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His sweet words and gentleness soothes the ache in my soul. I still have nightmares. I still think about what happened. But every day, it gets a bit easier. Every day, I find a new reason to smile, a new reason to get out of bed.
Some days, like yesterday, it’s harder. But I force myself to get out of bed, to put one foot in front of the other. My body is fully healed now and I’m no longer in pain, but I know healing from something like this isn’t just about the physical injuries, it’s the mental ones, the invisible ones, that take the longest to heal.
But I’m trying. When I sat on the floor to organize Roman’s bookshelf, I made a decision.
I wouldn’t let Isaac win.
So, from that day on, I’ve been surviving out of spite. I’ve been pushing myself, working on getting better, on repairing my soul, because I refuse to let Isaac hold any more power over me.
He controlled my life for so long.
No more.
No more.
With newfound determination, I settle back on the machine and lift my arms to the pads. Gritting my teeth, I push them forward, letting my weak muscles strain as the weight barely lifts.
“Come on!” Chase shouts, and my eyes snap to them. Roman’s on his back with Chase above him as he lifts a bar weighed down with plates on either side. “You got it!”
His arms tremble, his face and chest turning red, veins popping in his neck. His leg bounces, a grunt leaving him as his arms straighten, the weight proudly held above him.
“Again!” Chase demands. His hands hover under the bar, ready to catch it if Roman slips. It makes my stomach twist. But this is what they do, what they’ve always done.
“Excuse me. Miss?”
I blink a few times, my attention snapping up to the man approaching me. He’s tall, and muscular with light brown hair and soft green eyes. He gives me a gentle smile as he gestures at me.
“I hope I’m not bothering you. I just wanted to let you know I think your form is a bit off.”
I drop the weight back down and lower my arms to my lap. “My form?” I try to keep my voice light as I smile politely up at him. Using his hand, he points at the machine.
“There’s too much weight. And your arms are in the wrong places.” He steps forward, his hands outstretched. “May I?”
“What?” I shrink away from him.
“Help.” He lets out a low laugh, his eyes briefly dropping to my chest before meeting my gaze again.
“Um.” I glance at Chase and Roman, finding Roman finishing his last rep.
“I just don’t want you to hurt yourself,” the guy explains, drawing my attention back to him as he takes another step closer.
“Right.” My stomach twists, my hands going clammy. “I—I think I’m fine.” His smile falters.
“Really, it’s no trouble. I’m happy to help.” He places a hand on my shoulder, and my entire body locks up.
Suddenly, he flies to the floor, and Roman is standing in the spot he was in. His chest heaves as he glares down at him, his jaw tensing.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarls. The guy gapes up at him. Crouching, Roman grips his sweaty shirt in his fist. He jerks him forward until the guy’s face is only inches from his. “Don’t touch my fucking girlfriend. Understand me?”
I inhale sharply at the words. Girlfriend?
Is that what I am to him?
I hope so.
The man scrambles away, his eyes wide as he stares up at Roman. “My–my bad, man. My bad.”
“Go.” Roman stands, towering over him as he points. “Don’t touch her. Don’t look at her. Don’t even think about her.” The guy’s head bobs as he stumbles to his feet, backing slowly away. “She’s mine.”
