Page 54 of Princess and Country

One week later

“I thought we’ve made progress. I guess I was wrong. What is going on? Can’t you just stop?” I yelled, massaging the base of my neck to relieve some tension. This couldn’t be the end of us. Tears flowed down my face. I huffed. Fighting all the time was exhausting. I pushed some of my anger away and walked to him across the living room, but Jeff stepped back. There was something in his eyes. A dark shadow. Something I’d never seen before. Was it pain or something else? Jeff would never do anything to hurt me. I knew that. But right now, I feared he’d hurt himself.

Without a word to me, he cut across the kitchen and hurried into the garage, slamming the door behind him. I followed him, but stopped at the door, needing a few minutes to calm down. I leaned my forehead on its flat surface, tears falling down my cheeks, and hoped my love could make its way to his heart. What was happening to us? All of a sudden, my body couldn’t seem to stand straight.

I slid down the door and rested my head on my folded knees.

Bam. Bam.“You stupid shit.” Bam. Bam, bam, bam.

The entire house vibrated. What was that? I jumped to my feet and entered the garage.

In the doorway, I froze. The scene playing in front of me wrecked my heart. And my soul.

Jeff was throwing cans of paint all over the place. The silver concrete floor was covered in a spectrum of colors. Blue. Yellow. Red. Black. A shelf was tipped to the side, and a bottle of whiskey was shattered at his feet. I blinked twice, assessing the extent of the damage.

Jeff didn’t acknowledge my presence. He kept throwing things around, restless. I’d never seen him like that. He looked possessed. As if someone had taken over his body.

I strode in his direction. “Easy. We don’t need to talk. Put that down,” I said in a low voice, removing a can of wood dye from his hand.

“I can’t. I need to erase those images from my head. I can’t take it anymore.” He snorted and slid the back of his hand under his nose. Was he crying? I couldn’t tell. Too many emotions etched his face. His bloodshot eyes looked empty. His lips trembled.

I had no idea what triggered today’s meltdown. My man woke up in a bad mood and threw a fit before I was even up.

A mask of pain took over his face.

My Jeff was locked somewhere inside this man, but I couldn’t reach him.

“They stoned them, Dah. And there was nothing we could do—nothing I could do. I watched all these women die. I enlisted to help and never felt so helpless.”

I fastened my arms around his shuddering body as sobs rocked through him. I stood there, my heart broken into a million pieces, my stomach tied into a string of knots, acid simmering down my throat.

Jeff’s shoulders heaved, and he pulled away, sitting on the floor, his back resting against the wall, his hands over his ears, and his eyes shut.

The sight of him, looking like a little child, broke everything in me.

I hugged myself with my arms.

A stream of tears flew down my cheeks.

Pain. Sadness. Helplessness.

Lost in my own head, trying to come up with ways to salvage what was left of my relationship with the man who stole my heart years ago, I didn’t hear Carter coming through the side door.

He tugged my hand until I rested against his chest. “What happened this time?” I dried my tears with my fingertips and shrugged.

“I don’t know. He started screaming. He hadn’t slept in a few days.”

Carter looked around, taking in the chaos surrounding us. “I thought he was doing better,” he said.

Our eyes landed on my man in his own world, not paying us any attention.

“I did too. Now I don’t know what to think. We’re leaving in two weeks—”

“He needs help.”

The air in the room, heavy and tense, suffocated me.

My heart bled. Jeff had raised a thick, high wall around him, and I lacked ways to climb over it.