Page 42 of Silent Dust
He saw her curled up on the bed, trembling, tears streaking down her face. Her shoulders shook with each quiet sob, and his heart clenched painfully at her vulnerability. She looked so fragile—more so than he’d ever seen her—lost in her own pain, hiding behind the covers.
Stepping softly, he eased himself onto the bed, not quite sure how to approach her—whether to speak or just sit quietly. Finally, with slow, tentative movements, he gently laid down beside her, not touching her yet, just close enough to feel her presence.
He reached out a hand, hesitant, and gently placed it on her back, somewhere between reassurance and respect for her space. “Flora,” he whispered softly, voice strained with emotion. “I’m here. I don’t want to make things worse. I just… I want to hold you.”
He waited, breath held, watching her trembling form. Carefully, he moved closer, turning slightly to face her, sensing her body’s tension—an unanswered cry for help. “Please,” he whispered again, voice nearly a breath. “Tell me what’s going on. I don’t understand. I just want you to know I’m here. I love you. Whatever you’re feeling, whatever you need—I’m not leaving.”
As he wrapped his arms around her, he couldn’t help but notice how much he missed her, how much he craved the intimacy they once shared. It had been two long months since they had been able to be alone for any lovemaking, and the longing he felt for her was palpable. The way her body felt against his, the softness of her skin, and the warmth of her presence had always been a source of comfort and desire. But now, he knew her body wasn’t ready for that yet, and it frustrated him to feel that edge of longing without the ability to act on it.
Stephan held Flora close, feeling her trembling body pressed against him as her sobs gradually ebbed. He could sense the storm of emotions still swirling beneath her skin—the fear, the confusion, the deep-seated uncertainty that had taken root in her heart. He wanted to offer her comfort, to be the steady presence she desperately needed.
Just as he thought she might finally find some solace in his embrace, her voice broke through the quiet—soft, fragile, but piercing as a shard of glass.
“Am I not enough for you anymore?”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut, coming from nowhere, out of left field. He froze, his heart pounding harder. His grip tightened instinctively around her, as if to hold her in place, to shield her from her own doubts. For a moment, he just stared at her tear-streaked face, searching for a sign of misunderstanding, of pain, of something he could fix.
“What? What do you mean?” His voice was thick with emotion, trembling slightly. His mind raced as he tried to grasp the depth of her question. Did she think he was pulling away? Did she believe she wasn’t enough? The last thing he wanted was to reinforce her fears.
He gently brushed her damp hair back from her face, trying to be both tender and reassuring. “Flora,” he whispered softly, voice trembling with sincerity, “you’re everything to me. I don’t want you to ever think that. You are more than enough.” His thumb lightly stroked her cheek, grounding himself in her pain. “I love you—more than I can say. You are my world. That hasn’t changed.”
He paused, searching her tearful eyes, desperately hoping she could see his truth. “Whatever’s been going on… whatever’s made you feel like this, I want to understand. I want to fix this, but I need you to tell me what’s inside your heart. Don’t hide from me.”
Slowly, through her tears and hiccups, Flora hesitated, then finally found her voice. Her trembling fingers brushed at her cheeks, and she looked away for a moment, ashamed of how raw she felt. But Stephan’s steady gaze urged her to continue.
“I… I’ve been scared,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion. “Ever since… the mugging. I can’t stop thinking about it. The feeling of helplessness—that I just ran. I froze… all that training, gone in an instant. I thought if I just ran, if I protected the kids—if I kept everything safe—I was doing the right thing. It was my way of trying to be strong for all of us.”
Her breath hitched, and she clutched her hands to her chest. “Then there were the texts… the threats. I ignored them, thinking I could handle it. That it was just… some stupid prank or maybe someone trying to scare me. But it’s not. It’s real. And I never told you because I didn’t want you to worry. I thought if Ijust kept quiet, I could keep you safe—protect you from knowing everything that’s been closing in on me.”
Her voice broke again, her tears streaming freely now. “And the divorce papers… I thought I had to do it. That if I signed them, it’d make everything easier. Like I was finally taking control. But I wasn’t. I was just running away again—afraid. Afraid of what I might lose, of not being enough for you, or for anyone.”
She choked on a sob. “I’ve always tried to be the strong one. The badass Navy SEAL’s wife who can handle anything. I don’t know how I let everything spiral like this. I thought I was protecting you—protecting us—from the chaos outside, from the fears inside me,” she finished breathlessly.
Her voice faded into silence, and she looked down, ashamed of her vulnerability. “I guess I’m not so tough after all. Just… a scared, broken woman who thought she could keep everyone safe by pretending everything was okay. And I realized… I’m not.”
Her tears shimmered in the low light, her trembling hand reaching out hesitantly to grasp his. “I don’t want to be this person anymore, Stephan. I want to believe in us again, but I don’t even know where to start.”
She closed her eyes, bowing her head as if bracing for rejection. “You deserve better than this. Someone stronger. Not a mess like me. I understand if I’m not enough for you anymore.”
Stephan listened intently, his heart aching as she poured out her fears. When she finally fell silent, eyes cast downward, he reached out gently, cupping her tear-streaked face. He wanted her to see the truth—the truth he’d always known but maybe hadn’t expressed enough.
Stephan’s voice was steady but full of tenderness as he gently reached out, cupping her tear-streaked face. “Flora, you are more than enough for me,” he said softly. “I wasn’t thinkingabout anyone or anything else while I was in the shower—I swear. I just didn’t want to push you before your body was ready. But I am always hot for you. My body craves you.”
He paused, searching her face, wanting her to really see the truth—something he’d thought but maybe hadn’t said enough. “You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to be everything. I love you—for all your scars, for your fears, for the beautiful, brave woman I wake up beside every day.”
With a soft, teasing smile, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and whispered, “You know,” he said gently, “for my badass wife who’s been protecting us from everything, I think you’ve earned a medal—or at least a vacation.” His grin softened, his voice warm with pride. “I’ve always thought you were the strongest person I know—making your way through medical school, raising three kids, all while I was off saving the world." He chuckled lightly. “And here I am—just trying to catch up, one muddy deployment at a time.”
He squeezed her hand tenderly. “You’ve been my rock, Flora. And I promise, we’re in this together. Whatever storms come next, we face them side by side—stronger, even if we don’t feel it right now.”
As they drifted off to sleep, Flora whispered into the night, “First thing tomorrow, those divorce papers burn.”
Bear heard the comment and smiled, a wave of gratitude washing over him. Quietly, with a deep breath, Stephan made a silent vow to himself. When the time was right, he would look into finding her a therapist—someone she could trust, who might help her unpack the fears, the trauma, the guilt she’d been carrying alone. He knew she was too proud to ask for that kind of help, but neither of them could face this alone.
He pressed a soft kiss to her temple, feeling her warmth against him. No matter how dark things seemed right now, they would find their way. Together.
27 - FLORA
Flora slipped outof bed on tiptoe, careful not to wake Stephan. The room still basked in the soft glow of dawn, pale light skimming over familiar shapes and casting gentle shadows. Her heart fluttered with a mix of excitement and nerves—today felt different. She wanted to do something small, something meaningful, to show Stephan just how much his steady presence had meant during these dark times.
