Chapter 67 Caterina
Caterina
I thought I understood what it meant to survive. Survival was more than living through a bullet or a life-threatening injury. Just like I thought strength was defined by how one carried themselves in war, how much blood they got on their hands, and how they directed a room with their very presence.
But I was wrong.
Strength was Harlow.
Healing wasn’t kind to her, and it was a difficult process to watch.
It wasn’t cinematic or quick. It was violent in its own way.
I felt useless trying to help Harlow heal and find peace from her mind, but not this.
She would spend most of her time in the gym, letting out her anger and pain on a punching bag, but at night, her pain came fighting back through her dreams.
“He fucking broke me, and I am tired of pretending he didn’t. I am tired of acting like I am strong because that is what everyone expects from me!”
Neither of them realized I was outside the gym when they were sparring.
I wanted to see how it was going, but I heard Natalya’s speech.
She was being strong for everyone else when she was breaking.
How could I be her wife—love her—when I couldn’t see the signs?
I hadn’t experienced this level of trauma, but I could see her triggers.
She was scared of people, even the ones who had been with her all this time.
After her talk with Natalya, she was declining again.
Healing was far from linear, and I knew it would take time.
She was in the gym, overdoing it on the punching bag, or in bed, not moving an inch.
Everyone was worried about her. Serenity was asking where Row was, but Mallory didn’t have an answer for her.
It was time we talked and not just about what happened, but how it affected us.
Talking about my feelings wasn’t something I was used to, but I knew to help Harlow, I needed to talk.
First, I needed to find her. I checked our room first, but she wasn’t in bed and she wasn’t in the bathroom. That left one option.
I moved quickly, walking to the gym. I heard the rhythmic thud of her hitting the bag.
Most of the time someone would be with her, but she was there alone.
When I stepped into the gym, she wasn’t fully there.
She was checked out, her mind taking her somewhere else.
Harlow was exhausted; I could see it written all over her face.
She shouldn’t be exerting herself like this when Lena didn’t give her the all clear.
The only reason I was okay with minimal sparring was to help her recovery. “Harlow,” I called out.
She didn’t move; she didn’t even flinch.
Her body trembled as she hit the bag. When she adjusted her stance, I saw the faint kiss of crimson on the boxing tape wrapped around her knuckles.
She was hurting herself. This form of self-harm wasn’t as life-altering as before, but she was still hurting herself and trying to numb the pain.
Unhealthy coping mechanisms were still harmful and yes, I knew I wasn’t one to talk.
“Harlow, you’re going to hurt yourself.”
“Good,” she spat. “Then maybe I can feel something other than numbness.”
“Harlow, stop. If you want to fight, let’s spar. Take your anger out on me. I know you’re pissed off at me. So come on.”
She looked at me, sweat dripping from her brow. “You don’t want that. I might hurt you.”
I smirked, but she didn’t like that. “Come on.”
We walked to the center of the mat, and Harlow didn’t hold back.
She let out pent-up rage and aggression tenfold.
Her first hit landed sharp on my ribs, knocking the wind out of me.
I wasn’t fighting back because I knew she needed to do this, but I might be expediting a trip to Lena.
I dodged a punch to the face because I could handle anywhere else.
Harlow could handle it, too, when she came out of this haze, but if she saw visible bruises, she would feel guilty for hurting me.
If I wanted to, I could have her on her back, confessing everything to me, but I didn’t want to do it that way. She needed this. She needed me to be the anchor she needed when she fell so I could catch her before she drowned. I would always catch her, but she needed this moment.
By the time her stance faltered and her walls shattered, she was on the verge of tears. “I thought you died.” The words were a punch to the gut, harder than anything I ever experienced. “There was no point in surviving if you wouldn’t be here with me.”
“Mia vita…”
“And the worst part? I had people. Serenity. Lizzy. Everyone else, but the idea of living in a world without you broke me.” Her breath hitched as I pulled her trembling frame against mine.
“It was selfish, but I couldn’t do it. How could I survive when I barely survived the first time?
I had you. I thought I wouldn’t have you again. ”
She clung to my shirt like she needed something to keep her from falling apart. “I’m here,” I murmured against her hair. “I love you. I love you so goddamn much. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. Why didn’t you say anything?”
Harlow sobbed into the fabric of my shirt, her tears burning my skin.
I never wanted these kinds of tears. “Because I felt selfish. How do I tell people I care about that I didn’t care about living when at the time, I thought the woman I loved was dead?
He kept telling me you were gone and I was his.
I couldn’t do it. I fought for as long as I could.
And then he told me about my mom. I felt torn because a part of me was already gone.
” I felt her chin wobble. “I don’t want life without you. ”
I lifted her chin until her eyes met mine. The look in them broke my heart. I needed to replace that look with love and life once more. “You never will. Not as long as I am breathing. I will always fight to come back to you, but we’re done fighting. Stop being so strong and fall apart in my arms.”
And she finally did.
I held her close until her sobs were replaced with soft snoring before taking her to my bedroom.
She would never lose me, and I would fight to make sure I saw life come back to her gorgeous eyes once more.