"And when I thought he'd run away,
he told me that I'd never have to fight another battle alone."

•─────•°•❀•°•─────•

Cara's POV

His head leaned into my shoulder, heavy with a burden I could almost feel vibrate from him into me. I tightened my arm around him, pulling him closer as if that could shield him from whatever haunted his thoughts. My cheek rested on the top of his head, and I pressed a soft kiss into his hair, smoothing it away from his face with gentle fingers.

"If you want to talk about it, I'm all ears," I whispered, offering him a release to whatever was troubling him deeply on the inside.

His eyes slowly opened, but they were distant, unfocused, as though he was looking into a world I couldn't see, "She got hurt because of me," he murmured, his voice barely audible, but it held a weight that made my heart ache.

A frown furrowed my brow as I tried to understand. "What do you mean?" I asked, my voice soft, though my worry grew with every passing second.

He lifted his head from my shoulder, his tired, haunted eyes meeting mine. He ran a hand over his face, as if trying to wipe away the guilt that clung to him. "Mom, promise me you won't tell anyone?" His voice echoed with vulnerability, a plea that made my chest tighten.

Without hesitation, I nodded. "Of course," I said gently. "I promise."

He swallowed hard, the truth heavy in his throat. "Valerie...there's this guy that she dated before, and he..." His voice faltered, his jaw clenched, and I saw the storm brewing in his eyes. I noticed the way his breathing fastened, his fury fighting to the surface. Trying to grasp for control, he glanced down at his hand, clenched into a tight fist, and I noticed for the first time the raw, reddened skin across his knuckles. My breath caught, a mix of concern and fear gripping me. What the hell?

Before I could ask, he continued, his voice thick with barely controlled anger. "He assaulted her...sexually, I mean."

The words hung in the air for a moment too long, heavy and suffocating, like a weight pressing down on my chest. My heart shattered in that moment—first for Valerie, for the unimaginable pain she had endured, and then for my son, who now carried the unbearable burden of that knowledge. Every instinct in me screamed to reach out, to pull him into my arms and shield him from this agony, but I knew deep down that no embrace could take this type of pain away.

For the first time in so long, I felt utterly helpless.

"I learned it on my own, she didn't tell me, and I..." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. His gaze was fixated on his hands, the same hands that flexed and unflexed as if trying to shake off invisible chains. He traced the small cuts on his knuckles, his voice trembling with the weight of his confession.

"She didn't tell me, and I...I couldn't just stand by. I reached out to Nikolas, and asked him to help me find the guy," He added, "That son of a bitch...he kept threatening her, and I was so scared—terrified that he'd hurt her again."

Each word struck me like a blow, the shock of his revelations widening my eyes, my breath catching in my throat. The torment etched into Max's face was almost too much to bear. The conflict between his thirst for justice and the crushing guilt of not being able to protect Valerie tore at him, consuming every part of his being.

"We found him—Nikolas found him," Max continued, his voice growing softer, tinged with a haunting regret. "I asked Nikolas to hurt him, and he did. I thought it would scare him off, make him stay away...but no," he shook his head, his voice breaking, "No, it didn't stop him. He went after her again, and he...he hurt her again."

He finally lifted his gaze from his bruised hands, his eyes meeting mine, filled with a sorrow so deep it made my heart ache. His eyes were wet and red, emotions swirling too intensely, too raw for him to contain. A single tear slipped down his cheek, heavy with the pain he could no longer hold back, and his lower lip trembled as he whispered,  "He hurt her because of me, and I don't know if I can live with that fact."

I reached out and cupped his cheek, my thumb gently brushing away that solitary tear, feeling the weight of everything I had just learned pressing down on my chest. It was as if my heart was being squeezed, too tight, too heavy with the pain he carried. I shook my head, trying to offer him some solace. "It's not your fault," I whispered, but he only shook his head in return, lost in the belief that this burden was his alone to bear.

I couldn't let him carry it all by himself. I pulled him back into my embrace, wrapping my arm around his shoulders, and holding him as close as I could. A whirlwind of emotions crashed over me as the bigger picture started to form in my mind. My heart ached for that little girl, who had been dragged into such a dark and twisted reality far too soon. The innocence that had been stolen from her, the fear she must have felt—it was unbearable to even think about.

