Drew was drenched, but he paid no heed to himself.

His large hands firmly gripped Yvonne's trembling shoulders. "Don't be afraid... I'm here! Don't be afraid!"

Yvonne stared at him blankly. Her lips parted, her face pale, like someone who had just escaped from the suffocating depths of the ocean.

"Did you have a nightmare? Don't worry... I'm here; your husband's here." Drew's voice trembled with panic as he held her tightly in his arms.

"I... I can wash myself," Yvonne stammered, trembling violently as she tried to cover the old scars on her body.

Those years under Christopher's torment in Pivotage had left countless scars—both

physical and emotional. The flood of shameful, dark memories overwhelmed her, leaving her gasping for air.

The reason she never allowed the lights on during intimacy was her deep psychological scars surrounding the subject. She had always bathed alone, unwilling to let anyone, especially the one she loved most, see the ugly marks that bore witness to her painful past.

Drew's eyes flickered with shock, and in that instant, he understood everything.

Without hesitation, he stepped into the bathtub, immersing himself alongside her. His bloodshot eyes shone with determination as he wrapped his arms tightly around her fragile frame.

Listen to me," he

steadied under the warmth of his embrace, her erratic

I'm the one who's unworthy

skin. Each one etched itself into his heart, a testament to her suffering.

early hours of the morning,

blanket and sat alone on the veranda, gazing

far from the serene scene. She was preoccupied with thoughts of Justin's well-being as well

are you

turned to see Drew approaching. Her face lit up with joy. “ Drew, when did you

of Yvonne and didn't get a chance to

it over

it too,"

alright with

doing well," Drew admitted, his heart clenching at

"What happened?"

go of the past. She doesn't say it because she doesn't want me to worry, but I know she's battling it internally, trapped in a cycle of

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