Marsh kissed his temple.“Then be afraid.But stand behind me while you are.I’ll take the hits until you remember how strong you are.”
A long breath passed between them.
Eli whispered, “Thank you.”
Marsh, still breathless, whispered back, “You were wrong before, lover.Youaremine to protect.And you are mine to fight for, and fight with.”
Eli released a shuddering breath and simply let himself melt into Marsh.He was his, just as Marsh was Eli’s.And suddenly the world didn’t seem as terrifying as it once seemed.
****
Marsh thought thatthe moment was perfect.The sun caught the river just so, a gleam of gold over liquid sapphire, and the air had gone still, thick with something unspoken.
They stood at the river’s edge, Marsh leaning heavily on Eli, trusting him to hold his weight, both stripped down to their underwear. Not because either of them gave a damn about modesty—they’d already seen more of each other than most—but out of respect for the possibility that some unsuspecting local might decide to go for a nature walk and be treated to a surprise anatomy lesson.
Marsh rolled his eyes at the thought and braced himself.He gripped Eli’s arm a little harder without asking, and Eli wordlessly offered his support.Together, they navigated the uneven, rocky shore.Marsh’s balance shifted with each hop, and the riverbed made things trickier.Eli looped his arm around Marsh’s waist, steady and sure, and they moved as one until the water reached Marsh’s hips, the coolness of it stealing his breath.With practiced motion, Marsh released Eli and let himself glide forward, supported by the current.
Eli followed, watching carefully until Marsh gave a small nod—he had it.Then he slid in beside him, the water lapping at their skin, refreshing and brisk.They waded a bit further into the deeper part until they could float.
For a long time, they didn’t speak.
The water held them both in silence.Marsh floated on his back gently moving his arms to not go with the gentle movement of the river, the sun warm against his face, eyes half closed, listening to the soft splash of Eli’s arms as he swam slow laps in no particular pattern.The air was crisp and quiet, the kind of peace that came with being miles away from the world.
Still, Marsh could feel the tension rolling off Eli.It wasn’t like the usual, quiet kind—the kind that clung to survivors like a second skin.This was more like a brewing storm.
He let it sit.
Let it settle.
Waited.
And eventually, Eli spoke.
“He was everything I thought I wanted.”
Marsh opened his eyes and turned his head, floating upright until his foot found the rocky bottom.Eli had stopped swimming, arms wrapped around his torso as he stood waist-deep in the water, looking out across the glimmering slow current.
“Dominant,” Eli said, voice barely above the lapping of water.“With just the right amount of possession and caring.We met when I was still doing contract work for the VA.He was ...charming.Confident.Commanding, but not in a bad way.At least, not at first.”
Marsh didn’t speak.Just listened.
“He was protective.Said all the right things.Made me feel like I was his world.But slowly, so slowly, things shifted.I didn’t notice at first.He didn’t like my friends.Said they distracted me.Didn’t like my schedule.Said it wasn’t healthy.I thought he cared.Thought it was love.”
Eli’s jaw tightened.
“But it was about control.Every step of the way.I didn’t even realize I was isolated from everyone I knew until I had no one left to call.Then ...one day, a year in, he hit me.”
The words fell like stones into the river.
Eli looked out across the river, voice hardening.“And I stayed.Because I was stupid.Because I thought maybe it was me.Because by then I believed that I deserved it.That I’d let it happen.That I was broken and should just be grateful someone wanted me.”
Marsh’s hands fisted at his sides under the water.
“It escalated.Fast.But he was smart.Covered his tracks.Bruises where clothes hid them.Words where no one could hear.And he had connections—medical files went missing, reports redacted.I went to the police once.I think they filed it in a drawer marked ‘crazy ex.’”He snorted bitterly.“He knew how to twist things.How to make me question myself.I am a therapist, Marsh.I know the signs.And I still stayed.”
Marsh moved closer.Close enough that the water between them hummed with tension.
“It’s not your fault,” he said softly.
