Everything inside me went still. I watched her carefully, the way her voice shook, the way she stared at nothing while describing the wilderness, the guide, the waiting, the horror she’d been forced to hear. Each word made my stomach twist tighter. By the time she finished, tears were sliding down her cheeks again. I didn’t know what to say. What could you say to something like that? I moved closer and pulled her against me again. This time she came willingly, curling into my side like she didn’t have the strength to hold herself up.
“I’m so sorry,” I murmured into her hair.
Her voice broke. “I thought knowing would make it better.”
My chest ached. “Sometimes the truth just hurts.”
She shook her head. “I keep thinking about her being out there alone.”
I held her tighter as minutes passed in silence. The only sound was her breathing slowly evening out. My own heart was still pounding.
“You scared the hell out of me,” I admitted quietly.
She tilted her head up slightly. “I’m sorry.”
I brushed my thumb along her cheek. “I’m not mad. I’m just... worried about you.”
She closed her eyes. “I didn’t know where else to go,” she whispered.
That hit harder than anything else. I pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“You come here,” I said softly. “Always.”
Her fingers curled into my shirt again. For the first time since she came through the door, her body started to relax against mine. I stayed still, letting her settle against me. The tension slowly drained out of her body, like she’d been holding herself together by sheer force and finally didn’t have to anymore. I shifted slightly so she could lean more comfortably against my chest. My hand kept moving up and down her back without thinking.
“Have you eaten today?” I asked quietly.
She shook her head against me. Of course she hadn’t.
“Stay here,” I murmured.
Her fingers tightened immediately. “Don’t go.”
“I’m just getting you something,” I said softly. “I’ll be right back.”
I moved to the kitchen and grabbed water and whatever snacks I could find. When I came back, she was sitting exactlywhere I left her, blanket wrapped around her shoulders like armor.
I handed her the glass of club soda. “Drink.”
She drank it without arguing.
“Good,” I said. “Now eat something.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I don’t care,” I said gently. “A couple bites.”
She sighed but took the crackers. Watching her chew felt ridiculous and necessary at the same time. As if getting her to do normal things would anchor her back to reality. When she finished, I sat beside her again.
“You’re shaking,” I said.
“I can’t stop replaying it,” she whispered. “Everything he said.”
I pulled her closer. “It’s traumatic. What you’re feeling is normal, even if it’s terrifying.”
She leaned into me, exhausted. I brushed her hair back from her face. “Do you want a bath? Might help you relax a little.”
“Will you come with me?” she asked, sounding so vulnerable. So different from the happy girl I was used to.