a place we know| ✓

eighty

A lump formed in her throat. Looking up, she gazed at all the faces across from her, equally as heartbroken as she was. But there was comfort in that. These were people who understood—no matter how much Gunner did to help her, she felt as though he didn't really get it. The pain was unimaginable. It seemed so simple for people to tell her to 'heal' and 'move on' and 'forget about Michael' without understanding how deep this cut was. It changed things forever. It changed her forever.

It took something.

"It haunted me for months," she said. "Everywhere I went, I'd see him. Everything I did, he'd be there. Whenever I was with my boyfriend, I'd see him. For so long I couldn't even live because I was always so scared that he'd find me again."

"Did he ever find you, Audrey?" Caroline questioned and a moist film glazed her blue eyes.

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "Gunner was always there to protect me. I owe him everything. He was the one who encouraged me to report my rapist to the cops. But we also had our problems. Our sex life tanked because I was always hesitant to do anything with him. Sometimes I forced myself to, but... but we talked about it and I told him how I felt. Things got better over time."

The room burst into applause, and Audrey couldn't suppress the proud grin curling her lips. "One day, Gunner and I were on our way into the building after dropping our daughter off at school and the cops had him handcuffed. That was honestly one of the best days of my life. I was so relieved. He'd never hurt anyone ever again."

It was a beautiful conclusion to her story. Everything snapped into place. She was married to the man she loved, they were starting their own family, and both of them were on the road to a magnificent recovery.

"You've come so far, Audrey!" Caroline cheered. "You're so strong for not letting what happened to you limit your potential. I'm so glad you found the courage to make yourself happy."

"Agreed," Jacob put in, flashing her a smile. "What happened to you doesn't define you."

Audrey beamed at Jacob—although his wounds weren't as recent as hers, his childhood was what shaped him. Abuse from a family member was a different kind of pain, one she wouldn't ever understand, nonetheless, was glad he overcame it.

"I never really talked about it before," she told the group, wiping her tear-stained cheeks with the back of her hand. "I've brought it up with Gunner, but we never took it seriously. He always told me it would get better and that would be the end. I also didn't want to bother him about it; he was already going through so much on his own. But everything's gotten a lot easier now. Life's been treating us alright. I can look past everything, I can take care of my daughter, and I even found a job and started working on my GED. So... yeah, I'm happy."

"Well, maybe when you go home, you can tell him exactly what you told us," Caroline suggested. She patted Audrey's shoulder. "Let him know how much it hurt you. Talk to him from a genuine place."

They didn't know her husband was in rehab and she wanted to keep it that way, so she nodded, grateful for the advice. "I will."

"How would you—"

"Sorry I'm late," a gruff, disembodied voice interrupted Caroline mid-speech.

Audrey's muscles stiffened. A burst of heat fluttered in her gut, and protectively, she caressed her stomach as if it would keep her baby from harm. Then a flash of cold air fanned her face, freezing her expression in shock and fear.

"No worries, Tucker. We're happy you showed up anyway."

Tucker? Tucker Lowe?

The moment their eyes connected was the moment her heart failed her. All his toxic words, all his violent actions, all his degrading behaviour caught her like a fish in a net that struggled to break free. He halted mid-step and gaped at her, his ex-girlfriend, baffled and anxious and guilty and angry simultaneously. She noted how physically he had changed—he'd cut his hair close to his scalp, which accentuated his deep eyes and hallow planes of his face. He looked more domineering, more intense, more terrifying.