Chapter Eighteen

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Kri and his people are all huddled around large air screens and a few actual physical systems. Codes scroll through them and in the air as I sit across from them on a large arm chair, worrying my lip and keeping my eyes locked on Kri. His brows are furrowed, his cupid's bow prominent as he concentrates on combing through the whole system to ensure that nothing had been slipped into it while the attack happened. I had heard Kri giving this possibility earlier that despite having attacked the main door's locking system, they could have slipped a bug into a completely different area, using the main attack as a guise to distract.

I consider this whole situation, thinking about how the attack was specifically to make us feel unsafe in our own homes. Perhaps even edge us out of here. But why? What purpose was being served? Yes, the house was extravagant, but it wasn't something that Jré couldn't have afforded himself, especially after having sold some very confidential material out in the black market. What was the actual point of these attacks? Why was he messing with us?

The picture just didn't fit in my head.

I looked up when I felt Kri's gaze on me. I could tell he had noticed the furrow between my brows and had a question of concern in his gaze. I smiled softly, letting him know I was fine. I take a deep breath and stand up, suddenly wanting to keep my hands and mind busy. I head over to our room and bring my laptop, sitting down on the same arm chair I had vacated and attempting to write. It took me a long time to focus and for most of that time I was starting at the screen, while plotting in my head and jotting down some key plot points and referring to my previous draft while casting distracted glances at my husband.

It was late by the time everyone left and Kri rubbed a hand down his face, looking ... tired. My heart tugged and pulled and I stood up and walked over to him.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

He just releases a breath and looks at me. When he sees the concern on my face he just smiles softly, wrapping one hand gently around the nape of my neck and rubbing his thumb along my jaw.

"Just thinking."

"What?" I ask.

"Whether it would be good to have a more objective opinion on the coding to ensure there are no gaps I've left."

I tilt my head, "Do you feel you have gaps in your safety protocols?" I asked him.

He shakes his head, no.

"Then, why?" I ask.

He drops his arm and lets out a breath, "I rarely doubt my work because of how thorough I like to be, but in this situation I don't mind this doubt and we may actually have someone that we can ask."

I raise my brows.

"Kren." Kri says.

The new Cyber Crime Specialist and twin brother to Fré. My brows furrow and I nod, because it makes sense why he considered asking Kren's opinion.

"What does Ar say?" I ask.

Kri grinned, "Ar is the face of the company, his skill set is entirely different from what I need for this."

I nod, stepping closer and rubbing Kri's arm.

"Do whatever you need."

We're quiet for a bit, before Kri's eyes look up to mine, hot ice.

"The minute you feel unsafe, tell me." He says, "The second you want to leave, go away, anywhere, we can. I don't need to fight this now or in this way. I don't care about finding the perpetrator as much as I care about what you want."

Something warms inside me, "Let's stay. Let's stay and fight."

I didn't just mean the threat looming above us, but also the blooming creature raising its head within me. The reason for all the night palpitations, the breathlessness.

Maybe Kri perceived my meaning, maybe he didn't. But either way something gleams in my husband's eyes and it looked a lot like pride.

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I wake from my sleep, the feeling the beat of my heart pounding at my head. My throat was closing and I shut my eyes to focus, bring my breathing back into control. I count and match my breathing to it.

Eventually my heartbeat evens and my throat opens. I open my eyes, my lashes wet, angry and frustrated.

This was why whoever it was attacked our home. Homes are where someone feels safe. Attack someone's refuge and there's no where they can feel safe no matter where they go.

I'd been tracking my progress (or lack of). Everyday I work to learn to protect myself I'm fine. On the days I slack off or we're too busy to work as long as we usually do, I have these ... nightly palpitations As if my body is warning me that I need to push harder.

Sleep was a friend and a foe, because I seek to rest after long exhausting days, but my mind doesn't let me fall asleep. Perhaps the idea of being unconscious to any possible threat...

I look beside me and as I expected, Kri wasn't by my side. Often when Kri isn't around is when my body wakes me up, because it means to my mind perhaps that I don't have a partner to watch my back while I rest.

I run my hands over my face, exhausted, seconds from crying. Damp hair sticks to my forehead and the back of my neck and I'm just so tired.

I wish my brain would quieten. Even just for one minute. Just for one minute.

A sob racks through me and I squeeze my eyes shut.

No. I take a deep breath.

As messed up as it was, I knew this was my mind's way of protecting me. As maladaptive as it was. I had read up lots on mental health and anxiety, watched a million videos of people talking about their experience and the ways they cope. I'd even tried adopting some of the calming techniques I'd read about. Sometimes they worked.. sometimes they didn't.

It has been a long month since the last attack on the house.

Kri worked through the nights often, struggling with sleeplessness as much as I did. Battling his own demons and anxieties. We were two sides of the same coin. He drowned in his work in action to stave off his anxiety and I needed to take time away to think and talk to myself.

I'm strong. I can do this. Just because I'm scared doesn't make me anything less.

I repeat more affirmations to myself, waiting for my heartbeat that was mildly jumpy here and there to beat without irregularities. Strength drains from my bones and I wonder for the millionth time how my mind could think that this would help me?

A sad thought enters my mind. Was my mind so weak it couldn't handle a little bit of stress?

I vigorously shake the thought aside. My internal mental health struggle has nothing to do with how weak or strong I am. Nothing. I am strong despite everything. Even when I'm weak, I'm strong.

I clench my fingers and squeeze my eyes closed.

I'm strong.

I'm strong.

I'm strong.

I can do this.

I can stand. I can take a shower.

I will relax. And I will sleep.

And I will do all this without breaking down.

One step at a time.

I open my eyes. And I stand.

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Dedicating this chapter to anyone who has suffered inside themselves, who fought their war alone, who are still fighting their war.

You will win this.

You are strong.

You can break and still be strong.

You're not defined by the moments you fall, but all those times you rise. ❤️❤️❤️

You're more than those dark moments, you're bigger than what your mind thinks you are. ❤️

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