I couldn't stop my thoughts from drifting back to my own past, to the choices I had made, to the twisted games I had been caught up in. Still, I was an adult then, fully aware of the dangers and yet still devastated by the consequences. But Valerie...she is just a child, thrust into a world no one should ever have to face. The sheer unfairness of it all struck me like a blow to the chest.

At least I had people by my side, people who stood with me through every storm, who helped me when I was lost. But her? Did she have anyone to turn to, anyone who could help her navigate this nightmare? The thought of her being alone, of suffering in silence, made my heart ache even more.

In the midst of everything he shared, the revelation that he had turned to Nikolas for help—of all people—struck me the hardest.

"Does your father know about any of this?" I asked, my voice soft but tinged with concern.

He shook his head, his voice barely audible as he mumbled, "No."

I swallowed hard, trying to push down the bitterness rising in my throat. I tightened my embrace around him, holding him so close, afraid that if I let him go, the world would find new ways to hurt him.

"Try to sleep for now," I whispered, gently brushing his hair back. "We'll talk about all of this later, okay?"

He nodded, his exhaustion and the haze of alcohol pulling his eyelids down. It didn't take long before his breathing slowed, and he finally drifted into sleep in my embrace.

I gently caressed his face, my fingers tracing the contours with a tenderness that spoke of how quickly he had grown—too quickly, perhaps. Yet at this moment, wrapped in the quietness of the night, he felt like my little boy again, my kid who still needed me.

I couldn't bring myself to leave, not yet. I stayed by his side for more than an hour, maybe two, my mind racing, my chest aching with the weight of everything he had shared. The room was quiet, save for the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing.

Then, I heard the familiar sound of footsteps approaching, careful and silence. They paused just outside the door before Alex slowly pushed it open, the light from the room drawing him in. His brows furrowed in confusion as he took in the scene.

He stepped further inside, his eyes locking onto Max, his sleepy expression quickly giving way to concern.

"What's wrong? Is he okay? What happened?" His voice was hushed, but the worry was unmistakable, heavy, and palpable.

His eyes flickered back to me and his eyebrow raised, "And why aren't you in my bed?"

I gave him a knowing look and he shook it off as he focused his attention back on Max. I carefully adjusted his head on the pillow and slowly stood up.

"Seriously, what's going on?" Alex asked again, his anxiety mounting as his gaze drifted between Max and me, "Is he okay?"

I shook my head as I tucked the blanket more securely around him, smoothing it beneath his chin. "I'm not sure," I whispered, the uncertainty in my voice only amplifying my husband's worry.

Alex edged closer, his gaze flickered all over our boy's face, his anxiety doubling at the intensity in my voice, searching desperately for any clue, any sign of what might be wrong.

He leaned closer and reached out to brush the hair away from our boy's forehead, his fingers lingering as if the simple act could somehow protect him from whatever pain he was carrying. The intensity in his eyes mirrored the fear in my heart—fear of not knowing, of not being able to fix what is broken.

I rested my hand on Alex's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Come on," I urged softly. "Let's leave him to rest." I flicked off the light and led him out of the room, our footsteps muted on the carpeted floor.

As we moved into the hallway, Alex wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close, "Will you tell me what happened?" His voice was laden with concern, his eyes searching mine for answers.

I met his gaze and shook my head, trying to mask the gravity of the situation with a hint of lightness, "I can't. He swore me to secrecy," I said, hoping to soften his worry.

Alex's brow furrowed, frustration evident on his face, "You know that he never shares anything with me since...since you know what," he grumbled, "You could at least give me a hint."

Leaning into him, I slid my arm around his waist, drawing comfort from his presence, "Remember that thing you used to do, how you'd teach him about girls and all," I said and he nodded, "I need you to teach him something else this time."

"Teach him about what?" Alex asked, his brows pulling closer.

My chest ached, "About heartbreak."

•─────•°•❀•°•─────•

Max's POV

I ran my fingers through the damp strands of my hair as I slumped into the chair, exhaustion weighing heavily on me. Despite the shower, the haze of my hangover clung stubbornly, and my tired eyes struggled to focus. I reached for the coffee cup placed on the table and took a long gulp, hoping the caffeine would dispel the throbbing ache in my head.

