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Finally finding power in my legs, I stand but don’t approach him. I simply stay quiet, hoping he will say more.
“He disappeared. For years, I didn’t hear his name. Until Beth showed up at my office one day wanting to know about Jess. This shelter was only at the design stage. So, I did the only thing I could. I got her the hell away from him. Soon after, he fell off the face of the planet again. Beth wanted to press charges. Sam was trying to build a case against him, but he was met with resistance from fucking everyone. No one wants to prosecute a judge’s son. When he got word of what Beth was doing, he showed up, claiming he had changed. They have a family. She wanted to believe him.”
No hint of bitterness. He gets it.
Turning to finally meet my eyes, he runs a frustrated hand through his hair while blowing out a long breath. He glances around. “This place. Everything I’ve done is to understand.”
It all makes sense.
His wife.
This shelter is for her.
Everything he does is for her.
Something claws at my chest, ripping at old wounds until they bleed out.
We’re both spending our lives helping women because we couldn’t help the ones we loved the most.
“Jake,” I try to say, but my voice breaks. Shaking the shiver from my bones, I stand straight and take a small step toward him. I might not be able to make him understand everything, but maybe I can help. And if it soothes only a fraction of his pain, I want to.
“I didn’t know your wife, but I know these women. They fall in love like everyone else. They give their trust and expect the person they love to protect it. It starts slowly. They hear simple things like, ‘You don’t need so much makeup,’ ‘I don’t think your friends like me,’ ‘You said no last night’. They’re experts at isolating.
“Eventually, these women question their own choices because every decision is made for them. I talk to them every day. Do you know what they want? They want to go to a hair salon but they’re too afraid to go on their own. They want to walk down the street and not look over their shoulder.”
My voice shakes, remembering Leah in my office.
“I had an eighteen-year-old girl in this room asking if I could show her how to do her makeup because she wasn’t allowed before coming here. Just like that. She wasn’t allowed.
“The kids want to be kids. They want to feel normal. Coming out of a relationship like that is the scariest thing because you doubt your every move.”
With a deep breath, I pump enough courage to say, “You told me about your wife when she was sick. I think she made those decisions because she finally had the freedom to do it.” I bat the tears away, refusing to set them free. “Nois such a small word, but it’s our most powerful. It’s a choice. But when someone ignores it, it becomes our weakest.”
His head falls between his shoulders, but it’s only a split second before my words hit, and it snaps back. He’s trying to hide the rage in his eyes, the signs of a knot twisting in his stomach, the fear.
I see it because I know it.
Those shadows mock us. They taunt us until we build the courage to swallow them whole again.
The moment his eyes connect with mine, he sees it too.
And I hate myself for it.
I hate that I’ve let it show.
He takes a step forward, but I hold out my hand to stop him. “Stop,” I breathe. “This isn’t about me. I know because I’ve seen it with the people I work with.”
I wish I was a better liar.
He ignores my pleas. Instead, he simply takes another step in my direction, so close now I feel the heat from his body. Desperate to divert his attention, I drop my gaze and open my mouth to say something.
Anything.
But he stops me, gripping my chin between his fingers and forcing me to look at him.
No words are spoken.
Not out loud.
