Sienna

The ride home from the restaurant was suffocatingly silent with the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between us, and I didn't try to quell it because, honestly, I didn't know what to say.

Every glance I stole at Tristan revealed the tight set of his jaw and the furrow of his brow, a clear indication of his simmering bitterness.

At some point, I just gave up and stared out the window, wondering if I should've just shut up instead. But it was the truth, wasn't it? Maybe it might have sounded a little selfish knowing what he had been through but these were feelings I couldn't deny forever.

The thought of starting a real family with Tristan appealed to me in ways that it shouldn't have. He would make a great father if he ever decided to give himself a chance. I knew he would.

As we finally pulled up to the house, Phillip, our reliable driver, opened my door with a polite nod. Stepping out onto the gravel driveway, I couldn't shake the unease that gripped me. When I took a few steps forward and noticed Tristan wasn't coming along, I stopped and turned. He remained seated in the car, his gaze fixed ahead.

"A-aren't you coming?" I willed myself to ask.

"I'm going back to the office to get some work done," his voice was devoid of its usual warmness, the words clipped and distant.

My throat felt tight. I swallowed. "Tristan, if it's about what happened, I—"

"It's fine, Sienna." He cut me gruffly, finally turning to look at me. "Just don't wait up, I might be late."

My heart sank at his abrupt dismissal. It was clear he was trying to avoid me, this was his defense mechanism. I wanted to reach out, to bridge the chasm that had seemingly grown between us during the car ride, but his stony demeanor left me rooted to the spot.

Phillip offered a sympathetic nod as he shut the door and took to the driver's seat and as the sound of the car engine faded into the distance, I was left standing alone on the doorstep, the weight of his unspoken frustrations heavy on my shoulders.

There was a rift between us that needed to be addressed, but for now, I could only watch in silence as he retreated into the dusk.

***

When night came, I couldn't sleep. I was ensnared in a restless state, unable to find solace in the sanctuary of sleep so I retreated to the living room and stayed awake in the dimly lit space, waiting for Tristan to return.

We needed to talk about this. Running away was never the solution. But as the minutes stretched into hours, the silence of the house seemed to grow heavier and so did the ache in my heart.

Nestled into the plush armchair, I wrapped myself in a blanket, its soft fabric a feeble barrier against the chill that seemed to seep into my bones.

Time continued to stretch endlessly in the silence of the night, each passing minute a painful reminder of Tristan's absence. I missed him. I wanted him back. I needed him here. I listened intently for the sound of his return, my heart racing with anticipation at the thought of his familiar presence and scent filling the empty spaces of the house.

The clock ticking sound taunted me. How long more did I have to wait? Was he not coming back home to me?

When the elevator finally chimed and heavy footsteps approached, I jolted from the edge of sleep and turned.

There he was, standing in the doorway, his silhouette outlined against the soft glow of the foyer light, his expression inscrutable in the dimness.

"Why are you still awake?" His rough voice cut through the silence like a blade, laden with exhaustion and a hint of curiosity.

I hesitated for a moment, the weight of his gaze bearing down on me like a heavy burden. "I...I was waiting for you," I confessed, getting up.

"I told you not to wait for me."

"How could I go to sleep knowing you're mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you, Sienna, I'm just..." He expelled a breath, running a hand through his tousled hair. "I have a lot on my mind right now, okay? The party is tomorrow and there's still a lot of things I need to put in place."

"You're running away."

"I'm not."

"So this isn't about the fact that I told you I wanted to have your babies knowing you already said you wouldn't have any?"

"Sienna." He stopped himself and squeezed his fist. His breathing grew labored and for a fleeting moment, it seemed as though he might turn away. "I can't do this right now."

But before he could retreat, a surge of desperation propelled me forward, my steps quick and determined as I crossed the room to stand before him.

"I'm sorry," the words spilled from my lips in a fervent rush.

He cursed underneath his breath and tried to sidestep me but I opened my arms wide, blocking any route of escape.

"Christ, Let me off, Sienna."

"No. I didn't mean to be selfish with my words, okay, I know you've been through a lot. I'm sorry, I was just caught up in the moment."