With a sigh, I forced my eyelids open wider, blinking away the lingering fog, and tried to take in my surroundings more clearly.

My gaze met Dad's, who sat across from me. He had just set his phone down, and now his eyes flickered between the cup of coffee in my hand and my face. I tried to recall if he had seen me in my distraught state the night before. I remembered talking only to Mom, and I hoped she hadn't shared anything with him.

His eyebrow raised, "That's my cup, you do know that, right?" He said, his tone playful as he nodded his head toward the cup of coffee wrapped between my fingers.

My eyes widened and I pushed the cup forward, "Uh, I didn't know," I mumbled. Damn it.

Dad chuckled softly, his tone light and teasing. "It's okay. I used to chew the vegetables before I'd put them in your mouth," he added, with a mock seriousness that made my eyes grow even wider.

"No, you didn't," I said, incredulous.

He grinned and nodded his head, ever so proud, "Oh yeah, I did."

If I had the slightest appetite to have breakfast, now that's all gone.

I shot him a pointed look, and his grin only widened. With a mischievous wink, he grabbed the cup we'd both apparently sipped from and headed off. I let out an exaggerated sigh, feeling the chaos take over my head again.

A few minutes later, Dad returned with two fresh cups of coffee. He rested one across from me, "Here you go," He said, seating himself on the chair right next to mine, much closer this time.

"Thanks, you didn't have to," I mumbled, reaching for the cup, and wrapping my fingers around its ceramic edges.

"You look miserable enough; the least I can do is get you coffee," he said, though his playful tone was undercut with a seriousness I couldn't ignore.

My lips twitched into a thin line. "It's that obvious, huh?"

He gave me a small shrug, "Wanna talk about it?"

I shook my head, "Not really."

"If that redhead did something, just tell me—"

I smiled despite myself and corrected him gently. "It's ginger."

"What?"

"Her hair—it's ginger, not red," I said, correcting him.

He rolled his eyes, though his concern was evident. "Still, I'm not okay with all of this," he said, pointing at me from head to toe, "Let me talk to her, warn her that she can't mess with my boy—"

"It's not her, Dad," I said, "It's all me."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced but willing to drop it, "I doubt that, but okay.

I gave him a knowing look, and he returned it with a tender smile that made me smile back.

"Anything I can help with?" he asked, extending an olive branch I should have taken. In this moment, I should have opened up to him, before everything spun out of control. But I held back.

I shook my head with a small smile, "If there's anything, you'll be the first I come to."

"Okay, good to know that," he said, trying to look relieved, though I could see the worry in the corners of his eyes. He focused his gaze on the cup in his hand, his fingers anxiously tracing its edges. His jaw moving, his chest expanding with every breath he took.

My chest tightened. It was as if the distance between us was becoming palpable, a gap widening with every unspoken word. It was a distance I despised but seemed almost inevitable, an involuntary drift that could damage the tight bond we shared.

•─────•°•❀•°•─────•

Cara's POV

"Hey, come in," Natalie greeted me with a warm smile, gently closing the door behind us.

I returned her smile and stepped further inside, "Is Nikolas home?" I asked, my voice softer than usual, tinged with a worry I couldn't shake off.

"Yeah, hold on a sec," she said, heading toward one of the rooms and calling for him.

As she did, I crouched down to Maria's level, her innocent eyes lighting up when I pecked her chubby cheek. She giggled, a sound so pure it momentarily lifted the weight off my chest. "Where's Lilly?" she asked, her tiny voice full of curiosity.

"She's at work," I replied.

Maria nodded with utter concentration, lines etching on her forehead, "Hmm, tell her to come and visit me, okay?"

I ruffled her soft curls, "Yeah, sure," I said with a tender smile.

Just then, Natalie returned with Nikolas by her side. As I straightened up, my eyes met his, and it was as if he already knew the purpose of my visit. The unspoken understanding between us became clearer when I spoke, "Can we talk?" I asked.

He nodded, "Yeah, sure," he said, leading me to his office.

Once we sat down, he broke the silence first, "Let me guess, this is about Max."

I nodded, the breath I'd been holding escaping in a low sigh, "Yeah."

"He told you?" he asked, his voice edged with a slight tension as if preparing for my reaction.

