Taking You HOME | EN

Chapter 85 - The Cage

"Dylan, you've always moaned about what you're going through. But do you know what it's like not to hear from the man you love when he could be lying in the dirt on the other side of the world? No messages, no phone calls, no damn letters or postcards. When I called you, you were annoyed. Shit, what do you know about the loneliness, about the countless nights I cried myself to sleep alone. When the rain knocks on the window panes, the thunder rumbles, and Liam comes to bed with me ... but there is no father there to drive away the monsters and the fear.

Nobody was interested in the dark side. And it was frowned upon to talk about it. About the helplessness, because one day she felt like nothing more than a mistress or an annoying appendage. Like a weekend family, two or three times a year, who were expected to play the perfect, grateful family.

"Being a soldier's wife was so honorable, so important... I was only allowed to be proud. Smile, nod, don't complain. How could I dare, while you were fighting for your country, to keep us all safe?"

'Be grateful,' that phrase ruled her life like a cage of cold steel.

Eve drew in a shaky breath as the pain constricted her chest and throat. Anyone who claimed that mental suffering could not be compared to physical suffering had never been unable to breathe because it tore your heart and soul apart.

"I WAS proud of you! I loved you, and I wanted to be understanding, Dylan. So I eagerly awaited your return. I tried to be a good wife and mother. I've always put everything on hold, including myself, to the point where I broke."

"Don't try to blame me now, Kay!" Dylan rumbled, taking a step towards her. I did everything for us! I married you when you got pregnant and gave you a new family when yours left you here! I did...« Dylan's voice began to tremble, and he ran a hand through his brown hair to hide his tension—to no avail.

"Shit! I never asked for more than a little ... Peace and quiet when I get home! Damn it, Kay, I fight all the time. I always have to be on my guard, ALWAYS! We must search for shards in our food; we always have to expect a bullet, and we won't return! And when I finally get home... I just want to rest! Is it really too much to ask to put a hot meal on the table and make this time as pleasant as possible for me?"

He grabbed her upper arm, and everything in her screamed to run away like a rabbit from the hunter's snout. But instead, she looked up to face the lion.

She would have liked to grab and shake him to wake him up.

"Are you actually listening to yourself, Dylan?" she asked instead, trying to sound calm even though this man was stirring up everything inside her. He was tearing open wounds, again and again, that simply couldn't heal. "What you asked for was a hotel you could come to, and I was your staff! A chambermaid to tidy up for you. A cook to prepare your meals and a nanny to keep your son away from you so he wouldn't be a burden during your precious time at home!" she hissed.

"What a load of shit! I didn't even say that!« he huffed back. "I didn't ALWAYS want this bloody drama waiting for me at home!"

Clattering inside her, the first stones rolled down the hill, and Eve slapped Dylan's hand off her arm. "The DRAMA at home?!« she gasped, her fingers twitching with the desire to slap him for this, which he had deserved for far too long. "I held your hand every time you were exhausted from your missions! When you robbed me of what little sleep I had with your nightmares before I got up to make you breakfast or feed the baby, I held you and helped my brave soldier through the night! I went to every family party alone with Liam and protected you!" Her whole body shook under the force of the emotions that washed over her.

Every time she was about to break down, she felt ashamed—in front of herself and the others—just for the thought of giving up. How could she dare? How ridiculous were her problems, worries, and suffering compared to his? What did he have to endure, see, and do? No... Her suffering was insignificant, and anything else would have been just that: weakness.

"I've spent years convincing myself that my needs and problems are insignificant compared to yours!" Her throat was so tight that her voice was hoarse. She knew that shouting at each other was not the answer.

There was a quote from a wise man that said: "Raise your words, not your voice; it is the rain that makes the flowers grow, not the thunder."(*)

And Eve really did try with all her might not to raise her voice - and yet she couldn't restrain herself enough to raise it.

"We were supposed to hold each other up and hold each other tight, Dylan. But all you did was make me feel like I wasn't enough in everything I did and everything I was. All this time, all you saw in Liam and me was a burden. You should have been looking forward to coming home to us and spending time with Liam and me. Instead, you were always tense, angry, annoyed, or drunk. Nothing was enough, especially not me."

Dylan's jaw tightened, and a muscle twitched.

"Stop it," his voice forced its way between them. There was the chill of a spring morning in it. A chill that prickled the skin with pinpricks of warning.