered, like missing this one stupid detail meant I was letting Andrew down all over again. The thing barely existed online, like it had slipped through the cracks of the universe. Old, weathered, probably out of print before I was even born.

I had no idea where Andrew had even gotten it. And I couldn’t explain why it suddenly felt like a test I was already failing. Maybe my mind just needed something to fixate on so I wouldn’t actually think about what I was doing today.

Yesterday, it had felt doable. Manageable. But morning light hit different. Morning light stripped the bullshit away.

Xander had noticed, because Xander always notices. He’d said he’d find something. Went online, did whatever quiet magic he did, and fifteen minutes later he’d pulled up a tiny clip from over five years ago....a girl reviewing books she’d read that week. And there it was, in her hands like a relic. She’d called it a hard read. Said it didn’t hand you anything gently. She hadn’t spoiled the ending, but she talked about her favorite scenes, her favorite lines.... and the one that hit me right in the sternum was, *I spent half my life holding my breath for storms that never came.*

She’d talked about the quote and why it stuck with her. Because she’d grown up expecting impact, expecting pain, and she didn’t know how to live without bracing for it. So she held her breath, waiting for something awful that never arrived, and missed half her life doing it.

And somehow, by the end of the clip, I felt steadier. Like maybe I could do this. We walked past rows and rows of graves. Marble. Stone. Angels standing watch with chipped wings and weathered faces.

This was already further than I’d ever managed to come.

And then I saw them....two headstones, side by side. I knew the shapes instantly. I kept my gaze locked on them the whole way there. And the first words that hit my eyes felt like a punch.

‘In loving memory of Joseph D. Risk’

There had been nothing loving about the way I’d kept their memory. Nothing gentle. Nothing worthy.

If Joe’s grave had been somewhere else, anywhere else, I probably would’ve dragged myself there sooner. But they were right next to each other. There was no way to visit one without feeling the ghost of the other. So I’d visited neither.

I blinked hard, looked away. Not because it hurt....pain I can handle. But regret's the one that strips you bare.

I divided the flowers into two uneven halves and knelt to place the first bunch at Joe’s grave. Then I shifted to Andrew’s and a sharp breath left me. I dragged another in as I set the rest of the flowers down.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice lower than I expected. “For not coming sooner. You're probably pissed at me.”

A humorless exhale escaped. “I don’t blame you.”

I forced air through a throat that didn’t want to open. “I just needed time. More than I thought I would. But I’m here now.”

My eyes drifted over both stones. “What happened back then.... I didn’t handle it well. At all.”

A beat.

“But I’m doing better. I’m trying my best.”

My gaze softened on Andrew’s name. “You should know that, at least.”

I turned slightly, gesturing behind me.

“This is Xander,” I murmured. He stood a few steps back, hands in his jacket pockets, giving me space but still tethering me to the world. “He’s my boyfriend, and he's really good for me.” My jaw flexed. I looked back at Andrew’s stone, “I’m okay, and wherever you are.... I hope you’re alright too.”

I stood there a while longer after that, long after I realized I didn’t have anything else in me to say. I let the quiet sit between us. Let it settle. Let it be whatever it needed to be. Then after a moment, I gave a small nod. A promise. Late as hell, but real.

“I’ll come back,” My voice sounded worn, almost unfamiliar. “I’ll visit more often. I should’ve done that a long time ago.” My lips curved into a small smile, then I added.....“I’m starting a restaurant. I hope it’ll be something you’re proud of. Both of you.”

The truth of it hit me harder than the words themselves. Like I’d finally exhaled after years of not letting myself breathe.

I turned then, met Xander’s eyes, and gave him the smallest nod to mean I was done.

He stepped forward without hesitation, like he’d been waiting for that cue. His hand found mine, his fingers threading through like he was anchoring me back into my own body.

Then he looked at their graves, his voice soft but sure. “I’ll take care of him,” he said. “You don’t have to worry. He’s safe.”

Something in my chest twisted....sharp, but not painful. More like relief trying to make space where guilt had been crowding for years.

Once we were back outside the gates, the gravel crunching under my boots, I let my gaze settle on Xander. He stood there, hand brushing against mine. And I finally let a small, crooked smile slip. “I think I know now,” I said.

He blinked at me, a brow lifting. “Know what?”

I let the words hang for a beat, letting the moment stretch before I spoke. “What I’m gonna name the restaurant.”

He gave a small smile, looking past the gates at the cemetery for a second before returning his gaze to me. “Yeah? And what's that? ”