"He was drunk," I admitted, my words drawing his brows into a furrow, "Or else he wouldn't have."

Nikolas straightened in his chair, his concern palpable. "And?"

"And you need to tell Alex about this," I said, my voice firmer now. "He won't like it if he finds out on his own."

Nikolas nodded, understanding the gravity of my words. "I know," he said, "That's why I've been pushing Max to tell him, but he won't budge."

He leaned back, a heavy sigh slipping from his lips. "He made me promise at the beginning that I wouldn't tell Alex, and I was scared he'd go about this on his own, so I accepted," he explained, his voice filled with an almost desperate need for me to understand. "I gave him my word, Cara, and for the first time ever, he's treating me...like I'm not just some guy he's forced to deal with."

He shook his head, "I can't break that promise."

I nodded, feeling the tightness in my chest intensify. I sank into the chair, helplessness seeping into my bones. "What about that—guy?"

Nikolas's expression hardened, his gaze sharpening with that familiar look—the one that meant he had locked onto a target. "That's on me," he said, his voice low, controlled, yet brimming with an intensity that consumed the room. "I'll get rid of him in no time, for Max's sake, and for the girl's."

His determination was like a cold, unwavering force. The kind that would burn down the world if it meant protecting those he cared about. And though his resolve brought me some measure of comfort, it also terrified me—because this was my son, caught in a storm I couldn't shield him from.

"Don't involve Max in it, please, Nikolas," I said, a plea in my voice, "It nearly killed me when I saw him in that hospital bed, unconscious and hurt, fighting for his life," Emotions tightened my voice, "I can't, and I won't do it again."

He nodded in assurance, "I promise, I won't let anything happen to him. You can trust me in this, Cara."

I inhaled deeply, trying to steady myself, leaning my head back against the cushion. The tension in my chest remained, pressing down like a weight I couldn't shake off. "And about Valerie... He won't hurt her again, right?" The thought of that poor girl haunted me, and kept me awake at night, twisting my heart in knots.

Nikolas shook his head, his resolve unwavering. "Never. I've doubled security around her. This time, he won't get even a chance to get close to her."

I nodded, feeling a small flicker of relief, but it didn't ease the ache in my heart. It felt like a drop in an ocean of worry, barely making a ripple.

"She's so young," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, my thoughts spiraling deeper into the pain I knew she was enduring.

"Not just young, but she's all alone," Nikolas added, his voice low, carrying the weight of what he knew. "Her father was killed, she's got a much younger sister to care for, and a deadbeat mother who is apparently good for nothing." His words intensified the tightness in my chest. "After the incident, they had to move, she had to change schools. She's working three, sometimes four part-time jobs, all while taking care of her sister."

He shook his head, a mix of disbelief and sorrow in his expression, "I don't know how she's doing it, how she's holding everything together."

"She deserves better," I whispered, and the trembling in my chest became unbearable. I felt like I could cry. It was as if she were my own daughter, facing the world with too much weight on her young shoulders.

Nikolas hesitated for a moment, then spoke, "Actually, I had a thought..."

"About?"

"What if you talk to her?" Nikolas suggested. I won't lie and say it didn't cross my mind, but, "What if it's not my place to interfere?" I asked, uncertainty creeping into my tone.

Nikolas shook his head slowly, his gaze intent. "I'm not sure about that, but I think it's better than doing nothing. The girl needs someone, Cara. She's taking on too much, too soon, and all on her own."

•─────•°•❀•°•─────•

Valerie's POV

"Val, someone's here for you," Reneé's voice echoed through the small house, pulling me away from the sink. I dried my hands hastily, setting aside the half-washed dishes, curiosity already tugging at the corners of my mind.

Who could possibly be dropping by for me? The question etched lines of confusion across my forehead as I made my way to the entrance.

I stopped dead in my tracks, my breath hitching in my throat as my eyes landed on her. Standing in the doorway, her presence so unexpected, so out of place in our worn-out home, was Max's mother. She was leaning slightly toward Reneé, a soft smile on her face, talking about something that had my sister grinning from ear to ear.

I swallowed hard, feeling the strain in my throat, trying to comprehend what on earth she was doing here. Why would she come? Out of all people? The thought sent a jolt of panic through me, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.

