Maybe

Chapter 11 Mom?

[This chapter contains sensitive words]

__Nina__

I tried to break free, but his grip was too strong, leaving me feeling powerless and trapped. Just as despair set in, a sudden blow landed on him, causing him to bleed. Shocked, I stood frozen in place.

"How dare you touch her!" a voice exclaimed angrily, drawing the attention of the onlookers. Janice hurried over, restraining the man named Ethan. "He's drunk, Ethan. Let's get out of here," she pleaded, her voice urgent with concern. The man, still bleeding, shot a final glare at me before stumbling away.

Confused and disoriented, I couldn't gauge my own state of mind, my head spinning as everything around me faded to black. I struggled to recall what happened next.

I gradually opened my eyes, the warmth of the morning sun gently kissing my face. As I blinked away the remnants of sleep, I realized I was in a familiar bed, my own bed. Confusion washed over me as I noticed my clothes had been changed. "Was it all just a dream?" I murmured to myself, the events of the previous days still hazy in my mind.

After a moment, I decided to get up and freshen up. As I moved about the room, a delightful aroma wafted in from the kitchen. "What's that smell?" I wondered aloud, curiosity piqued. I ventured out of my room and found Ethan sitting comfortably on the couch.

"So it wasn't a dream," I thought, a mix of relief and curiosity flooding my senses. My gaze shifted to the table, where Ethan had laid out a spread of breakfast. Despite my initial hesitation, hunger gnawed at me; I hadn't eaten much in days.

"This smells amazing," I remarked softly, drawn to the food despite my conflicted feelings. Watching Ethan, I couldn't help but marvel at his abilities. It seemed he was good at everything he put his mind to.

"Why did you ignore my calls and texts?" he asked, his voice tinged with coldness, as though the wounds from last night were still fresh. He didn't even bother to meet my eyes.

"Why are you here?" I countered, unsure of where this confrontation was leading.

"So, what, you wanted that jerk to be here? Why did you even drink? Don't you think you should know your limits?" His gaze finally met mine, and I found myself unable to hold it.

"So? Why do you even care?" My voice faltered, a mix of confusion and hurt bubbling to the surface.

In the midst of our conversation, my phone rang, and I quickly answered it.

"Hello?" I said.

"Hello, Nina?" a familiar voice replied.

Nina: Oh, hi there.

Nina's Mom: How are you, dear? I'm on my way.

Nina: On your way from where?

Nina's Mom: I'll be there soon, and I'm bringing some guests with me.

Nina: Oh, where are you right now?

Nina's Mom: Not far, just about 15-20 minutes away, okay?

Nina: Alright, see you later then.

After exchanging these words, I ended the call.

I approached him swiftly, gently pushing him towards the door. "Leave, some guests are on their way," I instructed firmly. He looked puzzled, asking, "Could you tell me who these guests are?"