Page 71 of Her Faithful Protector

“At first, it made no sense at all. I mean,Ididn’t make sense. As far as I knew, I had never been born—I was just placed there in Florida when I was twelve.”

He told me this in Bozeman, and my reaction remains consistent. His description translates to murky surroundings between the dark of night and the complete absence of light inside an airtight box. I won’t say I understand, but I’m sure my vision is exactly the fear and hopelessness he’s sharing with me.

Jack continues, “When I had the nightmare, I used to think what I saw was my parents’ basement. Maybe they were the sick type, a pair of child beaters or something. Other times, I thought it was my mind trying to reconstruct itself out of what’s left in me. Then, my life flipped once again when Sam found me and explained what had happened.”

I expect him to lighten up when he mentions his brother, but the burden seems heavier.

The time is now to unravel the dark place in him, so I ask further, “Did Sam make you remember the bad things after you were taken?”

“Well, things started to make sense, and I could find fragments of reality within that nightmare,” he sighs, shaking hishead painfully. “Did it make things better? Half-revealed visions only serve to confuse. They make nothing better.”

“Did you wish Sam hadn’t found you?”

His eyes flare, not believing my question. But he nods, acknowledging that it’s worth answering. “Maybe I did. Sometimes, I thought I was better off not knowing at all. But… no, no. My brother has been the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He then squeezes my hand. “Before you.”

“A life surrounded by family is better than a life alone. And a life knowing where you came from is better than not having a past, no matter how painful it is. You’ve got to admit it.”

He draws my hand and kisses it. So heartfelt, I can feel his vulnerability in each wrinkle of his lips. He then says, “I don’t know exactly what I usually do when I wake up from that nightmare, but I swear, this morning felt so much worse.”

“What do you think made it worse?”

“I don’t know, Ava. I don’t know,” he mutters. “Maybe I could consider myself lucky that I didn’t find out about the abduction until I was an adult—well, a reasonably stable adult. Otherwise, I can’t even begin to imagine what I would have turned into!”

I hold his hand. “Don’t give up on us.”

“I can’t keep hurting you.” His whisper carries the weight of his remorse. “This will happen again.”

“I won’t let you hurt me,” I assert. “As an immediate solution, when you have your nightmare again, I’ll walk away. Then I’ll come back to you when you’re calm. Then we’ll seek help—you and me, together. Don’t keep it bottled up. Let’s talk about it.”

“Oh, Ava…”

“There’s always a way, Jack,” I assure him, my hand reaching out to touch his shoulder.

He shakes his head, his eyes filled with despair. “Sometimes, I don’t know what to do with your optimism.”

I pull him closer, wrapping my arms around him.

“Please don’t touch me there,” Jack mutters as my hand inadvertently settles on his scar.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Suddenly, Quinton exclaims, “Mama!” his joyful voice cutting through the heaviness. I join him, tickling his belly as Elmo wags his tail in excitement. “Yes. Mama. Now, can you say—” I start, but my words are interrupted as I catch a glimpse of Jack rising.

He stands tall, towering over me. The sound of his uneven breathing reaches my ears as he declares, “Staying with me means you will wait a lifetime to have the children you desperately want. I can never be a real father.”

He turns around, marching like he’s in the barracks.

The room feels suffocating, as if the walls are closing in on me, squeezing the air out. I dismissed his brokenness before, treating it as if it were a passing rain shower rather than a destructive storm. I will still choose to stay with him even though that means Quinton won’t have a sibling. But I can’t lie. His revelation crushes me.

I follow him. “Am I wrong about you, Jack?”

“I don’t know what you think of me right now. But this is who I am, and I’m a danger to you.”

“What has changed? Tell me!’

He moves even further away from me. “I’m gonna get dressed and then take Elmo for a walk. Please, don’t follow me,” he requests. “Keep your phone close. If there’s anything, anything at all, call me. I won’t be far.”

I’m not wrong about him. I’m wrong aboutme. I had this belief that I would be the reason for him to keep fighting andovercome his past. I now realize that it was merely my assumption. I never bothered to ask or really listen to him.

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