The Bond Between Us (Anastasia and Herman) novel Chapter 1160

Time crawled by, minute after minute.

Monica had no clue how long she’d been sitting on the couch. The rain had finally stopped outside, and twilight was settling in, painting everything in shades of blue and gray.

She checked the clock—already seven. With a sigh, Monica headed into the kitchen to make dinner. She’d never been much for cooking before, but now she’d taught herself to handle everything, from hosting a dinner party to whipping up a meal for two.

In the kitchen, Monica’s heart felt heavy. In the bedroom, Jason was trapped in his own storm—restless, frustrated, stuck somewhere between anger and despair.

He tried curling his right hand into a fist. Still no strength.

He could live with the scars on his face. But being blind, unable to even hold a gun or return to the life he once knew—that was the blow that broke him.

Who can really claim to be so strong that nothing gets to them?

Jason had risked everything for others, but now, months later, he was all but forgotten.

He’d gambled his youth and his future, and in the end, no one remembered him. All he had left was the guilt of dragging down the people he loved. The unfairness of it all ate away at him.

Sometimes Jason wondered: If he had the chance, would he still throw himself into danger to save someone?

He used to believe he would—no question. But now, day by day, reality was wearing down his faith. He didn’t know anymore.

“Jason, dinner’s ready,” Monica called from the hallway.

Jason heard her, but didn’t budge. His eyes prickled with tears he refused to let fall.

He’d once pictured a life with Monica—building a home together, living out the little routines of real life. He’d cook, she’d eat, and that would be enough.

Now, he felt useless, relying on her for everything.

It hurt his pride more than he cared to admit.

“If you don’t come out, I’m getting someone to break down this door,” Monica threatened from outside, her voice half-joking, half-serious.

Two minutes later, Jason opened the door. His gaze was empty, scars twisting across his face.

Monica was used to it by now. She’d accepted every part of him.

But his wounded pride was a weight on both of them.

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