Her Trauma, His Redemption

Chapter 17:The quiet he left behind

Jake had gone quiet, not angry, not cruel. Just...distant.

Tiana had noticed it in smaller ways, the ones that hurt the most. The way his answers are shortened. The way he avoided sitting beside her unless necessary. The way his eyes still followed her, always but never stayed long enough to rest.

It was worse than shouting, worse than him rejecting her out loud.

Because silence gave her room to imagine. Room to think, for the demons that lurked at the deepest part of her mind to reign, shun her, degrade her until she had nothing left but tears, fear, and the feeling of unworthiness.

She sat by the window that afternoon, knees pulled to her chest, watching the sunlight slide across the floor.

She tried to read, but the words blurred together as her mind swirled. Her mind refused to stay still.

I asked too much.

The thought settled into her bones like cold.

She hadn't meant to push. She only knew that when she'd thought about a future, any future, even the little she had, Jake was the only face that felt real. The only name that didn't scare her. But now she thinks that maybe it was a mistake, maybe it had been too soon, maybe she had gotten ahead of herself, maybe he just didn't see himself with her.

Maybe she had been selfish to not even ask if that was what he wanted, if he even wanted her that is.

She pressed her fingers into the fabric of her sweater, grounding herself, counting her breaths the way Marco had taught her at the hospital.

In.

Out.

He didn't say no, she reminded herself.

But he hadn't said yes either, and the space between those answers was killing her. It felt like a cliff, and she was hanging on it.

Her mind turned traitor, voices, whispering things she'd worked so hard over the past three years to unlearn.

You're damaged.

You cling to people because you're afraid to be alone.

You don't know the difference between love and safety.

Jake had been her anchor. She would picture him, and the voices would dull. But all she could think about now was the fact that he didn't want her.

Maybe he saw it now. Maybe her proposal had been a mirror he hadn't wanted to look into. Maybe he realised she didn't want him, she wanted escape, shelter, something solid to hold onto when the world shook.

The thought made her chest ache.

She imagined how she must look in his eyes. A girl, broken, fragile, still shaking from nightmares, flinching at raised voices.

A responsibility, a weight, a reminder of all the things he couldn't fix.

Why would a man like Jake-strong, feared, controlled, and powerful, choose a woman like her? A woman who still sleeps on the floor some nights.

Her throat tightened.

Jake would never choose her.

Not a woman like her, damaged, broken, and traumatised, he could have any woman he wanted, so why would he go for someone like her?

Her eyes watered.

She told herself she wouldn't cry. She was tired of crying. But tears slide down her cheeks anyway, silent and humiliating.

God, what had she turned herself into?

This was why she chose not to have that surgery anyway.

She was tired of feeling, living. Everything hurt.

And now the only light she had didn't want her.

She wiped her tears quickly, like someone might catch her in the act. She didn't want to be a burden to him.

That had become her quiet rule, take up as little space as possible.

She started doing small things without asking, folding laundry, straightening rooms that didn't need straightening, staying out of his way. When he entered a room, she found reasons to leave it. Not because she didn't want him but because she didn't want to remind him.

The distance hurt more at night. He got her a make-shift bed she could fold herself into at the corner far away from the bed. Sometimes, she just slept on the couch but mostly, the cold floor felt better.

She would lie awake listening for his footsteps, the familiar rhythm of his movement through the house.

Sometimes he stopped outside her door. She could feel it, his presence lingering like a held breath. But he never came in.

Her chest rose, then fell again.

He is giving you space, she told herself. This is good. But it didn't feel good. It felt like she was being slowly erased. He was punishing her most cruelly.

The distance hurt like a blade to her chest.

She turned on her side, clutching the blanket to her chest.

She stared out of the window. The large garden, the guards that moved like they were ghosts.

She had thought about leaving, thinking that all this had been nothing but a dream. But leaving Jake was like leaving her heart behind.

Did I imagine everything?

Did I mistake kindness for love?

The question gnawed at her.

She replayed the moment she'd asked him to marry her, how her voice had shaken, how her heart had nearly stopped waiting for his reaction.

At the time, it had felt brave, right.

Now it felt reckless like a hole she had dug and couldn't come out of.

Maybe she had crossed an invisible line. Maybe she'd reached for something she wasn't meant to have yet. Or never.

Her thoughts drifted to her past, the men, and her father. Those who only wanted her when she was silent, obedient, grateful for scraps of attention, but still enjoyed her tears. Men who withdrew affection the moment she asked for anything more.

The pattern felt familiar, terrifying, and never-ending.

She curled herself tighter, wrapping her arms around herself as she could physically hold the pieces together.

If he leaves, she thought, panic fluttering dangerously close, I don't know if I'll survive it.

Not because she needed him to exist, but because she had finally believed she was safe. Finally let herself imagine a life that wasn't just survival.

Losing that hope would hurt worse than any bruise, any fists any unwanted touch. It would literally kill her.

She closed her eyes, breathing slowly, forcing the spiral to stop.

He hasn't rejected you, she reminded herself gently. He's scared. Just like you.

That thought helped, just a little.

She whispered his name into the empty room, not calling, not asking. Just saying it like a prayer.

"Jake..."

She didn't know what tomorrow would bring. She didn't know if she'd crossed a line she couldn't come back from.

All she knew was, she loved him, not because he was safe, not because he protected her. But because when she was with him she felt seen- scars and all.

And if loving him meant waiting in silence a little longer... then she would wait.