As I sit on the couch, the book resting on my lap, I find myself absorbed not so much in the story itself but in the little marks I’ve made throughout its pages. These marks have become something of an obsession for me. They’re the places where I’ve seen Dhalia react—whether it’s a quiet gasp, a tear rolling down her cheek, or that subtle squirm of excitement that she can’t quite hide. Whenever she reads with me in the room, and I catch one of those reactions, I make sure to mark the page number. Later, when she’s done, I go back and read those specific sections, trying to decode what it is about these words that stirs something inside her.

It all started small. At first, I only marked the pages that elicited a blush or a quiet moan—scenes of sex that clearly struck a chord. It didn’t take long to realise that it wasn’t just those moments that mattered to her. She would also react to the tender, the heartbreaking, and the unexpectedly sweet moments with an equal, if not more profound, intensity. It intrigued me—no, more than that—it fascinated me. So I began marking every page that had a reaction on her. Her reactions weren’t tied to the grand, over-the-top gestures often glorified in romance novels. The chapters where billionaires whisk their lovers away in private jets or shower them with expensive jewellery didn’t make her eyes sparkle in quite the same way.

No, Dhalia was different. She swooned at the simple, the everyday, the deeply personal. A surprise picnic in the park, a lazy day spent in pajamas with a movie marathon, or even just a comforting body massage after a long day—these were the moments that melted her heart. It was in these small, intimate gestures that she found the most meaning, and that realisation has changed everything for me.

Our girl is simple in her desires, and that’s something I’ve taken to heart. Every day, I make it a point to do something small, something thoughtful, to remind her how deeply she’s loved. Sure, we’ll still have our grand, extravagant moments—those big displays of affection that sweep her off her feet—but I’ve learned that it’s the everyday gestures that mean the most to her. Whether it’s bringing her coffee in the morning, leaving little notes in places where I know she’ll find them, or planning a quiet evening at home just for the two of us, I do everything I can to make her feel cherished.

The sound of Jacob’s cry interrupts my thoughts, pulling me out of my reverie. I set the book down, ready to get up and feed him, but Blake beats me to it.

“I’ve got him,” Blake says as he walks over to the crib, gently lifting our son into his arms. There’s a softness in his voice that never fails to make me smile.

Jacob’s name had been a suggestion from Dhalia, and it immediately felt right. When we asked her why Jacob, she laughed and pointed out something we hadn’t noticed—it contains all three of our initials. J for Jax, C for Chase, and B for Blake. It was one of those serendipitous moments that made us realise the name was perfect, and none of us could argue with it.

Blake settles down in the chair, cradling Jacob as he starts feeding him. It’s a sight that still takes my breath away. So much has changed in such a short amount of time, and I often find myself reflecting on just how far we’ve come. I thought I knew what love was when it was just me, Chase, and Blake. But then Dhalia came into our lives, and everything shifted. I love her in the same way I love them, but there’s something deeper, something more powerful that ties me to her.

And then there’s Jacob. Watching Dhalia’s belly grow with each passing month, feeling those tiny kicks, talking to him even before he was born—I didn’t think it was possible to love someone as much as I love him. It’s a love that’s fierce, protective, all-consuming. I know that if anyone ever tried to harm him, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep him safe. I’d burn the world down for him without a second thought.

I remember the day he was born with a clarity that feels almost surreal. We had everything prepared—a room set up at home with all the necessary medical equipment, on-call doctors, nurses, midwives, everything we could possibly need. When Jacob finally arrived, the world seemed to stop for a moment as he was placed in Dhalia’s arms. She held him so close, like she was afraid to ever let him go, and I could see the instant bond they shared. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed, and I found myself reaching for the camera to capture every second of it.

Looking back at those photos now, the emotions come rushing back, but they’re never as intense as they were in that moment. I know I’m obsessing, but I can’t help it. I want to hold on to every memory, every fleeting second, because I know how precious they are.

“I’ve finished my work,” Blake says, breaking through my thoughts once again. “So get yours done and I’ll keep Jacob with me.” He walks over and gently takes Jacob from my arms. I hesitate for a moment, reluctant to let go, but I know he’s right. I’ve been neglecting my own work, too distracted by everything that’s been going on.

“Office, Jax,” Blake insists with a smile. “Then you’re not sat here watching him and constantly checking. In your office and focus.”

He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my neck before walking away with Jacob in his arms. It’s hard to let go, but I know I have to. Blake is right—I need to focus. I head to my office, the weight of responsibility settling on my shoulders. But even as I sit down at my desk, I can’t help but think about Dhalia, Blake, Chase, and Jacob. They’re my family, my world, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them.

