Jacob
I can see the turmoil in her eyes—her hesitation, the quiet war between wanting to trust me and being terrified of doing so. She’s wounded, and I’m trying to give her the space she needs to tell me what’s happened to her. But damn it, the thought that some asšhole is the cause of that pain—someone who’s never learned what it means to treat a woman with respect—eats at me.
I won’t pretend my upbringing was perfect. My mother, lost in her own chaos, and a father who disappeared long before I could learn anything from him. But what they didn’t teach me, the military did. It shaped me, taught me loyalty, and how to protect. And right now, I want to protect her. Even if I’m keeping my own skeletons locked tight, buried beneath layers of armor.
“Eat. Please,” I say, trying to keep my v