He stopped trying to get away but just stared at me, looking hard-faced, and my heart started hammering as I waited for his response which didn't seem like it was coming any time soon.

I dropped my hands and took a bold step closer to him. "I love you, Tristan..."

His gaze went soft at that and I could see a flicker of emotion dancing in the depths of his eyes. He deflated. "You hurt me, Sienna."

"I know, I'm sorry." Slowly, almost tentatively, I reached out to envelop him in an embrace. "Just forget everything that happened. Forget what I said. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

His arms remained stiff by his side as he breathed in deeply. "What if..." He stopped and swallowed. I raised my head from his chest and looked at him. "What if...I can't give you what you want," his voice was barely above a whisper, his breath stirring the tendrils of hair that framed my face. "Will you leave me for someone who can?"

What? I shook my head swiftly. "No, never. I'm mated with you forever, Tristan, you're just enough for me."

"Do you mean that?"

"I swear by it," I said with firmness. "You have my heart and my body. You have my soul, Tristan. I couldn't even stop loving you if I wanted. You've made it impossible."

His eyes dilated. "God, Sienna. Do you really mean all that?"

"With everything I have."

He groaned and finally hugged me back. "God you're a handful."

I smiled and relaxed into him.

He kissed my temple, his lips breaking a smile. "But I love you regardless."

Seeing him smile made me so happy it felt like I would float away. I'd longed for that all day. "I love you too, Tristan, I love you so much."

***

That night, Tristan had a nightmare.

The stillness of the night was shattered by his harsh breathing and tormented cries that jolted me awake to the sight of him writhing on the bed, drenched with sweat, his legs tangled with the rumpled sheets.

"Stop...please...I'm sorry."

Breathing heavily, I sat up on my heels beside him and called his name. "Tristan,"

"It hurts!" He jerked violently, his body straining and arching off the bed. "No, it hurts!"

My heart twisted to the point of pain. This had to be the worst I'd seen him. I couldn't let this go on. Locked in indecision, the room seemed to close in on me, shadows dancing ominously as I battled my own panic. His vulnerability struck a chord deep within me and I felt an overwhelming need to protect him, to wake him from whatever terror was gripping his subconscious mind but I hesitated because I was unsure of how to ease his suffering and I was...scared that he would—

"You sick piece of shit! I said stop!"

God, no. Dismissing all thoughts, I reached out to touch his clammy chest. "Tristan, please wake up,"

"No, stop!"

I shook him slightly, my heart breaking. "It's just a dream, Tristan, you're not—"

"Don't you fucking touch me!" He hissed out, his hand shooting out from nowhere and clamping around my wrist with a strength and force that startled me.

Pain flared. "Tristan..." I whispered, my voice shaky with tears. It hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain I saw etched on his face. "Tristan, it's me, Sienna. Please come back to me."

But he wasn't listening. His breathing grew heavier and panicked and his grip tightened, his finger digging into my skin. I tried to pull away in that moment but his grip was strong and unyielding and sucking the blood dry from my veins. "Tristan stop," I begged, wiggling my hand and struggling to get away but he didn't yield, he wasn't here.

Tears smeared the corner of my eyes. Overwhelmed, I yelled. "Tristan! Stop! You're hurting me!"

Stilling abruptly, his eyes snapped open, wide and wild, and he instantly let go of my hand as if he had been holding a burning coal.

I whimper broke past my lips as I instantly grabbed my burning wrist. God, it hurt.

"Sienna?" He whispered, his voice still tinged with the remnants of his nightmare.

"It's me," I breathed, my voice shaking, relieved that he recognized me.

For a brief moment, his eyes locked onto mine, searching for something, perhaps reassurance that he was no longer trapped in the clutches of his nightmare, then his consciousness returned, followed by realization. His eyes dropped to my hand. He inhaled sharply. "Sienna" He grabbed it, his hands trembling. "Did I hurt you?"

I shook my head and seized my hand away from his gaze. "It's fine."

"No, it's not. I'm so sorry," he choked, starting to tremble again. "Sienna, I didn't mean to..."

Before he could finish, I pulled him into a tight hug, wrapping my arms around his trembling form. "Shh, it's okay," I murmured, my voice scratchy as tears welled up in my eyes. "All that matters is that you're here with me now. Safe."

