The babysitter

Secrets

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, bathing the room in a gentle glow. The warmth of the couch beneath her was comforting, but Lucy's body still ached. Her muscles were stiff, her head heavy. The pain was almost unbearable, yet it was the feeling of safety—something she hadn't experienced in so long—that made her cling to consciousness.

She stirred slightly, groaning as her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dimly lit room. The first thing she saw was Emma, standing beside the couch, her tiny face lighting up in excitement. The joy in Emma's eyes was infectious, and for a fleeting moment, Lucy forgot the pain that pulsed through her.

"Lucie! Lucie, here!" Emma squealed in her high-pitched voice, bouncing on her toes. "Daddy! Lucie's awake!"

Lucy blinked slowly, her lips curling into a tired but affectionate smile. "Hey, Em," she whispered hoarsely, the sound of her own voice foreign to her. "Oh, I missed you."

Emma's eyes sparkled as she leaned closer, holding her hands out in excitement. "You're awake! You're awake!" she cheered, clapping her hands together. "Daddy said you were gonna be okay!"

Lucy winced as she tried to sit up, her body protesting the movement with a sharp jolt of pain. She gasped, gripping the side of the couch as her vision blurred momentarily. The wound on her side throbbed, and her bruises felt like fire against her skin. But still, she tried to push herself upright.

"Hey," Tim's voice came from the doorway, low but gentle. He must have been watching her from the threshold, waiting to make sure she wasn't pushing herself too hard. "Take it easy, Lucy."

Lucy gave him a small, sheepish smile. "I'm alright," she murmured, though she knew it was far from true. Her body felt like it had been through a war. She looked at Tim, then back to Emma, and finally spoke again. "Uhm... thanks for yesterday."

Tim stepped into the room, moving with quiet care. "No problem," he said, his voice soft but firm. His eyes were warm, filled with concern, but there was something else there—something that Lucy couldn't quite place. "Em, could you go to your room for a little bit?"

Emma's eyes widened with mock indignation. "What? No fair!" She crossed her arms, pouting dramatically. "But I want to help Lucie! I wanna bake cookies later!"

Tim sighed and smiled at her playful defiance. "Yes, honey, we'll bake cookies later. But I need you to go to your room for now, okay? I'll come get you soon."

"Yayyy!" Emma cheered, her excitement not dampened in the slightest. She bounced off the couch and dashed out of the room, her small feet thudding on the hardwood floor.

As soon as Emma was out of earshot, Tim turned his attention back to Lucy, his expression softening as he knelt beside her. "Take it easy," he said, his voice more serious now. "You really scared me last night."

Lucy met his gaze and nodded, her eyes heavy with exhaustion and something deeper. She wasn't sure how to express the gratitude she felt for Tim's care, for his help when she had nowhere else to turn. He had been her anchor in a storm, and she didn't know how to explain just how much that meant.

"Sorry," she whispered, looking down at her hands. They were still trembling, though she wasn't sure if it was from fear, pain, or something else entirely.

Tim shook his head, his hands resting gently on her knees. "Not a problem," he reassured her. "Now, my question is—what happened to you?"

Lucy's heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, she could feel the fear clawing at her chest. She wasn't sure she was ready to tell him, not yet. Not when everything felt so raw. But she knew she couldn't keep hiding the truth.

Her gaze flickered toward the door, as if expecting someone to walk in, to interrupt. But the house was quiet. Just her, Tim, and the memory of Emma's laughter that still echoed faintly in the halls.

She swallowed, her throat dry. "Uhm..." She hesitated, searching for the right words, but they wouldn't come. The weight of the truth pressed down on her, suffocating her in the silence. How could she tell him about Louis? About the arranged marriage? About everything that had led her to this moment?

Tim's voice was gentle, but insistent. "Lucy, you can tell me. You're safe here."

Lucy closed her eyes, the memories rushing back, flooding her mind in waves. She could still see Louis's face—the man she had been forced to marry, a stranger who had controlled her every move for years. She had never loved him, never wanted any part of the life he had planned for her. But she had been trapped, bound by a contract she couldn't escape.

"Lou... Louis did it," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tim's brow furrowed, confusion knitting his features. "What?" he asked, leaning in closer as though he hadn't quite understood. "Your husband did this to you?"

Lucy nodded, a single tear escaping from the corner of her eye. "Arranged husband. I was in an arranged marriage," she confessed, her voice cracking under the weight of the words. "It's... it's complicated, Tim."

Tim was silent for a moment, his face unreadable. His jaw tightened, and for the first time, Lucy could see the anger flickering behind his eyes. He stood up and turned away from her, pacing the length of the room with quick, purposeful steps. His voice was low, but she could hear the edge of fury in it when he spoke again.

"Your husband," he began, his voice tight with restraint, "this... Louis, he did this to you. He hurt you. And you're telling me you've been living like this for who knows how long, and you never said anything?"

Lucy winced, the sting of his words cutting through her. She wasn't angry with him—how could she be? He had every right to be angry. But it hurt to hear the truth laid bare like that, to feel the guilt gnawing at her for keeping silent for so long.

"I didn't have a choice," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I... I had to do what he wanted. I didn't know how to escape." She choked on her words, her hands curling into fists at her sides. "I couldn't tell anyone. He said he'd ruin everything."

Tim stopped pacing and turned back to her, his expression softening, though the anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface. He walked toward her slowly, kneeling down in front of the couch again.

"You don't have to keep hiding, Lucy," he said gently, his hand reaching out to rest on hers. "You're safe now. But we need to take action. This isn't something we can let slide."

Lucy shook her head, her breath coming in shallow bursts. "No, Tim, please. Don't report this. Not yet." She gripped his hand tightly, her eyes wide with panic. "If you report it, Louis will... he'll come after me. He'll make sure I never get away."

Tim's brow furrowed in confusion. "But if we don't do something now, he'll keep coming after you. This is serious, Lucy."

Lucy's eyes filled with unshed tears, her throat closing up as the weight of everything she had been carrying threatened to crush her. "I know," she whispered, her voice breaking. "But I need more time. I need to figure out how to fix this without him finding out."

Tim stared at her for a long moment, his gaze searching hers, trying to understand the depth of her fear. Finally, he sighed, his voice heavy with a mixture of frustration and understanding.

"Okay," he said softly. "But I'm not letting this go. We'll figure this out, together."

Lucy nodded, grateful for his understanding, but the dread in her chest refused to go away. She didn't know what the future held, but she did know one thing for certain: she wasn't alone anymore.

Not while Tim was here.