I rubbed my palms nervously against the sides of my sweatpants, trying to steady myself, trying to breathe. But it felt like the air had turned thick, my lungs refusing to cooperate.

As I approached, her gaze lifted from Reneé and settled on me. Her smile softened, her eyes warm and gentle, almost as if she could see right through the wall I was desperately trying to build. She tilted her head slightly, her smile wavering just a bit, "Hey," she greeted, her voice as tender as her expression.

I forced a smile, though it felt brittle, like it might shatter any second. "Uh, hey, come on in," I gestured awkwardly, stepping aside to let her in. Despite everything, despite my silent vow to keep as far away from Max as possible, I couldn't just turn her away. I respected her too much for that—admired her, even. She carried herself with a grace I could only dream of having.

"Thanks," she said, stepping into our home. Her eyes flickered around, taking in the surroundings before they returned to me. "I'm sorry for just showing up like this. I hope I'm not intruding."

I shook my head, perhaps a little too quickly. "No, not at all. Please, come in," I said, trying to sound casual, though my voice felt too tight, too high. I gestured toward the living room, leading her inside, though I had no idea what to do or say next. My mind was racing, nerves scraping at my insides.

Reneé, ever the polite host, looked up at her with a welcoming smile. "Is there anything I can bring you?" she offered.

Cara's smile widened, a kindness in her eyes that somehow only made me more nervous. "Oh, no sweetie, thank you so much," she replied, settling onto one of the couches.

Reneé glanced at me, still smiling, before excusing herself. "I'll be in my room if you need me," she said, leaving us alone on purpose.

As soon as she left, the air grew heavier. I perched on the edge of my seat, hands clasped tightly in my lap, feeling like I might jump out of my skin at any moment. What was I supposed to say? What could I possibly say to her?

She seemed to sense my anxiety. She leaned forward slightly, her voice calm, reassuring. "Firstly, I want to make it clear that Max has no idea I'm here," she said, her tone serious but not unkind, "And I'd like to keep it that way, if that's okay with you."

I nodded my head, "Yeah, sure," It's not like I am on talking terms with him or anything.

I couldn't help but look at her throughly, at how she looked so out of place in our house. She was dressed simply, but there was nothing ordinary about it. Her clothes were casual—a soft, cream-colored blouse tucked neatly into tailored pants, the fabric flowing effortlessly with every movement.

Yet, there was an elegance to her that was unmistakable. The subtle shine of her designer shoes, the delicate jewelry that caught the light just so—it all spoke of a quiet luxury. It made our humble surroundings seem even more faded and frayed by comparison.

I stared down at the hole in my sock, feeling a rush of embarrassment. Quickly, I tucked it under my other foot, my stomach twisting with anxiety. Why did she have to always see me like this, at my absolute worst?

A soft delicate touch pulled me out of my haze and had me lift my head up. Her fingers tenderly rested over my thighs, bringing my gaze back to her eyes, "Valerie, I know that you are questioning my presence, and to be honest, I don't know if it is my place to interfere in your personal life, and if you feel uncomfortable in any way, I could just walk out."

My chest tightened at the level of softness and understatement in her few words. I shook my head, "No, definitely not, I am...I am so sorry, I am probably coming out to you as distant and cold, I am just nervous, I am not exactly sure what I am supposed to do or say..."

Her expression softened even more, and she gave my thigh a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "It's okay," she said, her voice steady and calm. "I'm not here to make you nervous. Just relax, alright? And if at any point you feel uncomfortable or that I'm crossing a line, tell me. I'll stop, and I'll leave. I promise, okay?"

I nodded my head, lost but also kind of aware of what was coming next.

She withdrew her hand, placing it in her lap as her gaze shifted downward. "Honestly, I wasn't sure if I should come. I debated it for a long time, and before I knew it, I was here."

Her eyes met mine again, and in them, I saw it all, I understood it all.

"I want you to know that I learned about this only because Max was drunk, heartbroken, and crying, and he made me promise to tell no one, and I won't ever. So, please, I don't want you to blame him for me knowing about this, or for me being here."

I brought my hand up and rubbed it over my chest, not comprehending the source of this pain, was it for learning that Max wasn't okay, or that she...knew?

