Ivy stared at him, uncertain. She had always known that, sooner or later, Jamison would ask about the past – about those years she’d tried so hard to bury. She’d played out this conversation in her mind, imagined how she might tell him, wondered if he’d ever really believe her.

Sensing her hesitation, Jamison hurried to explain himself, worried she’d misunderstood. “I’m just… confused, that’s all. I want to understand what you went through, so I can help you move past it – so I know how to really be there for you.”

Maybe it was the gentle concern in his eyes, or the way his voice softened when he spoke, but Ivy felt her anxiety slowly begin to settle. After a moment’s pause, she decided to open up to him – to lay the truth bare.

“It’s a long story,” she began quietly. “Back then, the family who bought me… they only had one son. Everyone in the village called him Silly. At first, I thought he really was slow, but later I learned that, mentally, he was fine. He just had cerebral palsy – his features were twisted, his body moved strangely, so people assumed he was simple.”

“Silly had gone to school. He once told me he was actually a pretty good student, but no one – neither the villagers nor his teachers – believed someone like him could ever make it in the world. They thought he’d never find work, no matter how much he studied. So after he finished middle school, his parents made him quit. They needed him at home, tending the sheep, feeding the pigs.”

“His father was a drunk – a mean one, too. Whenever he got wasted, he’d beat Silly’s mother. I found out later she’d been bought, too. They’d hoped for a healthy son, but when Silly was born, his father took out all his anger on her. Years of beatings, years of misery. Silly knew it was wrong – he’d read enough to understand that much – but his body was so frail he could barely walk straight, let alone protect his mother.”

“After they bought me, Silly’s father was desperate for a grandchild. He kept pressuring Silly, but Silly always refused. Once, it got so bad that Silly’s father brought a few of the local men to the house, tried to force us—”

Up to this point, Ivy’s voice was flat, almost detached, as if telling a story that belonged to someone else. But Jamison’s heart broke for her. He sat up, pulling her tightly into his arms.

When she reached the part about nearly being assaulted, the blankness on her face finally cracked; her eyes grew wide and tense, her whole body rigid.

Jamison’s jaw clenched. He instantly regretted pushing her, and hurried to stop her. “No, that’s enough. You don’t have to say any more. I don’t need to know the details. Whatever happened, I’m here for you. We have all the time in the world – I’ll help you heal, no matter how long it takes.”

He held her so tightly it was as if he could shield her from every nightmare. The warmth of his embrace seeped into her bones, wrapping itself around the cold, wounded places in her heart. For the first time in years, she felt the faintest flicker of courage.

But she shook her head. “Since I’ve started, I want to finish.” She met his eyes, steadying herself before she went on.

“That day, they nearly tore all my clothes off. They dragged Silly in, tried to force him onto me. He was small, thin, never dared talk back to his father… but suddenly he snapped. He went wild – biting, throwing rocks, fighting like someone possessed. I fought just as desperately. By the end, we’d smashed a whole section of the pigsty wall. After that, the men gave up, and nothing happened.”

Jamison swallowed hard, his eyes burning with unshed tears. He looked at her, saw the few silent tears streaming down her face, and gently brushed them away.

“I understand,” he whispered. “I promise, I’ll never pressure you. Take all the time you need – even if it takes a lifetime.”

“I’m not finished yet.” Ivy steadied her breath, pushing forward. “That first year, things like that happened often. Every time, Silly risked everything to protect me. Once, he even smashed his head against a millstone trying to fight them off – there was blood everywhere…”