Three weeks ago, my ex-wife d.ied in a car accident, and in an instant, the world tilted off its axis.
Even though we hadn’t been together for years, she was still our son’s mother. She was still the person who had given him half of his world.
And when she was gone, something inside him seemed to collapse.
Jake is fourteen—tall for his age, his voice already beginning to change.
But since the funeral, he somehow looked smaller.
Like grief had folded him inward.
At first, Jake tried to act like everything was normal.
He went to school.
He nodded politely when teachers offered their condolences.
He shrugged when I asked how he was doing.
“I’m fine,” he kept saying.
But I could see it wasn’t true.
The real storm came at night.
The first nightmare came without warning.
I woke up to Jake screaming my name like someone drowning.
I ran into his room and found him curled into a tight ball on the bed, shaking so violently the mattress trembled beneath him.
His eyes were open.
But they weren’t seeing the room.
What happened next changed everything…
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