Once, my paranoid love

“What?” I gasped, fixing my gaze on him, a mixture of disbelief and horror etched across my face.

“Yes, Elena,” Paul acknowledged, closing his eyes as if lost in a dark memory. The weight of his confession hung heavily in the room, a suffocating reality I struggled to grasp.

He continued, smiling, “but you were looking so lovely in that dress and that necklace,” his words, laced with an unsettling admiration, only intensified the discomfort in the air.

“So it’s not the fault of Derek. Any boy who sees you in that way will do the same,” he asserted, his rationalization adding another layer to the distorted reality.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

“So you gave me the chain,” I shouted at him, the revelation hitting me like a physical blow. Paul nodded in acknowledgment, his demeanor unapologetic.

Slap!

The force of the slap echoed through the room as my hand connected with Paul’s face. His hand instinctively reached for his cheek, a testament to the impact of my unleashed rage. In the aftermath of my fit of anger, I stood there, exhaling heavily.

I braced myself for a retaliatory storm, expecting Paul’s wrath to mirror the intensity of my own. However, to my surprise, his demeanor remained strangely composed. He stood there, his hand on his cheek, an almost serene acceptance of the consequence of his actions.

“Slap me even harder. I now understand how you felt when I hurt you. Now I’d like you to smack me even harder. But don’t leave me,” he uttered with a peculiar smile, as if inviting the storm to intensify.

What’s the matter with him? Why does he treat me so tenderly after the turmoil he’s caused?

For a fleeting moment, the atmosphere shifted, and I saw a glimpse of the old Paul, the one who once held a gentleness that had long been overshadowed by darker shades of his personality. It was a momentary revelation that left me conflicted.

Taking a step back, I hesitated, grappling with the conflicting emotions surging within me.

“Come on, change your clothes. We need to get out of here. I’m sure that jerk won’t let us leave so easily,” Paul explained, his words a stark reminder of the urgency of the situation.

“Paul, listen to me,” I urged, a plea in my voice as I attempted to bring some semblance of reason to the chaos that surrounded us.

“No, Elena,” Paul asserted, his grip tightening around me. “You actually listen to what I’m saying. This outfit should be changed,” he declared, his tone carrying an unexpected directive.

“Why are you so bossy?” I shouted, frustration bubbling to the surface as I resisted his attempts to control even the simplest of decisions.

“I’m not,” he retorted abruptly, tearing at my sleeves with a swift motion that caught me off guard.

“Paul!” I yelled, instinctively shielding my chest as the fabric gave way to his impulsive actions.

‘No, I’m not going to let him see my belly. I think he was still unaware of my existence,’ I thought, the instinct for self-preservation kicking in.

“Wait,” I responded abruptly, a plea for a momentary reprieve. “I’ll do it,” I added, determined to regain control over my own choices.

He smiled, an unexpected gentleness in his expression, and closed his eyes. “Okay, go ahead and do it. I’m not going to see you right now,” he declared.

Swiftly changing into a new outfit, I announced, “I’m done,” signaling the completion of the task at hand.

“Wow, you look fantastic. However, Elena, you appear to be overweight,” he stated, his comment a surprising twist that broke the tension in the room.

“But it’s no issue, I prefer fatty Elena,” he joked, his laughter breaking the years-long silence. The sound of his laughter, once familiar but long forgotten, echoed in the room.

“Let’s go,” Paul declared, scooping me up and guiding me outdoors. As we approached the car, a surge of adrenaline pulsed through me. This was my chance to escape, to break free from the entanglement of his control.

We entered the car, and the engine roared to life. The fleeting hope of freedom spurred me to action. I pushed the door open, a desperate attempt to reclaim autonomy as Paul initiated the car’s acceleration.

“It’s locked, Elena,” he calmly stated, a reminder that my escape was not as simple as opening a door. Panic set in as the reality of my predicament resurfaced.

“He’ll kill you, Paul,” I shouted angrily, the urgency of my words punctuating the gravity of the situation.

“He is unable to do so. I also don’t want to die right now. Because we have to run, make a family,” Paul chuckled, his words unveiling a vision of a future that clashed with the perilous present.

“Please, Paul,” I pleaded, the desperation in my voice belying the tumult within.

“I’m driving, Elena. Allow me to concentrate. We can’t die right now. I can’t bear seeing you die in front of my eyes. It is preferable that I die before you. Instead, if we die together, I’d like to close my eyes before you.”

“Stop blabbering!” I shouted, the weight of his words too heavy to bear. “I don’t want to die with you!”

“All I want is Derek,” I declared, a stark statement that halted the car in its tracks.

Paul stopped the car, and for a moment, the world around us seemed to freeze.

“Derek, Derek,” Paul’s voice rang out abruptly, the name reverberating in the confined space of the car.

“Why are you mentioning his name? You should know that I changed myself. If I’m not going to harm you, why are you saying his name?” he stated, his words tinged with frustration and anger.

“Because he is my husband, and you have the power to damage me. I’m no longer terrified of you,” I declared, a surge of strength propelling me to strike my elbow against the car’s glass mirror.

“Ah!”

“Why are you so careless?” he questioned, as he halted the car.