Chapter 30
Milow
I’d fallen asleep not long after coming up to my room.
My mind had been exhausted from everything I’d learned today, and my body had followed.
I hadn’t fought it. The few hours of sleep I got had been deep, and when I woke up, I wasn’t tired anymore.
The clock told me it was past midnight. Sleep wouldn’t come easily anymore. Not with how much my mind buzzed.
I lay on my back and stared up at the dark ceiling.
After a few minutes, I reached for the book I’d been reading.
I turned on the lamp and tried to focus, hoping the story would pull me in enough to let me forget about reality, or at least pull me back into sleep.
I wanted my eyes to get heavy again, and I wanted my thoughts to quiet down.
But it didn’t work.
The words on the page didn’t make sense in my mind, and I read the same sentence over and over without absorbing any of it. My mind kept drifting and dragging me back to everything I didn’t want to think about, and I couldn’t escape. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shut it out.
Today, I learned the truth. Not the version I’d been fed as a child.
Not the lie crafted by the man who was supposed to protect me and instead became my abuser.
Deep down, I had always known I couldn’t use my voice ever again.
That knowledge had lived somewhere, buried deep, and was pushing its way out at the most convenient time.
The nightmares I’d had over the years hadn’t been dreams. They’d been on my mind, trying to tell me what my conscious self wasn’t ready to face.
But I’d been a child. I’d been na?ve enough to believe in the story I’d been given.
I’d believed that something magical had taken my voice away because I’d been good and obedient.
Now I knew the truth.
And the strangest part was that it didn’t hurt the way I’d expected it to. Losing my voice itself wasn’t the deepest pain. I’d already lived with that reality. I’d adapted to it, and I’d survived without it all these years.
What broke me was knowing why.
My own father had taken it from me to silence me. He had done it so I couldn’t call for help and couldn’t scream to get an outsider’s attention when he abused me.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to suppress the memories of when I was just a child, but they still surged forward anyway.
All the nights in his bedroom.
The weight of his body over mine.
The way my body had frozen while my mind begged for an escape I knew I didn’t have.
I tried to breathe, but my lungs wouldn’t fill properly, and only when he let me go was I able to breathe.
I sat up abruptly and pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs and resting my chin against them. I focused on my breathing.
I let the quiet voice inside my head speak. To remind myself where I was and that I was safe in this house. I wasn’t trapped like I once had been, and I had parents who loved me. Parents who had chosen me and protected me in every way they knew how.
I wasn’t angry with them for not telling me the truth sooner.
I understood why they hadn’t. They’d wanted to shield me from it and to give me a childhood that wasn’t defined by what had been done to me.
And honestly, I didn’t think knowing earlier would have changed anything. I hadn’t been ready then.
Maybe I was only just ready now.
I turned my head toward the door. My heart was pulling me toward Ashby on the other side of the hall.
He was probably asleep, and I didn’t want to wake him just so he could see me like this.
I was restless, anxious, and barely holding myself together.
But maybe he was already deep under, and maybe I could slip into his room the way I had so many times before.
I would be quiet and careful, and I’d crawl into his bed without waking him at all.
Just the thought of being next to him calmed me, and the urge to go was now too strong to ignore.
I pushed myself off the bed and padded to the door, opening it slowly so it wouldn’t creak.
It was dark out in the hallway, and I crossed it on bare feet with cautious steps.
My heart skipped a beat as I reached his door, and I paused there with my hand hovering over the handle. Then, I finally pushed the door open.
Just like I had expected, Ashby was asleep.
He was lying on his back, with his head turned toward the door, and the sight of him made something deep inside me tingle funnily.
I had felt that before, but I had always told myself not to let that exact feeling grow stronger.
Now… I didn’t feel like suppressing it, despite the line it would cross.
I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, moving closer until I stood beside his bed.
For a moment, I just watched him. His face was soft, but his thick brows were gently drawn together, as if he was thinking about something he didn’t like.