I see Jacob and there's an urge to have another baby, Dhalia thinks I'm crazy, he's not even a month old. I'm not though, there's no way to replicate that moment she gave birth, those first moments of her holding the baby without her getting pregnant.

Call me crazy but I plan to get her pregnant, again, and again, and again. She may hate me for it, but I will love the moment just as much as the last everytime the baby is placed on her chest.

As I start to work, my thoughts drift back to the book I’d been reading earlier. Those marked pages, the glimpses into Dhalia’s heart, remind me that love isn’t about grand gestures or expensive gifts. It’s about the small, everyday things—the moments that might seem insignificant to others but mean everything to the person you love.

With that in mind, I open my laptop and start planning. Not the next big surprise or a lavish date night, but something simple, something meaningful. Maybe a quiet evening in, just the two of us, where we can relax, talk, and enjoy each other’s company. Because I know now, more than ever, that it’s those moments that will truly make her feel loved.

And that’s all I’ve ever wanted—to make sure she knows, without a doubt, how much she means to me. How much they all mean to me.

The last few months have been a whirlwind, a mental and emotional gauntlet that none of us expected. It wasn’t the physical demands that took their toll on me—it was the psychological strain, the constant push and pull of trying to navigate our lives while Chase and Jax became increasingly overprotective of Dhalia. My attempts to ground them in reality often felt futile, like trying to anchor a ship in the middle of a storm.

Dhalia, poor Dhalia, bore the brunt of their overzealous protection. At five months pregnant, they decided it was too dangerous for her to continue working. Mind you, her job was sitting in a cozy little bookstore, reading and managing sales. There wasn’t anything remotely strenuous about it, but they convinced themselves—and her—that it was unsafe. It seemed harmless enough at first, just a precaution. But by the time she hit seven months, their obsession to shield her and the baby from every possible harm became all-consuming.

They wouldn’t let her go out without one of us by her side, and even then, only to places deemed “safe”—which basically meant nowhere crowded, nowhere unfamiliar, and nowhere that didn’t have an easy exit. She was practically under house arrest, forced into a kind of hibernation for the remainder of her pregnancy. I thought once she gave birth, they’d finally relax. But I was wrong.

For two weeks after Jacob was born, they insisted on bed rest for Dhalia. She wasn’t even allowed to pour herself a cup of coffee, let alone leave the house. Now, a month after Jacob’s birth, they’ve finally allowed her some freedom—though they had little choice in the matter. She needed new clothes. None of her old clothes fit, and the excessive morning sickness during her pregnancy had caused her to lose weight, leaving her smaller than before. Where she had once been a size sixteen, she was now closer to a twelve.

As I watch Jacob drink his milk, I’m struck by how strange it all is. We’ve all come from such dark, broken backgrounds, each of us carrying the scars of bad childhoods. In many ways, we’re like a puzzle made up of mismatched pieces forced together. It’s those very experiences, though, that drive us to make sure Jacob never goes through anything like we did. He’ll never feel abandoned, never have to scrounge for food, never know what it’s like to be truly alone.

Chase has already made it clear that he’s committed to being the kind of father who is always there for Jacob, no matter what. He’s promised to create an environment where Jacob can talk about anything—no matter how extreme or unconventional it might be. Chase has vowed to accept Jacob for who he is, whoever he grows up to be, and to love him unconditionally.

It’s moments like these that I can’t help but think about my own parents. People expect me to hate them, to resent them for the neglect and the pain they caused. But I can’t. After battling my own demons with addiction, I’ve come to understand how it can consume a person, how it can turn someone into a shadow of who they once were. Still, even with that understanding, I know deep down that I could never abandon Jacob the way my parents abandoned me. The need to protect him, to ensure he’s safe and loved, is too strong.

As I sit there, cradling Jacob in my arms, I notice that everyone seems to have settled into their new roles—except for Jax. He’s happy, of course, but there’s something in his eyes that tells me he’s already thinking about the next step. He’s barely able to conceal his desire for another baby, and it’s crazy to think about it. Jacob is only a month old, and already Jax is eager to see Dhalia pregnant again.

Don’t get me wrong, we all loved watching her belly grow, feeling the baby kick, talking to him as if he could hear us. But for Jax, it was more than just excitement—it was an obsession. He was infatuated with every change in Dhalia’s body, turning it into some kind of fixation. We must have thousands of pictures of her during the pregnancy because he couldn’t resist documenting every moment. I found it a bit strange, to be honest, how turned on he was by her pregnant body, but hey, to each their own.

