It had been such a beautiful day. Taylor and Travis strolled through the bustling city streets, blending into the crowd. They had been laughing, exchanging inside jokes, and enjoying the freedom of an ordinary day out. Travis had been watching her, mesmerized by her laugh and the way her face lit up when she was at ease, truly herself.
As they walked by a small boutique, she paused to look in the window, her face lighting up at the sight of an old vinyl record on display. In that moment, her joy was palpable, and he felt an overwhelming urge to be close to her, to keep her safe. He reached out, his hand resting gently on her waist, pulling her closer to him, not thinking twice about the gesture. But the instant his fingers touched her, he felt her body stiffen, her breath catch.
Taylor's vision blurred, her heart pounding so fiercely that it echoed in her ears. She didn't see the bustling streets anymore. She was back in London, back in that suffocating, dark space where she felt so small, so alone. The memory rushed in unbidden, unstoppable. She felt the ghostly grip of Joe's hand on her waist, his rough, bruising fingers that didn't let go, the pain of his words like shattered glass cutting into her.
"Taylor?" Travis's voice was soft, filled with concern, but she couldn't hear him. She was trapped in the memory, drowning in it.
Without a word, she pulled away, a sob caught in her throat. She turned and ran, needing distance, air, anything to break free from the horror that clung to her. Her legs carried her through the maze of streets, her vision hazy with tears.
Travis was left standing in stunned silence, her reaction like a slap. He could still feel the impression of her waist beneath his fingers, could still see the terror in her eyes. His heart raced with worry as he took off after her, weaving through the crowd, desperately calling her name.
He found her moments later, tucked away in a small, quiet alleyway, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. She was clutching her arms around herself, curled in on herself as if trying to make herself invisible. Travis approached slowly, his own heart breaking at the sight of her so raw, so vulnerable.
"Taylor," he said softly, kneeling beside her, his voice a soothing murmur. "It's me. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."
She looked up, her face streaked with tears, eyes filled with an ocean of pain. There was a wall of fear, of shame, that she could barely push through. But seeing the love and patience in his gaze, she felt a faint glimmer of courage.
Taking a shuddering breath, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I need to tell you something."
Travis nodded, settling down beside her, giving her the time she needed, his hand gently reaching out to hold hers. She squeezed it, as if his touch grounded her, gave her the strength to begin.
"Before... before you, before everything... I was with someone named Joe," she started, each word costing her. "He wasn't like you. He... he hurt me. Mentally, physically, in every way you can think of. He..." Her voice trembled, choking on the memories. "He would grab me, drag me around by my hair. If he got tired of looking at me, he'd lock me in the bathroom for hours, sometimes even days."
Travis's face fell, a deep, pained sadness filling his eyes as he listened. But he remained silent, his gaze never wavering.
"I remember one night," she continued, her voice a broken whisper, "he... he hit me so hard I couldn't move. I had to wear long sleeves to cover the bruises and scars. I'd layer foundation on my legs so no one could see. He'd... he'd mock me, make fun of everything I loved. Broadway soundtracks, Hamilton... he'd say it was pathetic, that I was pathetic." Her voice broke, and she pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle the sob that rose.
Travis's hands clenched involuntarily, the anger simmering beneath his surface palpable, but he kept his voice calm. "Taylor, none of that was your fault."
She shook her head, as if still haunted by Joe's twisted words. "He'd tell me... that it was my fault, that I was the cause of everything he did. That I... that I deserved it for not behaving."
Travis's heart ached as he absorbed her words, the hurt and pain radiating from her like waves. He wanted to go back in time, to erase every scar, every bruise, every memory.
"There was one time..." she took a shaky breath, her body trembling as she spoke, "he locked me in the bathroom for almost a month. No food, no water. I was so weak... I thought I would die in there. The only reason I didn't... was because my friends Abigail and Kelsea got worried. They couldn't reach me, couldn't get any response from me, so they flew all the way to London. They found me locked in there, barely able to stand." Her voice broke, the horror of that memory consuming her. "They saved my life."
Travis felt tears prick his own eyes, his throat tight with anger and sorrow. He reached out, carefully pulling her into his arms, holding her close. "I'm so sorry, Taylor. I wish I could take all that pain away."
She rested her head against his shoulder, her tears soaking into his shirt as she held onto him. She felt safe in his embrace, as if his presence alone could shield her from the memories.
"The police wouldn't even arrest him," she whispered. "They told me there was no evidence, nothing they could use."
Travis's arms tightened around her, a silent vow forming in his heart to protect her, to never let anyone hurt her again. "You're safe now," he whispered, his voice a steady, calming presence. "You're with me, and I'll never let anything happen to you. I promise."
They stayed there for a while, wrapped in each other's arms as she let go of the burden she'd carried for so long. She felt a small weight lift, knowing that someone finally understood, that someone cared enough to hold her through the pain.
After a while, Travis pulled back, looking at her with gentle determination. "Come on, let's get you home," he said softly, standing and carefully helping her up.
On the way home, Taylor leaned against him in the car, exhaustion taking over as the weight of her emotions left her drained. She drifted off, her head resting on his shoulder, her breathing steady and peaceful.
Travis glanced at her as she slept, his heart heavy with a new understanding. He noticed, for the first time, the small, seemingly unimportant habits she had — like leaving doors cracked open or lights on when she went to another room. It hit him that she did it because of those memories, those dark moments she'd endured alone. His jaw clenched as he imagined the pain she'd carried in silence for so long.
When they arrived home, he gently lifted her from the car, carrying her inside and laying her carefully on the couch. She stirred, murmuring something softly, but her face remained peaceful. Travis placed a soft blanket over her and watched as she settled into the cushions, her breathing even.
He went into the kitchen, putting together a simple dinner, the comforting scent of warm soup filling the air. As he moved, his thoughts remained on her, on everything she'd been through. He felt a fierce resolve rise within him to be there for her, to help her heal, to give her all the love she'd been deprived of for so long.
When Taylor finally woke, she found him sitting beside her, a bowl of soup in hand and a soft, reassuring smile on his face. In that moment, she knew she was safe, that she'd found someone who would stand beside her through the darkest of shadows. And for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to believe that healing was possible, that love could be gentle, that maybe, just maybe, she was home.
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