“Don’t touch me! Don’t—!”
Her voice is cracked wide open, like something inside her broke and never healed.
I freeze, my hands in the air. My heart’s going a thousand miles a minute, but I force myself to keep my voice soft, steady, safe.
“Ava. It’s me. It’s Elijah. You’re safe. You’re home.”
She’s not breathing right. Her eyes are wild—searching the corners of the room like he might still be here, hiding in the dark. She’s caught between two worlds: the memory, and now.
I watch her come back inch by inch. Her eyes land on mine—and I see it. That tiny flicker of recognition. And then she breaks.
She folds in on herself and sobs—like something deep in her has shattered, and this is the sound it makes. I move toward her, slow, and when she doesn’t pull away, I pull her into me.
She collapses against my chest. Shaking. Crying so hard it feels like she might come apart.
“He said you’d leave me,” she whispers, voice barely there.
My jaw clenches. I press my hand to the back of her head, the other around her spine, holding her together because right now, I’m not sure she can do it on her own.
But then her voice breaks again—quieter, rawer. Almost like she doesn’t want me to hear it, but needs to say it.
“He told me I’m worthless. That you’d end up getting tired of me, like he did. That a man like you would never stay with a woman like me.”
She pulls in a shaky breath, not looking at me.
“And I know you always tell me you’ll never leave. That you love me. But a small part of me believed him… and now it’s the one screaming the loudest inside my head.”
Her whole body tenses against mine.
“I’m trying, I promise, I am—but it’s stronger than me.”
God. It guts me. I tighten my arms around her, grounding both of us.
“I know, baby girl, I know. But… don’t you dare believe that. Not even for a second,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “That voice in your head? That’s his poison. Not truth. You’re not too much, and I’m not going anywhere.”
I pause, jaw clenched so hard it aches.
If I could kill him again, I’d do it a million times over,just to make him pay for all the damage he’s done to this sweet woman. Ava didn’t deserve to suffer this—any of it. Not the fear. Not the doubt. Not the slow erosion of her self-worth. He was the monster who broke her spirit… and I was the idiot who didn’t know how to protect her.
I pull her closer.
“You’re the best thing in my life. And I’m gonna keep showing you until that voice in your head shuts the hell up.” I say.
I kiss her hair. She doesn’t stop crying. And I don’t stop holding her.
“I’m still here, Ava. I’m still yours. I’m not leaving. I don’t care how dark it gets—I’m staying.”
She grips my shirt in both fists, like she’s afraid I’ll vanish if she lets go. Her whole body is trembling against mine.
And God, I hate this.
I hate that I can’t fix it. I hate that she still hears his voice in the dark when she should only ever feel safe in my arms.
Hate that a few fucking hours with that monster did this to her—and no matter what I say, part of her believes him more than me.
I hold her tighter.
“You’re not broken,” I whisper, because I know she thinks she is. “You’re hurt. And healing. And I love you. You hear me? I love you.”
