He Said Mine So I Took Him Instead

CHAPTER 6

Something was gently shaking me, like they were trying not to scare me too much, but it still wasn’t enough to pull me out of it. My head kept tipping side to side where it had fallen against my arm, like my body couldn’t decide if it wanted to stay asleep or come back.

I was slowly getting dragged back into awareness, out of that heavy, blurry nothingness that felt like the only place I could actually breathe. In there, I didn’t have to think. I didn’t have to feel. And most importantly… he couldn’t reach me.

It was weird, but it always felt like I was safest when I was completely out of it—like when I couldn’t even defend myself, nothing bad would happen.

“Esme…” a voice called softly.

Barely there. Like it was coming from somewhere far away and I had to reach for it just to hear it properly.

My whole body was shaking, and not because of whoever was touching my shoulder. I was still in the same soaked clothes I had run home in, and the fabric clung to me like a second skin I didn’t want. Everything was cold—painfully cold—like I couldn’t get warm no matter how still I stayed.

My teeth kept knocking together even though I was barely fully awake, and somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered if my lips had gone pale or even bluish from how frozen I felt.

I didn’t want to wake up.

Honestly, I just wanted to stay in that dark, quiet space where everything felt far away and nothing could hurt me for a little longer. But I already knew that wasn’t how it worked. I had to come back eventually.

Still… the hand on my shoulder kept insisting, shaking me a little harder now, like it wasn’t going to let me stay gone even if I wanted to.

I still wasn’t ready to open my eyes.

Not even close.

Because I didn’t know what I was going to see when I finally did. Part of me was scared it would all come rushing back at once, like I’d be forced to relive it again just by looking. The only thing I could think about was my mom.

Her face. The way she looked while he had his hand around my throat.

I’ve never seen her like that before… not like that. Completely frozen, terrified, like she didn’t even know what to do anymore. And I hated it, because she always tried to protect me when she could. I knew she was scared too, always walking on eggshells, always bracing herself for whatever might set him off next. Sometimes she tried to step in, but most of the time… there was only so much she could do.

Still, she was my mom.

My safe place. My protector. The one person who always tried, even when she was just as trapped as I was.

“Esme… come on, sweetie,” another shake came, a little firmer this time. “Wake up.”

My lashes fluttered weakly, like my body was finally giving up on staying somewhere in between.

And I knew that voice.

It pulled me back differently. Softer. Familiar in a way that made my chest tighten instead of panic.

My mom.

Slowly, the darkness started fading, dragging me back into reality whether I wanted it or not. Back into my room. Back into everything I had been trying not to face.

I was on the floor.

My body ached in places I didn’t even want to think about, and my throat felt raw like something had been wrapped around it for too long. I could already imagine the mark there—something shaped exactly like his hand, something I’d probably have to hide again.

I didn’t want to wake up.

But I also knew I couldn’t stay gone forever. Not when she needed me just as much as I needed her.

“Mom…” my voice came out cracked, barely there, like my throat refused to cooperate.

It sounded more like a broken whisper than an actual word.

“Oh, Mae…” she choked out, her voice shaking like she was holding back tears she couldn’t fully stop.

And that nickname… I used to hate it when I was older, but hearing it now just made something inside me twist. Like a reminder that she still saw me as her little girl, even now.

The thought of her crying because of me made my chest hurt more than anything else.

I forced my eyes open.

I was still in my room.

The only light came from the bedside lamp, casting this soft orange glow that made everything look calmer than it actually was. But then I saw them.

Suitcases.

Stacked on my bed like they didn’t belong there, like someone had already made a decision I wasn’t ready for yet.

I didn’t even know if my mom packed them while I was unconscious… or if they had already been there before everything happened.

That was when I finally forced myself to actually look around the room.

And what I saw didn’t make sense at first.

My eyes landed on my dresser… or where my dresser was supposed to be useful. The surface was completely empty, wiped clean like nothing had ever been placed there in the first place. All the usual little things I kept there—gone.

I turned my head slowly.

My wardrobe doors were wide open.

Empty.

Not just slightly cleared out… completely stripped. The space where my clothes used to hang was just bare, like it had never belonged to me at all. Even the floor inside was cleared—no shoes, no clutter, nothing.

My drawers were next.

Already pulled open.

Already empty.

It hit me a second later that my whole room wasn’t actually big or decorated or anything like that. It was simple. Bare bones. Just the essentials he thought I needed. A dresser, a set of drawers, a wardrobe, and a single bed shoved into the corner like it didn’t really matter.

But somehow… even with how empty it already was, it looked worse now.

Like someone had erased me out of it completely.

I stared at it, my chest tightening as my brain tried to catch up.

“What’s going on?” I finally asked, my voice coming out rough and broken, like I hadn’t used it in days.

It hurt to even speak properly. My throat still felt raw, like every word was scraping against something damaged inside. I already knew it would take time before I could sound normal again… if it even went back to normal at all.

Right now, talking just felt like dragging sandpaper through my throat.