·Chapter Sixty-One·

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*Amir*

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*Amir*

My heart thumped as the first tear rolled down her face and broke with a hoarse sob, making its way out of her mouth.


I pulled her into my arms and comforted her the best I could, wrapping my arms around her shoulders as she cried with a force of grief and pain. I tapped into her mind and felt all the things that she was feeling, barely holding myself together. She stayed quiet and just cried. I didn't know what I should do. Her tears did the talking for her.

"It's okay," I repeated, letting her know that she can continue. "I know what you're feeling. God, baby, I feel it too," I told her, quivering with her in my arms. Why did I say that? That could make it worse.

Luckily, she was too shaken up to even notice. Her tears ran down my skin; each one sparked like a laser.

Helpless, I gathered her up into my arms and held her tight. Then I straighten the bed sheet with my palm and laid her down.

I brought up the soft blanket and stretched out next to her after she adjusted in her small space. I felt her precious soul borrowing into me, her fingers clutching my shoulders. Her tears... they continued, and I was not going to stop her anytime soon. My heart and my soul were shattering at the memories of what it was like for her before I came to America. I wished I could fix this somehow, and help make her memories fade, making it to where she didn't have to relive every pivotal moment she dealt with, but I didn't know how.

She was a strong woman; I tell ya. She had to be. They put her fragile self through so much. And I knew that deep down she was deeply affected by her experience. I would be an idiot if I thought otherwise. It saddened me to know that these scars were more emotional than physical, and there was nothing I could do about it. I didn't have a memory serum to give her that could erase everything she saw or felt, and honestly, if I did, it would be a way to fix it. Her mind would be healed. But I couldn't fix what festered underneath her soul and all the emotions she'd been dealing with it. I would do anything to help ease her pain; hell, give it all to me. If only that could be done. 

I didn't know how much time had passed since she laid down. I just knew when she was finally settling down, and her tears weren't pooling out of her eyelids anymore. Her ragged breathing slowed down, and I could feel how exhausted she was. She cried herself to sleep, and her body was extremely tired. Minutes? Hours? I didn't keep count how long she stayed in my embrace. The only thing I wanted was for her to relax, and that was what she was finally doing. 

Holding her close, she didn't stir or make a sound. She just kept her cheek against my shoulder as I kept running my hands through her almost-dry hair. I hoped that with each stroke and each motion that some of her troubles would slowly fade, hopefully disappearing as she rested. I knew she liked it when I ran my fingers in her hair. It may not seem like much, but it was all I could think of to do. I just wanted to comfort her. 

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