I grabbed onto him anyway, compassion making my throat tight. I scooted close to him, and simply wrapped my arms around him, murmuring, “It’s okay. It’s okay.” Awash with a whole storm of emotion, my heart constricted when he uttered a broken cry and I tightened my hold convulsively when he tried to break it. A tremor coursed through him, and he buried his face against my neck, his hand spanning my head, his breath hot against my skin. With a deep, shuddering sigh, he settled his weight against me. Tenderness stole through me as I held him. “I’ve got you,” I said softly into the silence as his breathing quieted. “You’re safe.” Charlie used to say those words when I was upset, and they always made me feel better. He shook his head as if disagreeing with me. He pushed at me, but I didn’t want to let him go. This must be some kind of a flashback. Had he been in the military? In the war? Who was Elsa? He pushed me away and I reluctantly let my arms drop. He got to his knees and knelt there, his head hanging for a moment.
