I splash water on my face and head to my room. I grab track pants, a T-shirt, my hoodie, and my fluffy duck socks.
What? Marge bought them for me. There’s no judging duck socks.
I remember her voice clearly:“You’re going to need these. It gets cold.”
I glance at the rain hammering against the windows. God, I miss her and Ree. Maybe I’ll see them again one day. I hope they’re okay.
When I walk into the kitchen, Deck and Finn are already there, coffee in hand, like they don’t have their own places.
The second Finn sees me, he stands and pulls me into a hug. I hug him back without speaking, and when he eventually lets go, he studies my face.
I drop my eyes. “Nightmare,” I whisper.
“Eli, no excuses,” he says softly. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
He hooks his arm through mine and guides me toward the table. CJ has already set a plate in front of my chair. Yes, I have a chair now. Eggs, bacon, and hash browns fill the plate, and I look at him. “You’re expecting me to eat all this?”
“Yep,” CJ says. “Last time you ate was yesterday afternoon, and that was half a muffin.”
I pick up my fork and force a bite. My stomach twists, but I swallow it down. Finn sets a coffee in front of me, and I drink half of it immediately.
My chest feels tight, my eyes burning. I stare at my hands and notice they’re shaking, my fingers locked together so tightly my knuckles are white. My breath stutters as panic sits heavy under my skin, waiting to break loose.
Finn’s hands cover mine. “Eli, don’t,” he says softly.
I look up with tears in my eyes.
“You’re safe,” his thumb brushes my knuckles. “My Lumberjack and your Sunshine will keep you safe.”
I blink. “Your Lumberjack?”
I glance at Deck. He’s at the counter, suddenly very interested in his coffee and avoiding my eyes completely. A small laugh escapes me. Even now, these three men make the world feel lighter.
I turn back to Finn. “We are definitely talking about that later.”
Finn grins. “You didn’t deny the ‘Sunshine’ part, though.”
I shake my head, but I’m smiling. Because yeah, I’ve said it to Finn, just never to CJ. Not out loud.
CJ rinses his mug and turns to me. “Eli, I’ll grab my laptop. We need to talk about Adrian. About yesterday, and what we do next.”
I nod, but my feet don’t want to move. I force myself to walk over and sit on the couch, my plate of food left on the counter, untouched. I want to eat, and I know I should, but my stomach twists painfully. Fear steals every bit of appetite I have.
CJ sits beside me and opens his laptop.
This is it again: this is when I have to tell my story again, only now I’m not alone in it. But I can already hear the questions:Why didn’t you leave? Why did you stay? Why did you let it happen?
I’ve heard them before. I’ve asked them myself. The cruelest one always comes last:Why didn’t you leave?
People don’t understand. You don’t choose to stay; you survive it.
“Eli,” CJ’s voice pulls me back. “Baby, look at me.”
I turn my head slowly toward him.
“You don’t have to tell them anything,” he says.
I stare at him.
