The Truth About Teresa
1467 Words
Chapter 16 — The Truth About Teresa
Jake remained unusually quiet after Amara bandaged his hand.
The tension inside the office had changed again.
Softer now.
But somehow heavier too.
Amara carefully placed the first aid kit aside before stepping back slightly.
“There,” she said quietly. “Try not to punch anything else today.”
Jake looked down at the bandage around his knuckles.
Then at her.
“You act like this is normal.”
“What?”
“Taking care of people who don’t deserve it.”
Amara crossed her arms lightly.
“That depends on whether they’re trying to change.”
Jake laughed softly without humor.
“And you think I am?”
“I think you’re fighting yourself constantly.”
Silence.
His eyes held hers longer than necessary again.
Then suddenly a knock interrupted them.
Jake’s assistant stepped inside nervously holding a tablet.
“Sir… there’s another problem.”
Jake’s expression immediately hardened.
“Today just keeps improving.”
The assistant swallowed carefully.
“It’s online.”
He handed Jake the tablet.
Amara noticed the exact moment Jake’s body stiffened.
Something dark crossed his face instantly.
“What?” she asked carefully.
Jake didn’t answer.
He simply handed her the tablet instead.
Amara looked down.
And felt her stomach drop.
A news article filled the screen.
Woman Linked to Jake Henry Reportedly Fled Cape Town After Alleged Abuse
Underneath sat an old blurry photograph of Teresa entering an airport months ago.
Amara’s chest tightened immediately.
The article included anonymous claims describing Jake as violent, obsessive, dangerous.
Her hands slowly lowered.
Silence filled the office heavily.
Jake looked away toward the windows.
“She sold the story,” he muttered coldly.
Amara looked back at the article.
Not all details were public.
But enough were there.
Enough to make her heart sink.
“She ran away from you,” Amara whispered.
Jake’s jaw tightened instantly.
“Yes.”
Silence.
Painfully thick silence.
Amara suddenly remembered every warning sign she ignored.
The anger.
The control.
The fear hidden beneath his ex-girlfriend’s voice yesterday.
Her pulse quickened slightly.
Jake noticed immediately.
And somehow—
That hurt more than the article itself.
“There it is,” he said quietly.
Amara frowned.
“What?”
“That look.”
His voice sounded tired now.
“Like you finally see me clearly.”
Amara looked down briefly.
Because honestly—
She didn’t know what she saw anymore.
Jake stood and walked toward the window slowly.
“I never forced her to stay,” he said quietly.
Amara remained silent.
“I never locked her away.”
Still silence.
Jake laughed bitterly.
“That doesn’t make me innocent though, does it?”
The honesty in his voice unsettled her deeply.
“Jake…”
“I hurt her.” He finally turned around. “Maybe not the way these articles describe, but enough.”
Amara’s chest tightened painfully.
There it was.
The truth she didn’t want confirmed.
Jake noticed the disappointment flicker across her face.
And something inside him twisted hard.
“I told you before,” he said quietly, “people leave once they see too much.”
Amara looked at him carefully now.
Not with fear.
Not exactly.
More like heartbreak mixed with confusion.
“You abused her,” she whispered.
Jake closed his eyes briefly.
The word sounded uglier out loud.
Real.
Heavy.
“Yes.”
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Amara stepped back unconsciously.
Jake noticed that too.
And accepted it.
“You should hate me now,” he muttered.
Amara looked away.
Because part of her wanted to.
Another part wanted to understand.
And that conflict terrified her.
“How could you hurt someone you cared about?” she asked softly.
Jake’s laugh carried no humor at all.
“Easy.” His eyes darkened painfully. “You destroy everything once anger becomes the only language you understand.”
Silence again.
Amara’s thoughts felt chaotic.
She believed people could change.
But this…
This was serious.
Real damage.
Real violence.
And yet Jake stood in front of her looking less like a monster and more like a man drowning in his own guilt.
That was the dangerous part.
Monsters were easy to leave.
Broken people weren’t.
“I never meant to become that person,” Jake said quietly.
Amara’s eyes lifted slowly toward him.
