Page 113 of Exposed

Rafe’s beenwith us for a little over a month now, and he’s slowly coming out of his shell.

After knowing Rafe’s past, we removed the locks to his bedroom door before we even brought him home. We want him to feel safe, and Pepper suggested he’d want to know his room wouldn’t lock. She was right. When we got home and showed him his room, the first thing he looked at was the doorknob.

“There’s no lock.If you ever want a lock, let us know. We can add it, but we want you to know you’re free to come and go in the house wherever and whenever you want,” I explained.

Rafe looks at us in surprise.

“I don’t have to stay in my room?” He asks.

No eight-year-old should wonder these things, and I’m sad it was part of Jasmine’s history as well.

“Nope. We’ve got a playroom with toys for you and Simon. You can play in here if you want, but we’d love to have you hang around with us,” Jasmine smiles. “Simon and I will be home with you during the day when Matt is at work.”

Besides that,Rafe was shocked we didn’t ask him to eat in his room, and if his parents weren’t already going to be on trial for child abuse, I’d be paying them a visit to teach them a lesson. No child should have to deal with that shit, and I’m beyond grateful he’s in our care now.

At first anytime we ate, Rafe would ask for more. He’d try to inconspicuously tuck it in napkins to hide away. He hasn’t opened up about why, but we’re guessing his parents starved him or withheld food from him. He’s thin for his age, but he’ll be well-fed with us.

Jasmine didn’t want the meat he was hoarding to go bad, so she turned it into a game. Noah and Hope own a restaurant as one of their investment properties, and they gave us a huge stack of takeout containers. Jasmine fills one for him every meal.

“Let’skeep your snacks in here, okay, Rafe?” She showed him the full takeout container the first time she fixed it. “I want your meat to stay good in the fridge, but we won’t eat it. It’s all yours.”

Rafe is quiet.It’s going to take time for him to open up, just like it did with Jasmine. We’re willing to wait, because we want Rafe to know he’s worthy of love and protection.

He’swarmed up to Shani. Shani seems to know he needs a friend. She’s forever going over to his side and nudging his hands with her nose so he’ll pet her. He usually kneels down and lets her lick his chin. It’s cute to see them bond.

“Want to play outside after dinner?” I ask Rafe.

Rafe looks up, still chewing. He’s only eight, but the wary look in his eyes and his guarded posture make him seem much older.

“Sure,” comes his one-word answer.

Jasmine follows behind Simon as he toddles around. Jasmin’s belly is rounding out more, and I love seeing my baby grow inside her. Makes me extra possessive over her. We loved what Noah and Hope did with letting their babygirl be a surprise at birth. We’re doing the same thing and still calling our baby Peanut until he or she is born.

After we play outside for a while, we go in and get ready for bed. Jasmine and I take turns putting Simon and Rafe to bed. Rafe doesn’t take much work. He huddles himself under his covers and stares at the wall until he falls asleep.

Nightmares plague him at least twice a week. He wakes up drenched in sweat and crying out for his sister. We take turns comforting him. He doesn’t come into our room, and he always apologizes when we go to him. I can’t imagine the visions that play out in his head, but I wish I could erase them. He’s going to play therapy, and the counselor says he’s making progress with talking about his feelings.

Jasmine puts Simon to sleep, then her and I cuddle in bed.

“What do you think Peanut will look like?” Jasmine asks me, same as she’s done ever since she found out she’s pregnant.

“I hope Peanut is like you,” I whisper back, the same answer I always give. Whether it’s a boy or girl, I’d love a kid with her big brown eyes and tenacious attitude.

Jasmine grabs the maternity pillow we bought to support her back, and we fall asleep.

A cracking soundalong with Shani barking wakes me up. I instantly sit up, wondering what made the noise. My worst fears are realized when my ears register smoke alarms going off. And fuck, it’s hot.

Fire.

“Jasmine, wake up.” I shake her shoulder, and she groggily opens her eyes.

“What?” She whispers, then sniffs the air.

“The house is on fire. Get out. Now,” I shout over the sound of the alarms.

“Matt.” Fear and tears swim in her eyes, and I squeeze her shoulders.

Shani jumps around, barking her head off.

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