And somehow it smells like coffee, fresh bread, and cedar instead of bleach and fear.
If I leave a mug in the sink, nobody punches me.
If I leave a towel on the bathroom floor, nobody kicks me in the ribs.
My stomach tightens. The memories hit fast and sharp, leaving a cold ache behind.
CJ cooks because he genuinely enjoys it. According to him, feeding people is relaxing.
So I let him.
It still feels fragile, though. Like this life could shatter if I breathe too hard.
My chest tightens. I move carefully, afraid even the smallest misstep will break the quiet I’ve found.
Like one wrong move will bring back the fists… the boots… the fear, I remind myself I’m safe, and I say it over and over. Most days, I even believe it. That might be the scariest part. Believing things can stay good.
Hope feels dangerous. It’s something that could be ripped away without warning.
I arrive in the kitchen where CJ greets me with a smile.
“Good.” He glances up from his coffee. “You’re awake.”
“Okay?”
“Let’s go.”
My pulse jumps. His certainty steadies me and unsettles me at the same time.
“That suspiciously sounds like I don’t have a choice, CJ.”
He just looks at me. And that makes me feel uncomfortable. But there is no threat there, just steady certainty.
“Okay.”
CJ’s gaze holds for a second longer, then he turns toward the front door, grabbing our jackets and hats. Putting mine on, I follow him out of the door.
The wind hits me as it always does. Cold, clean. Sharp enough to make me pull the jacket tighter around me. CJ walks half a step ahead of me. Not rushing, just leading?
I stay half a step behind him with my shoulder slightly behind his. I don’t even choose the position anymore. My body does. Adrian insisted I stay half a step behind him, always where he could see me. Even now, my body slips into that position without thinking.
Shame burns low in my stomach. I hate how automatic it is.
CJ doesn’t comment, just continues walking down the footpath. The heaviness settles deeper with every step. By the time we’ve crossed two streets, getting out of bed already feels like a mistake.
CJ suddenly stops and turns slightly to look at me. “You’re quiet this morning.”
I let out a short breath of a laugh. “Depends on who I’m with.”
That earned me a frown. “What does that mean?”
I hesitate. I don’t actually know, so I just shrug. “Some people make noise easier.”
CJ doesn’t respond, but I feel it anyway. The silence has weight now. Had I said something that upset him? I continued to walk behind CJ and turn my head slightly to look over the water. It’s safer to look at that right now.
I step behind CJ further when someone brushes hard against my shoulder.
Too close.
