It’s late, but I’m not sleepy. I’m lying in Jacob’s arms in our bed. He brought me home immediately. We made love, had a very late dinner and now I’m lying in his arms. I should be exhausted, but I can’t shut my brain down. It is impossible. When you’ve lived your whole life for one dream and that dream is in your arms? When you get that dream after thinking it was gone forever? You can’t sleep. You’re afraid to sleep.

Jacob pulls my hand up, looking at it. His thumb presses into my palm, his fingers brush against mine.

“What are you thinking?” I ask, watching as he continues playing with my hand, curling my fingers and his together.

“I’m better Carrie, losing you woke me up, but…”

“But?”

“You have to know, I’m not magically healed. I still… shit Carrie…panic is just a breath away. I’m terrified of you touching me sometimes. I have this anger inside of me and there are times I just want to scream. I can’t promise that you won’t, that I…”

He turns to get out of the bed and I stop him, curling tighter into him.

“Jacob. I’ve known about your attack since before the first time we made love. Don’t you think I get it? We’ll get through it together.”

“Carrie, I wasn’t attacked…I was…”

“You were forced,” I interrupt him, my heart breaking. “You didn’t do anything, Jacob.”

“You can’t pretty it up, Carrie. This…there is no way to make this pretty. I was raped.”

The last word is broken and whispered so quietly it breaks my heart.

“It happens, Jacob. I… it happens.”

I feel helpless and ill equipped to battle this. I want to have this magic word to heal him and there’s nothing. I have nothing.

“It doesn’t happen, not to a man. How can you want me, Carrie? I wasn’t even strong enough to defend myself. How can I protect you or our baby?”

“Stop it, just stop it. You were held down and stabbed and you fought with everything you had in you.”

“How do you…”

“The dreams Jacob, the dreams and that scar on your side. Most of all I know, because I know you. Rape is a crime. You were a victim, not weak. You’re one of the strongest men I know.”

“Carrie…”

“When I was five years old crying and hurt in the school parking lot all by myself, who picked me up, doctored my leg, held me and told me he had me? Who told me it would be okay? Who Jacob?”

“Sweetheart, you were…”

“When I was the one who was almost raped Jacob, who stopped it? Who stopped it and held me close and told me he had me and it would be okay?”

“Carrie….”

“If I had been raped Jacob, would you have thought me weak? Would you have been unable to care about me?”

“Fuck, no. I love you, Care Bear.”

I let the tears fall at his words, but I ignore them, this is too important.

“When I had a gun pointed at me and thought I was going to die. Who saved me, Jacob? Who made it all okay? Who?”

He doesn’t say anything, but he looks at me differently.

“When there was a bomb and we didn’t have time to get away, who not only got us out but covered me with his body and protected me? Who made it all okay?”

“Carr…”

“Who Jacob?”

“What about all the times I failed you. When I hurt you? When I failed…”

“WILL YOU STOP? When it counts Jacob, always, when it has counted you have been there for me. I would trust you over anyone I have ever known to watch over our child. Let the rest go. We’ll work through it, together.”

“Together?” He asks and I hear the hope in his question.

“It’s all going to be okay, Jacob,” I say earnestly.

“And we’ll live happily ever after,” He whispers, his voice full of warmth.

His lips come down softly against mine. He kisses me gently, reverently and slowly. His tongue slides into my mouth as his hand brushes the side of my face. The kiss is full of emotion, full of tenderness and most of all, full of promise.

“I love you, Carolina Grace.”

“I love you, Jacob Dancer Blake.”

“Just Jacob to you baby, just to you.”

“Okay that’s it,” I say slapping his chest. “Stop being sweet. I need my badass Biker now.”

“Is that right?” He asks on a laugh, pulling me over top of him.

“Yeah, I’m a biker’s old lady now, so there are certain things expected.”

“What’s that?”

I give him what I hope is a saucy look, full of challenge.

“Cock. Old Ladies need lots of throbbing, hard cock.”

His head goes back with laughter and his dark eyes shine up at me with happiness.

“I’ll see what I can do, Care Bear. I’ll see what I can do.”