The Billionaire's Offer

Chapter 22

"No!" I wake up gasping, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Emma?" I hear Asher's voice as he touches my shoulder, but I pull away, walking straight to the bathroom.

My body is drenched in sweat, and the room feels stifling, so I turn on the taps and splash some water on my face.

Zack's face twisted with anger, the echoes of his harsh words, and the sharp sting of pain from his touch replay in my mind, vivid and terrifying, like a haunting memory, refusing to fade.

"Are you okay?" Asher asks from the door, and I look at him. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, and concern etches his features as he registers my distress.

"Yeah..." I clear my throat, looking down. "Just a nightmare."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"I don't even remember..." I shrug, bringing my eyes back to him. Big mistake. He's looking at me like he can see right through me. Only there's a hint of disappointment in his gaze that I've never seen before. I open my mouth, trying to say something, but nothing comes out.

He takes a tentative step closer, and I meet him halfway. He grabs my hand, pulling me to his chest, and I quickly wrap my arms around him. His chin drops to the top of my head, and the sigh that leaves his lips breaks my heart.

A sob breaks free from my chest before I can do anything, and Asher tightens his hold around me. I try to suppress my tears, but the pain feels too raw, too close to the surface.

"Shh," he whispers, his voice a soothing balm. "It's okay. You're safe, babe."

I shake my head, trying to pull myself together.

"Is it about your dad? About the shelter?" Asher murmurs, his fingers gently tracing circles on my back.

I pull away slightly, meeting his gaze. There's a fierceness in his eyes, a silent promise that he'd do anything to protect me. It warms my heart, but at the same time, I can't shake the guilt that accompanies it.

"It feels like so much has happened in our lives in such a short time," I mumble, wiping away the tears that refuse to stop.

"It sure does..." Asher cups my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the remnants of my tears.

A shaky breath escapes me as I lean into his touch, pulling him into a hug again. In an ideal world, I'd be considered the victim when it comes to Zack. But I've seen firsthand how cruel the world can be to women who've endured abuse.

Society has this twisted way of scrutinizing and blaming women for the abuse they've suffered. The whispers of judgment echo louder than the cries for help, and the scars left by abuse extend far beyond the physical.

This victim-blaming is an insidious dance that perpetuates a cycle of shame and silence. Women are expected to carry the weight of their trauma in silence, and if they dare to speak out, they risk being labeled damaged or unstable.

Women, all around the globe, who have endured not only verbal and physical abuse but also the violation of their privacy, showcase a strength that transcends words. Their resilience in the face of such adversity is a testament to their courage and tenacity.

But, despite their strength, the journey toward healing is often hindered by the societal challenges that surround discussing such traumatic experiences openly. The stigma and judgment that persist can make it incredibly difficult for survivors to share their stories and seek the understanding and support they deserve.

I've witnessed these kinds of struggles daily. I've personally lived through these challenges for years. I've made my life mission to support these women because I know what it feels like.