I shook my head, "I won't...I don't blame him, I mean."

She hesitated for a moment, as if gathering the courage to continue, "I don't know if you are aware of this, but I have been through something similar," She said and I didn't want to say that I knew, I didn't want to put Max in a difficult position with her about what he shared with me, "I just wanted to come here, in case you needed to talk to someone who understands. Back then, I would've given anything to have someone like that."

Her words pierced through the defenses I had tried so hard to build. I felt the tears welling up, climbing to my eyes so quickly that I couldn't stop them. My throat tightened, my lower lip trembled, and I fought to keep control. But when Cara edged closer, her hand gently covering mine, the last thread of restraint snapped.

"Hey, it's okay," she murmured, her voice like a balm to my raw emotions. "Don't hold it back, it's okay."

The tears spilled over, blurring my vision as they trickled down my cheeks. I couldn't stop them now, couldn't pretend I was fine. The pain, the exhaustion, the loneliness—all of it poured out in those silent tears.

I lifted my teary gaze to her, feeling utterly lost and broken. "Is it supposed to hurt this much?" I whispered, my voice trembling with the weight of my agony. She was right, I needed someone to understand, to truly see the depth of my pain. No one else did. No one.

She nodded gently, her hand moving to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Yes, it will hurt, Valerie. It will hurt so deeply, sometimes for what feels like forever," she said softly, "But it has to hurt, because what you went through was unimaginable. It was monstrous, inhuman. Don't ever let anyone convince you otherwise."

My mom told me I should brush it off, claiming that I'd brought it upon myself, that I threw myself into David's arms, and that partially—it was my fault.

"When will it stop hurting?" I managed to get the words out of my hoarse throat.

Cara moved her hand to my cheek, gently brushing a few of my tears away, "Only you can determine the answer to that, Valerie," She said, "It will take time, but the period is up to you only. There are these many steps that you will have to go through and if you want, I am ready to be there for you for each and every one of them," She added, "And at one point, you will realize that it stopped hurting, that you've came a long way. You won't necessarily forget, but you will make your peace with the fact that it happened, that you can't change the past, you can only change the way you deal with it."

"You won't forget, and believe me, you don't have to ever forgive," she added.

I shook my head, "I won't ever forgive him," I whispered through my tears.

She nodded, her eyes steady and sure, "You don't have to. He should pay for what he did to you, and he will."

I nodded, my lower lip quivering uncontrollably. "He should," I murmured, but the bitterness in my voice couldn't mask the depth of my sorrow.

"I lost everything because of him." My vision blurred with tears, but in my mind's eye, I saw it all too clearly—the flames that had consumed the car, that had taken over my dad's body, and left Reneé crippled. The flames that never touched me physically but raged inside, burning away at my soul with every passing second.

"I lost my dad, my innocence," I choked out, my voice barely a whisper. "I lost my mom too, in a way. Reneé lost her leg. We lost so much because of him..." For the first time, I felt truly heard, as if the screams I had been holding back for so long were finally being acknowledged.

She kept on brushing my tears, on caressing my hair, "So, you can't let him win, Valerie, you have to fight back, you can't give up to him," She said and I shook my head, so helpless and powerless, "How could I ever fight him back?" I mumbled, "I have nothing. I am not strong enough."

"Oh sweetie, you are," She caressed my cheek, "You are so strong, and you will only get stronger with time, believe me," She said, so sure, "But the thing is that you don't necessarily have to fight him on your own. You should sometimes accept help from those around you, those who care about you."

I shook my head again, my heart tightening with fear. "What if those people get hurt too, because of me?" I wiped at my cheeks with my sleeves, my hands trembling. "I tried to fight the first time, and my dad ended up dead. I can't... I can't go through that again."

The fear in my voice wavered, barely holding back a fresh wave of tears. "He said he'd hurt Max," I whispered, the terror so raw in my chest that it made it hard to breathe. "I can't let that happen. I can't...not again."

The mention of a threat to Max ignited a fierce fire in her eyes. Her gaze hardened with a determination that radiated from her like an unbreakable shield. She shook her head, resolute and unwavering. "He won't. I won't let him lay a hand on my boy," she declared, her voice brimming with a confidence so fierce that it seemed she could take on the world for him.

