“So what the fuck should I do?”
“Stop hovering, stop deciding her life for her because you feel guilty. Stop making her stay stuck because you can’t stand to see her in pain. Pain already happened. It already owns a part of her. The question is what you’re gonna do now.”
“I’m trying to keep her safe,” Seth answers quickly. “I’m doing everything.”
Beau snorts. “You’re doing everything except the one thing that matters.”
“And what's that?”
“She survived torture,” Beau says. “She doesn’t need a padded room. Let her be angry. Let her be pissed about it. Let her say she wants blood. Let her want revenge.”
Seth exhales hard.
“She’s not a victim,” Beau affirms. “Don’t let her be a victim. Don’t let her decide she’s only something that happened to her. She’s more than that.”
Seth shifts his weight, staring at the bag.
“She can’t even eat without throwing up half the time.”
“So you sit with her,” Beau tells him. “You help her eat. And then you stop building her entire world around what she can’t do yet.”
Seth hits the bag again, harder this time.
“I want her back.”
“She isn’t going to be who she was.”
Seth doesn’t answer.
“She’s going to be who she becomes after this,” Beau continues. “You can stand beside her while she figures that out, or you can keep mourning someone who doesn’t exist anymore.”
Seth drags a breath into his lungs.
“I fucking hate myself.”
“I know,” Beau replies. “But hating yourself doesn’t help her.”
Seth drives his fist into the bag again.
“I should’ve gotten there sooner,” Seth's voice hardens. “I knew something was off. My gut kept telling me something was wrong and I ignored it.”
The bag swings back and he hits it again.
“John. Mary. Amber. Nick. They were around her the whole time and I didn’t see what they were.”
The chain rattles violently above them.
“They were a threat,” Seth hits the bag again. “I should’ve taken them out the second I felt something was wrong.”
Beau watches him for a moment.
“It happened,” he says. “Now you make sure what they did doesn’t define her.”
Seth’s breathing fills the room.
“You’re not helpless,” Beau continues. “Stop acting like you are. You want to help her? Then stop hovering and start training. Start planning. Start putting the rage somewhere useful.”
“Training her isn’t going to heal her,” Seth sighs.
