Page 129 of Scarred in Silence
* **
We don’t say a word on the drive back.
The silence between us isn’t heavy. It’s light. Cleansing. Like the sky opened just to rinse the poison from my skin.
My forehead rests against the car window as familiar roads blur past. The setting sun casts long shadows across the fields, but I don’t flinch. I don’t fold.
I exhale—slow, long. It doesn’t catch in my throat like it used to.
Lucien’s hand slips over the console and wraps around mine. His grip is firm, grounding, and possessive. I crave it. It feelsreal.
“They’re nothing,” I murmur, still staring out at the fields.
“I know,” he says softly.
“They’vealwaysbeen nothing. I just… didn’t want to believe it.”
His thumb brushes over my knuckles. “Belief dies slower than love.”
I huff a laugh—shaky, but genuine. When did he become so poetic? Oh, probably whenever he started writing himself notes. I laugh internally.
When we pull into the driveway, the house feels less like a prison and more like… space. Space to breathe. Space tobe. I step out before the engine fully shuts off, letting the sweet air fill my lungs and sweep through my hair.
I take off my jacket and let it fall to the ground. I don’t care. I walk barefoot through the gravel, across the grass, up the front steps like I’m walking into a new version of myself.
Inside, Lucien follows without a word.
I walk straight to the living room and sink onto the couch, pulling my legs under me. He stands near the door like he’s unsure of what I need.
“I feel different,” I say.
His brow furrows.
I meet his gaze. “Not silenced. Not numb. Just… light.”
Lucien walks over and crouches in front of me, resting his arms on my knees. “You did that.”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. I did.”
A laugh escapes my lips. It bursts out before I can stop it. And then I’m laughing harder, breathless and half-hysterical.
He watches me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Sorry,” I say between gasps. “It’s just… I finally told them. Everything. I let it out, and it didn’t kill me.”
“No,” Lucien murmurs. “It made you impossible to ignore.”
I reach out and run my fingers through his hair.
“You didn’t have to defend me like that.”
“I didn’t have to,” he echoes. “I wanted to.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “I thought it would hurt more.”
“What?”
“Saying goodbye to people who were supposed to love me.”