"Max has an army behind him—people who would do anything to keep him safe. And now, Valerie, you have that army too," she added with a strength that almost made my fears melt away. "So don't be scared of him. He won't come near you again. That much I can assure you."

I stared at her, my mind grappling to understand her willingness to help me, a stranger. Her strength and grace were something I had never encountered before. "How were you able to do it?" I murmured, amazed by everything she is, "Because I don't seem to be able to. Just one reminder, and I crumble."

Her expression softened, revealing a vulnerability I hadn't expected. "Valerie, I crumbled too. Many times. I had no idea what I was doing, or how to keep going," she admitted, her voice laced with the echoes of past pain. "I stumbled so much, made so many mistakes."

"But with time, and with the help of those around me, I learned to fight back," she continued, offering me a glimpse into her journey. "I realized I had so many people worth fighting for—my friends, my family, my husband," she said, her lips curving into a small smile at the mere thought of him. "And my little girl. But even with all of that, I still crumbled, Valerie. I still had nightmares, still fell into panic attacks at the slightest trigger."

I listened, hanging onto every word she spoke, her experience weaving itself into the tapestry of my own pain, "Things got better after I had Max, but I knew I wasn't fully okay. That's when I sought professional help, when I started talking openly about what I'd been through. That's when I began to heal."

"Have you ever thought about that?" she asked gently. I nodded, though I couldn't bring myself to tell her that therapy was something I could never afford.

She reached for my hand, wrapping her fingers around it with a warmth that felt like a lifeline. "Valerie, I came here to tell you that you're not alone. If it ever gets too hard, I'm just one phone call away. And this isn't about Max or anyone else. This is one woman reaching out to another."

"You're not alone in this, and you don't have to be scared," she reassured me, her words so sincere that I found myself believing her. Hope flickered within me—hope that maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't be forever chained to the darkness of my past. "David will be taken care of, and no one else will get hurt. Trust me, okay?"

I found myself nodding, trusting her, her conviction seeping into my own heart.

Cara gently brushed away the last few tears on my cheeks. "I've taken up so much of your time, and again, I'm sorry for interfering, but—"

I shook my head instantly, "No, no, you don't have to apologize for anything, it's the exact opposite, no one ever talked to me like this, I am grateful, really."

She offered me a soft smile, giving my hand one final squeeze before standing up. Pulling out her phone, she tapped on the screen, and a moment later, I heard the familiar ring of my phone in the other room. "That's my number," she said. "Save it, and call me anytime, for anything. Never hesitate, okay?"

"Okay," I whispered, overwhelmed by the gravity of what she was offering me—support, guidance, a lifeline I never expected. The tears welled up again, blurring my vision as I tried to keep control, but they slipped through, spilling down my cheeks.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, ashamed of my weakness, wiping at my cheeks in vain.

Cara stepped closer, her voice a soft whisper that brought my gaze back to hers. "Valerie," she murmured, and something in her tone, in her eyes, made the walls around my heart collapse. Without thinking, I leaned into her embrace, seeking solace in her arms.

Before I could second-guess myself, her arms wrapped around me, strong and protective, holding me together in a world that had been tearing me apart.

She tightened her grip when I cried softly in her embrace, like a kid who just needed to be held, "Thank you," I mumbled into her chest.

She cradled the back of my head, "You don't have to thank me for anything, Valerie," She softly caressed my hair.

I sucked into a deep calming breath before I edged backward, breaking apart.

Her own eyes were filled with tears she held back, and she offered me a somber smile. She cleared her throat, "Uh, one last thing," She said, pulling a small card from her purse, "If you ever feel the need for a professional's help, I have a friend who works in the field," She said, extending the card forward.

I accepted her sweet gesture, "Thank you, but uhm, a therapist is a bit out of my budget—"

She shook her head, "My friend has a program, they offer free sessions and treatments, and the organization is pro bono. Just if you ever feel like you need it, give her a call, don't feel pressured to do anything you don't want."

I smiled, tucking the card into my pocket, "Okay, I'll keep that in mind, thank you, again."

•─────•°•❀•°•─────•

One week later...

Max's POV

I buried myself in my notebook, my eyes flitting between the glowing screen of my laptop and the pages filled with scribbled notes, trying to make them as coherent and clear as possible.

