“I tried to leave once before.” I shudder at the memory. “It didn’t go well.”
“What happened?”
“He… he said that if I was going to act like a stupid bitch who didn’t appreciate how good I had it, he would show me what I really deserved.” Sofia's thumb rubs circles on the back of my hand but says nothing, giving me time to tell her when I’m ready.
“He beat me badly. I’m not sure how long for, but at some point, I lost consciousness. That wasn’t unusual. But when I woke up, it hurt to breathe, and my throat was burning.Like fire had been wrapped around it. I was… I was wearing a silver collar with a silver chain attached to it.”
Sofia covers her mouth as she audibly gasps. Her brown eyes widen and her hand trembles slightly. She knows what silver does to a wolf. How it sears and poisons us, how it slows our healing.
“He made me go about my normal day. Maintaining the house, preparing meals I wasn’t allowed to eat. Doing the pack bookkeeping that I had been doing since I moved in with him. All the while, in unbearable pain and knowing that mistakes were never tolerated. At night, he hooked the chain to the floor of the basement. He whipped my back with his belt until I blacked out from the pain. Afterwards, he left me there alone.”
I can’t bring myself to glance at Sofia while I share the story of the worst week of my life, so I stare straight ahead instead. I draw my legs up and wrap my arms around them, pressing my forehead into my knees. The loneliness and terror I experienced during that time still chills me now, and I constantly reassure myself that it’s only a memory as I hear Aidan’s voice clearly in my head.You deserve every lash. If you weren’t such an awful mate, I wouldn’t have to do this. It's all your fault.
“In the morning, he would come down and tell me it was for my own good. That he didn’t want to hurt me, but I had forced him into it by being such a terrible mate. It went on for days and he didn’t stop until I was so mentally broken that I thanked him for showing me how much he cared. He made methank himfor the pain he inflicted. He said he did those things to me because he loved me and that I needed training so I could be worthy of his love.”
The silence stretches thick and uncomfortable between us.
Sofia’s breath hitches. “Emily…” she chokes, wiping tears from her face. “I’m so sorry. That’s… it’s unimaginable.”
Her brown eyes are red-rimmed, and tears are streaming down her face. Guilt hits me hard, like a punch in the gut. I’ve said too much. She didn’t need to hear that. I won’t tell her what he threatened to do if I ever tried to leave again.
“I’m sorry for dumping that on you. I shouldn’t have unloaded on you like that. I just started talking and the words kind of tumbled out. It’s a lot to hear.”
“It was a lot tolive through,” she whispers. “You’re so strong for surviving being with him. And so resilient for finding even more strength and managing to get away when you knew how awful the risk of getting caught was.”
“I’m not strong. I’m weak. I’ve always been weak.”
“No,” she says with quiet certainty. “You’re still standing, aren’t you? Even after everything he did to try to break you? You’re still here. There’s nothing stronger than that.”
Sofia hugs me again and the tears I’ve been holding in roll down my cheeks. The comfort Sofia offers is so alien to me, but I can’t help but soak it up. Her warmth, her kindness, how she seems to genuinely want to be here for me. I don’t deserve her friendship, but I can’t stop myself from taking it.
“Thank you,” I whisper, swiping the tears off my cheeks.
After a moment, she pulls back slightly. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way—because you can always talk to me—but I truly believe it would help to speak to a therapist.”
“A therapist? Like when humans go to talk about their feelings and stuff?” Only the years of learning how to hide my reactions stops me from gawking at her. Why would she even suggest such a thing?
Because she thinks you’re stupid and broken and no one wants to listen to your pathetic whining.
I shake off that voice in my head that always pops up when I’m questioning myself. It sounds like Aidan, and it consists of the kind of things he would say if he were here.
“Yeah, I know it’s not common for wolves, but you’ve been through so much, Em. One of my human friends saw someone after leaving a toxic relationship. It really helped her. Even just having a place to say everything without judgment. Like obviously you can’t share the full story, but you could talk about the abuse, how it impacted you, and get help with moving forward.”
I glance down at my hands. “How would that even work? I’ve never talked to a human before. What if I mess it up and do it all wrong?”
“I don’t think youcando it wrong. Honestly, I’m in awe of you. Even after everything he did to try to break you, you still survived and got out. He took three years of your life. Don’t let him take your future, too.”
I take a deep breath. The last thing I want is to let my past ruin my future too. That’s the whole reason I ran. I want a future. One where I can have friends and decide myself what I wear or eat.
“I have no money, Fia. Even if I wanted to talk to someone, it’s not an option right now. But I promise I’ll consider it once I’m back on my feet,” I swear. I never would have considered a therapist before, but Sofia is right. I need to move forward.
Talking about my experience has helped and I feel more free than I have in as long as I can remember. It’s like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. But I don’t want to burden her any more than I already have. It's not fair to take the weight from my shoulders and place it on hers.
Sofia doesn’t push it any further, but she's planted a seed, and I appreciate it so much. Knowing she has faith that I could be happy again—that I might not be broken beyond repair—has done something to me. Possibly even put some of those broken pieces back together.
I might not believe it yet, but I’m going to try to borrow her belief in me until I find my own.
I slept better last night than I have in years. Maybe it was the catharsis of crying. Maybe it was knowing someone actually sees me. Either way, I woke up without the usual weight pressing down on my chest. I'm still me—still scared, still broken—but maybe a little less alone.
