A week had passed since Wren moved in with Connor, and the adjustment was gradually becoming easier. The two were settling into a routine, yet there remained an undercurrent of tension—an emotional distance that lingered between them.

Wren sat at a desk in her room, her gaze fixed vacantly on the wall. The silence of the room was only broken by the occasional rustle of paper. Connor stood in the doorway, his expression one of concern as he cleared his throat.

“Umm… Wren, are you okay?”

Wren’s focus snapped back to the present. “What was that?”

“I asked if you were okay,” Connor repeated, his voice gentle.

“Oh, yeah. I was just thinking,” Wren replied, her voice trailing off.

Connor hesitated before speaking again. “Are you worried about seeing Trevor again in court?”

At the mention of Trevor, Wren’s body tensed visibly. The mere thought of him seemed to provoke an almost physical reaction. Connor could see the fear in her eyes, a fear that hadn’t completely faded despite the passing days.

It had been a week since the last incident, but the nightmares persisted. Connor had witnessed her waking in terror, drenched in sweat, tears streaking down her face. Each night was a struggle, and he hated seeing her so vulnerable.

“Don’t worry,” Connor said softly, approaching her with a reassuring presence. “I’ll be right next to you the whole time.”

Wren offered a faint nod. “I know.”

“He can’t hurt you anymore,” Connor continued, trying to ease her anxiety.

Wren sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I just don’t want to look at him. He makes me feel disgusted.”

“It will just be a quick court visit,” Connor said, trying to sound as soothing as possible. “Then he will never see you again.”

“I hope he stays in jail for a long time,” Wren said, her voice filled with determination.

“He will,” Connor assured her. “So quit worrying.”

“Okay, I’ll try,” Wren agreed, taking a deep breath.

“Let’s get ready so we can make sure that bastard gets a long time in jail,” Connor said, his tone firm with resolve.

Wren glanced at the clock. “Give me ten minutes.”

“Take your time,” Connor said, stepping back to give her space. “Meet me in the car when you’re ready.”

Ten minutes later, Wren emerged, looking a little more composed. They made their way to the courthouse, the atmosphere in the car a mixture of anxious anticipation and determined resolve. Connor’s presence was a steadying force for Wren, and she felt a measure of comfort from knowing he would be with her.

Upon arriving at the courthouse, they entered the courtroom, and Wren took her seat next to the lawyer Connor had arranged for her. Her eyes were drawn to the door as it opened, revealing Trevor being led in by two police officers, his hands cuffed.

Trevor’s eyes locked onto Wren’s, and he mouthed a chilling message. “You can’t escape me. I’ll find you.” His smirk was a disturbing reminder of the threat he posed.

Wren’s hands balled into fists, her knuckles turning white as her nails dug into her palms. Connor noticed the tiny trickle of blood seeping from the cuts and immediately moved to her side.

“Sunshine,” he said softly, placing his hand over hers. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Wren’s voice was barely audible as she whispered, “I’m sorry. I just…”

“Shh…” Connor gently guided her to focus on him. “Hold my hand if you’re scared.”

He carefully helped her unclench her fingers and took one of her hands in his own. Using a tissue from his pocket, he wiped the blood from her other hand before lacing his fingers through hers and holding her hand on his lap.

With a comforting smile, Connor said, “I got you. Just focus on me.”

Wren managed a small, grateful smile. “Thank you.”

As they sat together, Connor’s steady presence was a balm to Wren’s frayed nerves. The courtroom’s cold formality seemed to recede, replaced by the warmth of Connor’s unwavering support. In that moment, Wren allowed herself to lean into his strength, finding solace in the assurance that she was not facing this battle alone.