Wrapped in Care
Not long after, my boyfriend arrived.
By then, I was dizzy from a head wound, emotionally flooded, and still trembling from everything that had happened. But the moment he walked in, everything shifted. He didn’t ask for explanations or reassurance. He didn’t need anything from me. He just stepped into the chaos and began creating calm.
The first thing he did was take care of Nicky. He made sure she had food, water, and comfort—everything she needed so I wouldn’t have to worry. I could stay upstairs in bed, knowing she was okay… knowing I was okay.
Then he came to me. He laid beside me and pulled me close. He talked to me gently, quietly. He told me I was safe. That I was loved. That I was a good person. That he wasn’t going to let anything happen to me.
And I believed him.
Because in that moment—held in his arms, hearing those words—I could feel it. I could feel the truth of it in my body. That I was no longer in danger. That I wasn’t alone. That I mattered.
After a day filled with triggers, fear, and misunderstandings, his calm, steady care felt like being pulled out of deep water and brought to shore. It wasn’t dramatic. It was deeply real.
He didn’t just tell me I was safe—he made me feel it.