“When did it start?”
Jake leaned against the desk heavily.
“After my mother died.” He rubbed his jaw tiredly. “At first it was just anger. Fighting. Losing control.” His voice lowered slightly. “Then eventually relationships became wars too.”
Amara listened silently.
“I hated being ignored.” Jake laughed bitterly. “Hated feeling abandoned.” His eyes hardened at himself now. “So I controlled everything instead.”
The self-awareness in his voice hurt somehow.
Because he understood exactly what he’d done.
“You scared her,” Amara whispered.
Jake looked away again.
“Yes.”
Silence settled heavily between them.
Outside the office windows, clouds moved slowly across the city skyline.
The entire world suddenly felt gray.
Finally Amara spoke again.
“Did you ever apologize?”
Jake frowned slightly.
“To Teresa?”
“Yes.”
He looked genuinely conflicted now.
“No.”
Amara stared at him in disbelief.
“Why not?”
“Because she disappeared before I could.”
The answer sounded honest.
Still—
“You searched for her.”
Jake nodded once.
“At first because I was angry.” His jaw tightened slightly. “Then because I realized what I’d done.”
Amara crossed her arms protectively now.
“And what exactly did you do?”
Jake went silent.
Too silent.
Fear crawled slowly into her chest.
“Jake.”
His eyes met hers again.
And for the first time since she met him—
She saw shame completely unguarded there.
“I hit her.”
The words shattered through the room quietly.
Amara’s breath caught.
Even though she already suspected it…
Hearing him say it directly felt different.
Real.
Jake immediately looked away again.
“I told myself it only happened when I lost control.” His voice turned bitter. “Like that somehow made it better.”
Amara couldn’t speak for several seconds.
Her emotions tangled painfully together.
Disgust.
Sadness.
Disappointment.
And somehow still—
Concern.
Because Jake didn’t sound proud or defensive.
He sounded destroyed by himself.
“I should go,” Amara whispered finally.
Jake nodded immediately.
“Yes.”
No argument.
No manipulation.
Just acceptance.
Amara grabbed her bag slowly while her thoughts spun wildly.
Before reaching the door, she paused briefly.
Then asked quietly:
“Have you hurt anyone since Teresa?”
Jake answered instantly.
“No.”
She turned back toward him carefully.
“Why?”
Jake’s expression softened into something painfully honest.
“Because seeing fear in her eyes made me hate myself.”
Silence.
Amara stared at him for a long moment.
Then finally left the office without another word.
The moment the door closed behind her, Jake sank heavily into the chair.
Empty.
That familiar emptiness returned fast.
Of course it did.
This was always how things ended.
People saw the truth.
Then they left.
And honestly—
Maybe they should.
Meanwhile, Amara walked through the building in a daze.
The article still burned inside her thoughts.
He hit her.
No matter how complicated Jake seemed now…
No matter how broken or remorseful…
That fact remained.
By the time she reached the parking garage, her chest felt painfully tight.
“Amara!”
She turned sharply.
Mr Henry hurried toward her looking concerned.
“I heard about the article.”
Amara looked exhausted already.
“You knew.”
It wasn’t a question.
Mr Henry’s expression fell slightly.
“Yes.”
Anger flickered through her immediately.
“You knew your son abused women and still tried finding him a wife?”
Mr Henry closed his eyes briefly.
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“No,” Amara snapped softly. “Actually it’s not.”
Pain crossed the older man’s face.
“You think I haven’t spent years regretting my failures with him?”
Amara remained silent.
Mr Henry sighed heavily.
“Jake wasn’t always like this.”
“That doesn’t excuse anything.”
“I know.”
His voice broke slightly.
“I know.”
The sadness there felt genuine too.
God.
Everything about this family felt tragic.
“He needs help,” Amara whispered.
Mr Henry nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
Silence settled between them.
Then he asked carefully:
“Are you afraid of him?”
Amara thought about it honestly.
The answer surprised even her.
“No.”
Confused?
Yes.
Hurt?
Definitely.
But afraid?
No.
And somehow that realization felt more dangerous than anything else.
- Writer