He let out a shuddering breath, and as if by instinct, his arms found their way around me, pulling me close. His face nestled against my hair, his breath hot against my skin when he said. "Why me?" His shoulders shook. "When does it end?"

I felt the dampness of his tears against my shoulder and in that moment my heart broke into a million pieces for him. "Shh," I cried. "It's okay, You'll be fine."

His grip on me tightened as if he never wanted to let go. "Don't leave me, Sienna."

"I would never," I promised, the sob I struggled to hold breaking free. "Never..." I said, holding him to me, connected and close.

***

As morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow over the breakfast table, I found myself lost in thought, the remnants of last night's turmoil still weighing heavily on my mind and I hadn't realized I had been absentmindedly picking at my food until Tristan called out my name.

"Sienna, is everything alright?" He asked me with concern, his brow furrowed in worry.

I dropped my fork and forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil swirling within me. "I'm fine, just a bit tired," I replied, though the words tasted like ash on my tongue.

But Tristan, ever perceptive, saw through my facade. He reached across the table, his hand resting gently on mine. "You haven't been eating," he observed quietly. "Is something bothering you?"

"No."

"Are you sure? You can talk to me, it's what I'm here for." His voice was gentle yet probing. He wasn't going to give up until I gave him an answer.

"Alright fine, there is something bothering me."

"What is it, angel."

"It's about your nightmare..." I started. "It shook me, Tristan."

He nodded, his expression softening with understanding. "I'm sorry you had to witness that. I promise it won't happen again, it's nothing you need to worry about."

But his words did little to assuage my concerns. The memory of his anguish lingered like a specter, haunting the edges of my consciousness.

"Have you..." I began haltingly. "Have you ever considered... therapy?"

His reaction was immediate. He let go of my hand in shock. "Therapy?" he echoed back, a flicker of discomfort and disbelief crossing his features.  "You think I need therapy?"

I bit my lip. I knew it wouldn't be easy for him to confront the demons of his past and unravel the tangled knots of pain and fear that had bound him for so long, but I also knew that he didn't have to face them alone. Together, we could find a path toward healing, one step at a time. "I think it can help."

His brows tightened. "Because what? I'm out of control?"

"No." I shook my head immediately. "You're not, don't say that. You're not out of control, Tristan, it's just a suggestion."

"Well thank you for your suggestion but I don't need it, I'm fine."

But his words only fueled my resolve. "Are you?" I pressed gently, my heart aching with concern. "Last night wasn't just a one-time occurrence and we both know it. If this persists, it might be dangerous for both of us."

"Are you scared of me?"

"No, no, but I'm—" I exhaled in a rush. "I love you, Tristan; every part of you, but I can't just stand by and watch you continue to suffer. I think seeking professional help might be good."

His defenses rose, his gaze hardening. "Therapy doesn't work, Sienna. I've been there before. Those people don't cure shit."

"Things are different now. Try modern therapy. It might—" 

"I said I'm fine, Sienna," he snapped, his voice tinged with frustration. "I don't need someone poking around in my head, digging up memories I'd rather forget. Stop it."

The tension between us crackled like electricity, a silent battle of wills playing out across the breakfast table. I could see the pain etched in the lines of his face, the fear lurking behind his stubborn facade. But I couldn't let him push me away, not when I knew that confronting his demons was the only way to set him free.

"Tristan, please," I pleaded, reaching out to him across the divide. "I'm not asking you to do this alone. We can find someone together, someone who can help you heal."

But he recoiled from my touch, his eyes flashing with defiance. "I don't need your help," he spat. "I'll deal with this my own way."

Just then, a heavy knock sounded and Ryder entered the hall, looking ever stoic and unlikable. "Sir." He called, seeming to sense the tension between us.

"Right," Tristan said, rising from the table. He looked at me as he wiped his hand. "Today is going to be a very long day for both of us." His tone was so dry it made my stomach turn. "Stefan will come and get you later." He crossed around the table to me and kissed me on my temple. "I love you, princess, goodbye."

And with that, he walked out of the room alongside Ryder, leaving me alone with the echoes of our argument ringing in my ears.