Life With The Men I Love: Lies, Love and Pain

Chapter 6

$$$ INDIA $$$

"Knock, knock," came the soft sound at the bathroom door.

"Who is it?" I asked, my voice thick with emotion as I sniffled.

"It's Gloria," her thick Mexican accent called from the other side, warm yet firm.

"Go away," I replied, hoping my tone would convince her to leave me alone. But instead of retreating, the door creaked open, and Gloria stepped inside, her expression a mix of concern and sympathy.

"I thought I told you to go away," I mumbled, turning my gaze downward, ashamed of my appearance.

Instead of responding, she simply stared at me, her eyes searching mine for a glimpse of the person I used to be. Self-conscious, I shifted uncomfortably on the edge of the bathtub, my heart pounding with a mix of gratitude and resentment.

Without a word, Gloria moved closer, her gentle presence offering a comfort I desperately needed. She grabbed a washcloth, wetting it at the sink beside me, the sound of running water echoing in the stillness of the bathroom. She knelt down, her hands steady as she held my chin, lifting my head so she could examine my face.

"Hold still," she said softly, her voice laced with an unspoken understanding. She began to wipe the blood from my nose, her touch tender and careful. I could feel the warmth of her compassion wash over me, even as the sting of the cloth brought back the pain of what had happened.

After she washed the blood away, Gloria placed the soiled cloth in the laundry basket and left the room, only to return moments later. "Hold this on your eye," she instructed, placing a bag of ice against the swelling.

Wincing from the cold and the pain, I sighed deeply, feeling the weight of my situation settle around me like a heavy blanket. Gloria turned her attention to the tub, filling it with warm water, the steam curling into the air, creating a cocoon of warmth that felt inviting yet suffocating.

For a moment, she stared at me, her eyes filled with a blend of sympathy and concern. Finally, she broke the silence. "This needs to stop."

"I know," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "You think I don't know that?"

"Even if you do, you're still not doing anything to stop it. You keep leaving, but at the end of the day, you're back here," she pointed out, her tone matter-of-fact.

"What do you want me to do, leave him?" I shot back, frustration bubbling over as I stared back at her, feeling trapped in a cycle I couldn't break.

"Whatever you want to do is up to you, Mrs. Salvator," she said, the formality stinging more than I expected.

"Just call me India," I replied, my voice cracking slightly.

The bathroom fell silent, the tension palpable as I wrestled with my emotions. Finally, I spoke again, my voice trembling. "Sometimes I want to, but I can't. I love him too much." Tears streamed down my cheeks, the reality of my love mingling with the pain I was in.

"I know you do," Gloria said softly, her eyes softening. "Mr. Salvator loves you very much too. I can see it in the way he looks at you and the twinkle in his eyes when he speaks of you. He just doesn't show it well lately."

Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I hopped off the counter, feeling the weight of my emotions settle heavily in my chest. "Thank you, Gloria," I murmured, appreciating her presence more than words could convey.

"You're welcome, India. Now get cleaned up. I'll have dinner waiting for you when you're done," she said, her tone maternal as she turned to leave.

"Gloria, wait," I called, desperation creeping into my voice.

"Yes?" she replied, pausing in the doorway.

"Can you set up the guest room next to Adrianna's for me, please?"

"Sure," she smiled, her warmth wrapping around me like a lifeline as she stepped out, closing the door behind her.

I turned to face the mirror, and a wave of shock washed over me. I could hardly recognize myself. My left eye was nearly swollen shut, surrounded by dark purples and blues that marred my skin. A cut on my nose was a painful reminder of the argument that had spiraled out of control, and my right cheek was puffy, a testament to the anger that had manifested in violence. My t-shirt was stained with blood, and my curly hair clung to my face, wild and unkempt.

This really needs to stop, I thought, my heart heavy with the realization that I was beginning to lose myself. I felt trapped in a cycle of love and pain, where every embrace held a promise of safety but also the threat of despair. I needed to find a way out, not just for me, but for Adrianna and for the person I once was—the person I longed to be again.

Pic of Gloria Above.