Chapter Five

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PTSD

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PTSD.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Jason's mouth let the words out one by one, practicing for when he'd tell his parents. He had to tell them, he knew; this couldn't be a secret for long. And Delilah had advised him to because it would help him on his road to recovery.

Whether it would help him move on from the kidnapping, he didn't know. The trauma had become as much a part of him as the hair on his head, following him around everywhere as a dark shadow. Three years of being stuck in a basement—three whole years—had resulted in this.

"Post Trau-ma-tic Stress Dis-or-der."

Then came the wedding. His parents thought it was a good idea to save the business, both Dynalogic and the one owned by the Abbington family; when Jason and Emily married, it would get them a lot of media attention and trust from the public, which was needed to get everything rolling smoothly again. The idea was good, the execution not so much. Jason had called off the wedding when he realized he couldn't be around Emily for the rest of his life, both because of her loving someone else and the nightmares she reminded him of. That same day, he'd realized he needed help.

Not long after, Delilah had diagnosed him with PTSD. He didn't know what it meant back then, but it was what would control every day in his life—and it already had been controlling everything since the day he came back from the kidnapping, he just hadn't known it.

"Post Trau-ma-tic Stress Dis-or-der."

Only Audrey knew about it. As his assistant, she needed to schedule in all his appointments, the therapy sessions included. No one else knew; not his parents, not his coworkers, not even Emily. Although he couldn't help but wonder if she was experiencing the same thing.

But right now wasn't the time to think about that. Instead, he was practicing the talk he planned to have with his parents today over and over again, which is how he found himself at work mouthing the words 'post-traumatic stress disorder' multiple times.

He was sorting through piles of paper, but his head wasn't in it. Instead, his mouth was forming the syllables, hoping it would do the same when he was facing his parents. "Post-trau-ma-tic stress dis—"

"Jason!"

"Jason!" Emily shrieked, and she rushed to get up. "No, no, no, don't take him!"

A guy was quick to take her down, but her feet were still kicking in the air, wishing to run away. Jason could only look at her struggling as he was being taken away, hands on his back, until his taker turned his head forcefully so he would be looking to the other side.

After having spent every second together for months after months, they didn't even have each other anymore now.

All of his muscles froze at once.

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