"Why are you copying the notes?" Cole's voice broke through my concentration. He was staring at me with that familiar look of confusion. "They're already on your laptop. Why tire yourself?"

"It's none of your business," I muttered, brushing him off as I returned to my task, hoping he'd drop it.

He sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair. "I'm bored."

I glanced at his abandoned laptop, a half-written report still glaring on the screen. "Don't you have a report to finish?" I asked, gesturing toward it.

Cole shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Nope. I only joined you here so I could get a chance to ogle at Aubrey," he admitted shamelessly, waving at someone behind me. I didn't need to turn around to know it was Aubrey, probably glaring at him from behind the counter.

Ignoring them, I went back into my notes, focusing on what mattered.

Did I drop by the coffee shop almost every day hoping I'd catch glimpses of her? No, definitely not.

It didn't matter though. Every time I drop by, she isn't here. Whether it was on purpose or not, I am not sure anymore.

Anyways—

My thoughts scattered as someone placed a cup of coffee beside my notebook. Before I could even look up, my heart stuttered in my chest, the sweet, familiar scent of strawberries wrapping around my senses like a spell.

Holding my breath, I slowly lifted my gaze, and there she was. My eyes met hers, and for the first time since what felt like ever, she was looking back at me. My heart skipped again as I took her in, from the way her ginger hair was pulled up in a high ponytail to that hideous green apron that somehow looked beautiful only on her.

Her pale skin was a stark contrast to the dark colors she wore, and her eyes—God, those eyes—were so clear and deep that I felt like I could drown in them.

My eyes fell to the cup she'd placed beside me, confused. "I didn't... order," I mumbled, the words slipping out clumsily as I tried to steady my racing thoughts. How could I think straight when she was right here, so close?

Valerie nodded, her expression unreadable—not angry, not smiling, just neutral. "It's on the house," she said, her voice calm and even, as if this was nothing out of the ordinary. She turned to walk away, ready to disappear back into the rhythm of her work, but Cole's voice stopped her.

"Do I get one too?" he asked, grinning like a fool.

Valerie looked at him and rolled her eyes, "No, you don't."

Cole gasped theatrically, clutching his chest as if he'd been shot, but I ignored him. I was too consumed by the ginger-headed girl who just brought me a coffee I hadn't ordered.

I watched as she walked back behind the counter, receiving orders and preparing them without once glancing at my side.

I looked back at the cup, I opened the white cap and a smile lifted up my lips almost instantly. It was a gingerbread latte, and yeah, with extra whipped cream.

"She is looking at you," Cole said, a small knowing smile sneaking up his lips.

Instantly, I whirled my head, my eyes catching hers, my smile unwavering, my heart beating so loud that maybe she could hear it too. Silently, she stared at me for a full second, her lips slightly twitched before she averted her gaze and resumed her work.

I turned back and wrapped my fingers around the cup. Taking into my first sip, I resumed filling down the notes in immaculate details.

An hour later, I was done. Cole had wandered off half an hour ago, answering a phone call and never returning. The coffee shop had quieted down, and Valerie was no longer behind the counter. The buzz of the day had died down, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I took an orange sticky note and rested it on the cover of my notebook before I scribbled down a few words:

"Hey Gingy,

You know that you should be taking this course, and dropping it could affect your next semester badly. So, please, enroll again, I promise to never come near you when inside the class or outside it. I won't disturb you, but don't let what happened between us affect your studies.

I wrote down all the notes for the previous lectures we took. If there is anything you don't find clear, just highlight it in red, leave the notebook here in the same spot, and I will explain it better next time. 

PS. I left you a protein bar next to the notebook, can't have you surviving only on your unhealthy hotdogs during breaks.

Sincerely,
Kidney boy."

With that, I rested the notebook over the counter, the sticky note on top of it, and the protein bar next to it.

Aubrey was watching me all through, she just flashed me a warm smile, to which I returned before I waved her goodbye and left the shop.

•────────•°•❀•°•────────•

Hey!

Sorry for taking so long. Had a long vacation then came back to learn that wattpad is banned in my country. Finally, I found a VPN that works and got my motivation to write and finish up the story.

So, what's your thoughts? :)

See ya soon!