Maybe he was having a bad dream. I reached out before I could stop myself, my fingers brushing his hand where it rested on the mattress.
I caressed his palm, feeling just how warm his hand was compared to mine.
His fingers twitched, but he wasn’t waking up.
My eyes moved to the empty spot next to him.
I wanted to lie down right there and press my body against his.
I wanted to hear him breathe, and I wanted to put my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat.
His fingers suddenly curled around mine, and I looked at his face again, my eyes wide.
Ashby stirred and turned onto his side, his eyes opening slowly. Confusion flashed across his face, then relief came over him as he saw me.
“Milow?” he whispered. He tightened his grip on my hand and pushed himself up to sit. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head. I couldn’t lie to him.
His expression fell. Even in the dark, I could see the tears gather in his eyes.
He didn’t say anything else. He just reached for me and pulled me onto the bed with him.
He shifted back until he was leaning against the headboard, then wrapped his arms around me and drew me close.
I settled against his chest and closed my eyes.
His heartbeat was fast under my ear, and his body was tense, holding in too much.
It was quiet for a moment, but then his breathing changed. It caught in his throat, and his chest hitched beneath me.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so fucking sorry you went through that.”
His arms tightened in a desperate attempt to hold me even tighter. I wasn’t sure that was even possible, but this was okay for now. He was here with me, and his presence alone made me feel safe and protected.
His face pressed into my hair as his shoulders started to shake. He was crying, and at first, there were quiet sobs. But then they became louder, and everything he had been holding back was crashing down at once.
I quickly turned my head to look up at him. Tears were streaming down his face, and his breathing became an uncontrollable mess. I had never seen him like this. Not once had he cried in front of me.
I lifted my hand to brush his cheek, and I wiped at the tears that kept spilling over. My thumb traced his skin, trying to get him to calm down the same way he always calmed me down.
His eyes squeezed shut at my touch, and more sobs escaped him. It broke my heart into a million pieces, and the pain only got worse when I realized that he finally knew what had happened to me. He was hurting because of me.
Tears rolled down my face before I knew it, and I cried with him.
When he reopened his eyes and saw me crying in silence, something in him snapped completely.
His expression turned angry, but that anger wasn’t directed at me.
It never was. He shifted, and his strong hands moved with urgency as he lifted me and settled me fully into his lap.
He wrapped his arms around me tightly, with one hand cradling the back of my head, and pressing my face into his neck while the other locked around my back.
“I’m here,” he said again in a broken voice. “Whatever you need. Whenever you need me, I’m right here. Always, Milow.”
I didn’t need him to promise it. He had been proving it for years, long before tonight, and long before the truth came out and shattered everything. He had always shown up, mostly in quiet ways. But he did show up.
I looked at him through wet lashes and smiled softly, then I placed my hand flat against his chest, right over his heart, and curled my fingers into his shirt.
He exhaled slowly, and it seemed that my touch helped him breathe again. His arms tightened around me once more, reminding me of their protection. One hand slid up my back, moving in slow strokes, and his chin rested against the top of my head.
In the quiet, my body relaxed against his. Exhaustion was finally taking over. At some point, his head tilted to the side, resting fully against mine, but his arms stayed wrapped around me, holding me close as we both drifted off in that position.
Ashby
It was early in the morning when I woke up. My body was stiff and sore, but once I remembered last night, I didn’t care. I was still sitting upright with my back against the headboard, and with Milow curled up in my arms just like she had been hours ago. I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
I moved carefully, stretching my legs a little before pulling the blanket higher to cover her properly. Then I looked down at her and ran a hand gently through her hair. She was still asleep, and I stayed like that, just holding her and admiring her beauty.
Unable to stop myself, I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, careful not to wake her. She shifted slightly against me, her fingers tightening in my shirt, and for a second, I thought she would stay asleep. But then her brow creased, and slowly, her eyes opened.