Chapter 24
I closed Mochi’s cage. His feathers rustled in protest, but I latched it anyway. Better to keep him inside during a storm.
The air felt heavier than before—damp, charged. I took a slow breath, let it sit in my chest, then exhaled as I forced myself to move. The old floorboards creaked beneath me as I stepped downstairs to find Daniel.
He was in the library. A soft fire crackled in the fireplace. Orange light flickered across the walls and bookshelves. Both of his hands were in his hair, and his elbows were braced on his knees. He didn’t hear me right away.
It had hurt to see him so full of rage like that. I was still mad, and boundaries had to be set—this could never happen again. However, if we were going to heal, I had to meet him halfway. Compromise. Forgive.
“Daniel?”
His head shot up. His eyes locked on mine. “Emily.” He stood quickly. “I tried to talk to you, but I heard you on the phone with your mom, so I thought I’d give you space.”
“Did you hear the full conversation?”
“Just some of it. I’m...so sorry.” He shook his head, his lips parted like he had more to say but couldn’t figure out how. “How can I fix this?” he finally asked, his voice cracking. “I don’t want to fight anymore. If you really want to stay here, we will. But we have to talk about—”
His words failed him. His shoulders sagged.
I crossed the room and reached for his hand. The moment our skin touched, thunder rolled through the house—a low roarthat rattled the windows and echoed in my chest. The storm had worsened quickly.
We sat on the couch together.
“I need to fix this too,” I said quietly. “My mental health has taken over our relationship. Ever since we moved in together, it’s been all about me. It wasn’t fair to you, but you still stayed. You supported me. Nobody but you ever did that for me.”
“Emily,” he whispered. Then he sighed.
“I know the last few months have been brutal for you,” I continued. “And part of me just wants to keep lying to you about how bad I really got. But I can’t. If I want to get better, really get better, I have to be honest. I refuse to end up like my parents, living in denial, pretending nothing’s wrong. It destroyed everyone close to them, and I can’t do that to you.”
“Emily, I need to tell you some—”
“Please.” I looked at him. “Let me talk. It’s important.”
A tear spilled. I wiped it fast, not wanting to fall apart just yet.
“I think—” My voice caught. I had to start again. Calm myself. Find whatever strength I still had left. “I think there’s a woman in the basement.”
The words hung in the air.
“Because if there isn’t...” I held his gaze, though every part of me wanted to look away. My heart was thudding so hard, it felt like it might bruise my ribs. “Because if there isn’t, then it means I’m the one who hurt Rascal. And if that’s true, I need help. I need to check myself into a psych hospital for a while. To get better.”
The tears streamed freely now, warm and blinding. Daniel pulled me into his arms and held me tight. His scent hit me instantly: clean clothes, wood smoke, something uniquely him. The pressure of his hold made it hard to breathe, but in a strangeway, it calmed me. His body was a barrier keeping everything else out.
“You didn’t hurt Rascal,” he said, his voice breaking. “How could you even think that?” His arms tightened, as if letting go meant losing me for good.
I pulled back, needing to see his face. “I feel so lost,” I whispered through the tears. “So tired.”
“I know,” he murmured.
“I don’t even know who I am anymore. Or maybe I never did.”
“You’re my wife,” he said softly. “And I’m your husband. We’re family. That’s who we are.” A faint smile tugged at his lips. It offered a mix of sadness and hope.
Daniel brushed his thumb gently across my cheeks, wiping away the tears. His touch made everything ache worse and feel safer at the same time.
“We have each other, Emily. That’s more than a lot of people have. Even if we’ve both been through hell.”
I nodded. “Can you...” I had to swallow. “Can you come down to the basement with me?” It came out thin, almost a whisper. “I need you to do this for me. Please, Daniel.” My hand went to his cheek. “I don’t think I can take much more. I’m breaking. I’m talking to a woman in the basement that no one can convince me isn’t real. And then all these new flashbacks. My scar, me running in a storm like the one outside right now, with blood all over me. I swear this is the only thing I’ll ever ask of you. I swear it on my life. It’s not worth much right now, but still. I swear it on my life.”
