Page 34 of Requiem
I take a steadying breath and decide what I’m going to do. I glance at Micah, then at Rafe. “Go,” I whisper.
Micah stiffens. “Emma—”
“Please,” I say again, sharper now.
Rafe exhales once, then pulls Micah back with him toward the door. His icy gaze clashes with mine, saying,I’m right here if you need me.The moment it shuts, Jude exhales shakily, relief washing over him. He sits on the bed, exhaustion tugging him down. And I just stand there, staring at him, at the gun on the floor between us.At what he almost did.
“Can I sit with you?” I ask softly.
He doesn’t answer. His gaze drifts over me, very briefly. His jaw tightens slightly, and his fingers twitch.
“I won’t touch you,” I add quickly, keeping my voice calm. “I just want to sit. That’s all.”
A long second passes. Then, he nods. But he clamps his hands together in his lap, squeezing them hard enough that his knuckles whiten. He's trying to restrain himself.
Both relief and trepidation twist through me, but I don’t show it. I just move carefully to the edge of the bed and sit down, leaving several feet of space between us. One foot is still planted firmly on the ground, in case I need to get out his reach. Because everything about him feels like his body is constantly wanting to either strike or shove away. It’s so painfullyunlikeJude that I’m having trouble keeping from crying.
But I fold my hands in my own lap to keep them still, and silence stretches between us. It’s not comfortable...but it’s not violent or mean, either.
Then, finally, he breaks the silence. “You shouldn’t be here. You don’t understand.”
“Then help me,” I say, my voice softer now. “Help me to understand.”
A bitter, rough laugh slips out of him.“You’rethe problem,” he says, like it’s something he’s been forced to believe. Because he doesn’t say with extreme conviction. More like…hesitation.
My chest tightens, but I don’t look away.
“That’s what he said,” Jude continues, his gaze locking onto mine for a split second before looking away again. “Thatyouwere the reason that I kept hurting.”
I inhale slowly, grounding myself. “I know.”
“You don’t,” he snaps immediately. “You don’t know what he did—what he made me do when I thought about you.” He pauses, breathless. “When I…when I looked at your face.”
It feels like I’m being choked all over again, but I hold my ground. “You know that I am not the reason you were hurting, right?”
His expression twists, pain cutting through the anger. His body jerks, like the memory itself is punishing him. “Yeah.”
I don’t move closer, or push. I just sit there with him. Because that’s what this is going to be. I can’t fix him immediately, even if I want to more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. I can only sit here as a woman who loves him and who won’t give up on him. I hate that he can barely look at me for a few seconds because of what Alexei did to him.
His breathing starts to even out again, slowly, like the worst of this episode is passing.
“Why did you hold the gun to your head, Jude?” I ask, my voice soft.
He’s staring at the bed between us. “I can’t look at your face.” His throat works as he swallows. “It’s like I hate you, but I don’t. And I…I don’t trust myself around you right now. My mind hurts. It fuckinghurts. I feel like I can’t control it anymore. If I can't live a normal life…I don't want to live.”
“I'm sorry,” I whisper. Even if I want to say more, I don’t. I let out a breath as minutes pass. Or seconds. I don’t know exactly since time doesn’tfeel real in here. Eventually, I push myself to stand, careful not to startle him. His gaze flicks back to me, tracking the movement, but he doesn’t react.
“I’ll come back,” I tell him. “Remember, you’resafe. I won’t hurt you. Alexei won’t, either. He’snothere. No one is going to punish you for anything.”
He doesn’t answer. But what he is doing is shaking and sweating. His body has looked like he’s been in pain this entire time, allowing just enough energy to acknowledge us. But I feel like the moment I leave, the withdrawals are going to drag him under again. He's keeping it together for me.
I step back toward the door, my hand finding the handle again. I pause there for just a second, looking at him one more time before I finally slip out of the room. And when the door clicks softly behind me, my hand presses to my sternum.
Calm. I did it. He wasn’t as violent as before. He knows me. He knows Micah. Good.
Micah, Rafe, and Heather are there to greet me immediately, scanning my face and checking how I am processing.
“You okay?” Heather asks, gently grabbing my arms.