Dhalia has already mentioned going back on the pill, much to Jax’s disappointment. But knowing him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to talk her out of it.

I look up to see Chase and Dhalia walking into the room. She’s carrying a few shopping bags, having just returned from her first real outing since Jacob was born.

“How has he been?” Chase asks, reaching out to take Jacob from my arms. I can’t help but laugh at his concern.

“He’s fine, Chase. Stop worrying,” I reply, shaking my head. You’d think he expected us to throw a party and forget all about Jacob.

“Well, neither of you answered your messages,” Chase says, a hint of irritation in his voice as he glances at me.

“No, because you were supposed to be focusing on Dhalia, not constantly checking up on us,” I counter. “It’s been two hours, man.”

“Whatever. I just wanted to make sure he was okay.” Chase sits down with Jacob, the concern in his eyes still evident.

“If he wasn’t, we would have called you. We’re not incompetent, Chase. You don’t need to check up on us every minute,” I say, rolling my eyes at him.

“I never thought you were incompetent,” Chase replies, his tone softening. “It’s not about that. I know you both are more than capable of watching him.” He leans over and kisses me, a gesture of reassurance.

“Still, we need to make sure we get out more before Jax gets her pregnant again,” I mutter, half-joking, but Chase bursts out laughing.

“He’s got a new obsession,” Chase shrugs, as if it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

An obsession is one thing, but whatever Jax is feeling goes beyond that. “We all felt the baby kick and talked to him, but Jax... he was on another level. We’ve got thousands of pictures of Dhalia while she was pregnant.”

“If it makes him happy, let him be,” Chase says with a casual shrug. And he’s right—it’s Dhalia’s choice if she wants to have another baby so soon.

Still, to me, it would be crazy. Jacob is only a month old. We could all use some time to settle into this new chapter before thinking about expanding the family again. That said, I wouldn’t be opposed to it. The entire process—the pregnancy, the birth—was beautiful. There was something about it that felt right, something that pulled us all closer together.

As I sit there, watching Jacob in Chase’s arms, I can’t help but feel like our family is complete. Sure, we could grow it, add more to it, but in this moment, it feels perfect. Having Jacob was like finding the missing piece of a puzzle. He’s connected us in ways I never imagined, made us stronger as a unit.

We’ve managed to find a routine that allows us to spend time together, both as a group and individually. It’s a bit chaotic right now with Jacob being so young, but it’s our chaos, and it feels right. It feels like home.

I watched Dhalia as she moved through the store, her steps light and full of purpose, and it hit me—I might have gone too far. In our well-intentioned but overzealous efforts to protect her and Jacob, Jax and I had smothered her. When I casually mentioned the idea of going shopping, I expected a discussion, maybe some hesitation. But instead, she practically bolted for the door, grabbing her coat and leaving without a word. That was proof enough. We had suffocated her under the guise of safety and care.

Seeing her so happy to be out, to be free to do something as simple as shopping, was a wake-up call. We had reduced her life to the confines of our home, restricting her to the roles of mother and partner, leaving little room for her to just be herself. That’s why I suggested she could return to work if she wanted to. Jax may not like the idea—he’s still riding the wave of his overprotectiveness—but after more than six months of keeping her tethered, it’s time we give her back some freedom.

To my surprise, she didn’t jump at the opportunity. Instead, she said she needed to think about it. Her hesitation caught me off guard. I had expected enthusiasm, a sense of relief, but her response made me realise that our actions had taken a deeper toll than I’d imagined. While we were out, I found myself compulsively checking my phone, shooting off messages to Blake and Jax to see how Jacob was doing. Neither of them replied, which only added to my frustration.

Sick For Them Pt24 Final

MMMF Dark Romance

Jax POV



As I sit on the couch, the book resting on my lap, I find myself absorbed not so much in the story itself but in the little marks I’ve made throughout its pages. These marks have become something of an obsession for me. They’re the places where I’ve seen Dhalia react—whether it’s a quiet gasp, a tear rolling down her cheek, or that subtle squirm of excitement that she can’t quite hide. Whenever she reads with me in the room, and I catch one of those reactions, I make sure to mark the page number. Later, when she’s done, I go back and read those specific sections, trying to decode what it is about these words that stirs something inside her.



Sick For Them Pt24 Final

MMMF Dark Romance

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Sick For Them Pt 23

Sick For Them Pt24 Final

MMMF Dark Romance

This is an Exclusive Story for supporters of .css-13w9qce-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-accent);}Author Billiejo Priestley

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Author Billiejo Priestley

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Sick For Them Pt 23

This is an Exclusive Story for supporters of Author Billiejo Priestley