Hurtful Past

Oriana hesitated, but Arlan continued to gently caress her hands, trying to provide comfort and encouragement. 

"You can take your time," Arlan said, his voice steady. "I can wait, unless you do not trust me enough?"

She pursed her lips, reluctance evident on her face. It was not a matter of trust. This was a secret she had never shared with anyone, not even her grandpa. Arlan's persistence, however, encouraged her to speak, even though finding the right words was a challenge.

"It's just…No one knows about it," she began, her head still lowered.

"Let me be the first," Arlan's voice was soft, his touch reassuring.

Perhaps it was the gentleness of the evening breeze, or the earthy scent lingering in the garden, or his comforting warmth presence—maybe a combination of all three—but the barrier in her heart began to lower.

Taking a deep breath, Oriana chose to open up. "I...I was abducted when I was a young girl."