CMWMBB 63
VENUS
Two days later, the house was loud again.
Not the sharp, fractured noise of crisis. Not the low murmur of fear that had lived inside these walls for weeks.
Real noise.
Children arguing over cereal. Sabine laughing too loudly at something George insisted wasn’t funny. The faint hum of the television no one was actually watching.
It should have felt normal.
Instead, it felt fragile.
Like glass glued back together-beautiful, functional… but still aware of the cracks.
I stood in the kitchen doorway and watched them.
Iris sat at the table between George and Sabine, a bowl of fruit untouched in front of her. Her fingers moved slowly over the edge of the table, tracing invisible lines. Sabine leaned against her shoulder more clingy than usual, as if proximity itself was reassurance.
George sat straighter than he ever had before.
Older.
His eyes flicked toward Iris every few seconds, checking without making it obvious. When Sabine bumped her too hard reaching for the juice, George’s hand shot out instantly.
“Careful,” he said.
Sabine blinked at him, and Iris started, “She didn’t-”
“I know,” he said quickly, softer now. “Just… careful.”
Iris gave him a small smile.
It wasn’t her usual wide, carefree grin.
It was quieter.
Measured.
Like she was still deciding whether the world was safe again.
I told myself that was normal.
That healing didn’t happen in one dramatic moment.
That rescue was not the same as recovery.
But watching her sit there, small and composed in a way she never used to be, made something tight coil in my
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chest.
Sabine noticed me first.
“Mommy,” she said brightly, climbing down from her chair and running toward me. She wrapped herself
around my waist like she had the first night I came back.
I held her close.
She didn’t pull away as quickly as she used to.
George stayed at the table, but his eyes tracked everything.
Aaron stood near the living room archway.
Watching.
He wasn’t pretending to scroll on his phone. He wasn’t distracted.
He was observing.
Alert.
Two days had passed since Iris came home, and he hadn’t truly relaxed once.
At night, I felt it.
The way he would shift at the smallest noise. The way his hand automatically reached toward my side of the bed before his mind caught up.
He hadn’t left war mode.
Not yet.
A knock at the door broke the moment.
Before I could move, Aaron was already walking toward it.
His steps were quiet, controlled, but there was something in his shoulders that never quite dropped.
I followed behind him slowly.
When he opened the door, Colton stood on the other side.
For a second, none of us spoke.
When his eyes met mine, something inside me broke loose.
I crossed the distance without thinking and threw my arms around him.
Not polite.
Not restrained.
Tight.
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“You saved her,” I whispered against his shoulder. “You told Aaron. You went after her. You-”
He stiffened at first, surprised, then his arms came up around me gently.
“You don’t need to thank me,” he said quietly.
“Yes, I do,” I insisted, pulling back just enough to look at him. “It was you. If you hadn’t-”
“Venus.” His voice softened. “You and those kids… you’re what I have left. I’d do anything for you. You know that.”
The words settled deep.
Remaining family.
There was history in that phrase.
Loss.
Loyalty.
I swallowed hard and nodded.
“Still,” I said. “Thank you.”
Aaron stepped back slightly, giving us space, though his eyes never left the doorway.
Colton glanced past me toward the kitchen.
“How is she?” he asked quietly.
I exhaled.
“She’s… quiet.”
We moved into the living room, Aaron closing the door behind him.
Iris looked up when she saw Colton.
A small smile appeared.
“Uncle Colton,” she said softly.
He crouched in front of her, his expression warm.
“Hey, trouble,” he murmured.
She leaned into him easily.
Too easily.
I noticed it because it mirrored something else.
The way she had leaned into Gabby’s name.
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“I’m no longer your Queen?” Her tone was low.
“Now, why would you think that? You’re my Queen Iris, forever.” She smiled. “Just don’t tell George I said that -he’ll get Jealous.” He muttered the last part.
“I heard that.” George grinned, and Iris chuckled before poking out her tongue.
Colton rubbed her hair before walking off with me.
“Is she okay?” he asked after a moment.
I hesitated.
“She keeps asking for Gabby,” I admitted.
Aaron’s jaw tightened slightly from across the room.
Colton nodded slowly.
“That makes sense,” he said.
“How?” I asked.
“She was with her the whole time,” he explained. “Gabby was the one who fed her, talked to her, stayed near her.”
I swallowed.
Colton continued carefully, “She might’ve formed a bond. It’s not uncommon. I’m not a professional, but… sometimes when someone protects you in captivity, your brain attaches safety to them.”
The word hung in the air.
Captivity.
Aaron shifted his weight slightly.
“Stockholm syndrome?” I asked quietly.
Colton lifted a shoulder. “Maybe. Or maybe she just feels grateful. Kids don’t process fear the way we do.”
I didn’t know which explanation made me feel worse.
Iris looked between us, sensing the tone shift.
“She saved me,” she said simply.
Aaron’s gaze softened at that.
“I know,” he replied.
The room grew quiet again.
Sabine climbed into my lap without asking. George positioned himself on the other side of Iris like a silent guard.
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And suddenly I saw it clearly.
The subtle changes.
Sabine clinging more than usual.
George watching doors and windows like he’d memorized Aaron’s habits.
Iris touching surfaces as if checking they were real.
And Aaron-
Standing near the edge of the room, always angled toward the exits.
The house felt full again.
But it didn’t feel the same.
Later that afternoon, when the children were outside in the backyard with Colton, I stood at the kitchen sink watching through the window.
George hovered close to Iris while she pushed Sabine gently on the swing.
Sabine laughed freely.
Iris smiled.
But it didn’t reach her eyes the way it used to.
Aaron stepped up beside me silently.
He didn’t touch me.
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