Chapter 5

• Jake *****
• Belle’s eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. It was as if time itself was holding its breath, waiting for something. My heart raced in my chest, my breath shallow, each one like a small battle to stay calm. “Belle…” I whispered, afraid that even the softest sound might shatter this fragile moment, like waking up too suddenly from a dream.
• She blinked, her gaze blurry, unfocused, as if she couldn’t quite remember how to make sense of what she was seeing. But then, slowly, her eyes settled on me, and there was a flicker of recognition. “Jake…” Her voice was weak, barely more than a rasp, but it was enough to make my heart jump. Her breath hitched, and I could hear the quiet tremor in her words—fragile, needy.
• I couldn’t believe it. After everything—after the pain, the fear, the long, hopeless days—she was awake. I reached out instinctively, my hands shaking as I cupped her face, like I might break her if I wasn’t careful. I couldn’t lose her again, not now. Not after all this.
• “Belle, you’re awake. Thank God… you’re awake,” I breathed, the words coming out in a rush, thick with emotion. I had to fight to keep the tears from spilling. I’d held them back for so long, but right then, I didn’t want to overwhelm her with anything she wasn’t ready for.
• Her brow furrowed as she blinked, trying to take in the room, trying to remember where she was. She looked lost, like she was still a little outside herself, grasping at something that wasn’t quite there. “Where am I?” she asked, her voice soft, almost drowned by the silence in the room.
• “The hospital,” I said, my voice steady, but the tightness in my chest betrayed me. I wanted to reach inside her mind and pull out all the missing pieces, make it okay. “You’ve been unconscious for a while. We… we’ve been waiting for you.”
• Belle’s gaze wandered, looking around the room, her breath shallow, labored. She was weak, drained. I could see the toll everything had taken on her. It was easier to feel anger, to want to scream at the world for what it had done to her. But right then, all I could feel was this overwhelming relief that she was here, that she was breathing, that she wasn’t gone.
• Her eyes turned back to me, and I felt them. The weight of them, heavy with questions. She wasn’t scared, not exactly—but there was something there. A sense that she knew something was wrong, even if she didn’t know what.
• "I... I don’t remember,” Belle murmured, her voice cracking like a thread stretched too tight. She reached out, her hand trembling as it hovered in the air, like she didn’t quite trust her own body. “What happened to me, Jake?”
• I froze, my breath catching in my throat. I didn’t want to tell her, not yet. She’d already been through too much. I couldn’t drag her back into that darkness, couldn’t make her face the horrors she’d lived through.
• “Don’t worry about it,” I said quickly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. My voice was gentle, soft. I needed her to hear the calm, to believe it. “You’re safe now. That’s all that matters. You don’t need to remember anything right now.”
• Her brow furrowed slightly, confusion clouding her face, but I saw the weariness there, too. I saw how tired she was, how she was still too fragile for everything to come flooding back. I couldn’t push her. Not yet.
• “I’m sorry,” I whispered, leaning in closer, my voice low, full of reassurance. “You don’t have to think about any of it. Just… just focus on getting better. That’s all I care about.”
• Belle’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, like she was pulling the weight of the world off her shoulders just long enough to catch her breath. When she spoke again, her voice was so soft it barely reached me. “I just... I feel so lost,” she confessed, her words unraveling in the quiet of the room. “Like I’m missing something.”
• I felt the ache in her words, the vulnerability, the emptiness. I wanted to reach into her soul and fill the space she couldn’t seem to reach. “You’re not missing anything,” I said firmly, squeezing her hand gently. “You’re here with me. That’s all that matters. Right here, right now.”
• She nodded slowly, like she was trying to hold onto something real. Her eyes flickered with trust, but there was still that confusion, that fog. “I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But why do you look… older?”
• I blinked, caught off guard by the question. A small smile tugged at my lips, even as concern swept through me. “I’m just 30 years old, Belle. Hardly old.”
• She looked at me in surprise, her mouth opening slightly. “30? But I... I don’t remember you being that age. It’s like my memory’s playing tricks on me.” Her fingers went to her forehead, like she was trying to sift through the fragments of forgotten years. “All I can remember is you and me playing in the yard when we were kids...”
• I smiled softly, the nostalgia of those memories making my chest tighten. “You don’t remember anything from the last ten years?” I asked, my voice more fragile than I intended.
• Belle shook her head, her face a mix of confusion and fear. “No, it’s all a blur. I don’t know what happened to me.” She met my eyes, searching for something, for answers. “Did we get married? I remember… I think I remember wearing a white dress. But I can’t remember the wedding.”
• The question hit me like a punch to the gut. The truth was, I wished it had been me standing beside her that day, making her promises instead of him. But I couldn’t tell her that. Not now. Not when she was so fragile.
• “Yes,” I said, keeping my voice even, even though it felt like my heart was breaking all over again. “We did. It was beautiful. You were stunning. You were the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.” I lied, just a little, but I didn’t care. The truth could wait. Right now, I needed her to feel safe, to feel like she wasn’t alone.
• Belle’s expression softened, but there was still that doubt behind her eyes. She seemed to accept my words for now, but I could see she was still searching for something. “I’m glad you’re here,” she repeated, squeezing my hand again, her voice barely a whisper.
• I sat beside her, my eyes trained on her slow, steady breathing. It felt like a moment of peace, a small flicker of hope. She wasn’t remembering everything yet, but that was okay. I would help her reclaim it, piece by piece. I wouldn’t let her fall back into the shadows. Not again.
• Then, just as I thought we might have a moment to breathe, a voice sliced through the silence, sending a chill down my spine.
• “Belle… please save me.”
• I turned to see Samuel—her husband—standing in the doorway, his face pale, blood pouring from a wound on his head. He crumpled to the floor before I could even react. My mind raced. How had he gotten past the guards I’d set up? How had he gotten here?
• I rushed to him, kneeling beside him as he writhed in pain. I had to act quickly—his presence could shatter everything I’d been trying to protect Belle from.
• Her past had found her faster than I’d anticipated. And now, I had to protect her from the dangers she couldn’t remember. From him.