Thirty One.

Willow

My heart races as he holds me. I was desperate to run. To escape the chaos. But he holds onto me, keeping me locked against his chest. Letting me feel his warmth until I mould myself against him.

His fingers comb through my long hair while murmuring “You are safe, little wolf.” He does it over and over, even when my heart calms he continues with the slow movements and those five simple little words.

Safe? How could one person make me feel safe when I had spent years constantly looking over my shoulder?

The office door creaks open and I feel him shake his head. A warning to the person who wanted to speak to him.

“Willow, I want you to see a therapist.”

I push myself upright to stare at him. He cups my face and runs a thumb over the dried tear tracks on my cheek.

“You want me to talk to someone?”

“Yes.”

It was such a human thing, I’m surprised he even suggested it.

“There’s a therapist in my town.”

“You’re serious?” He constantly surprised me. Was there a reason why he had one he