𝗔𝗹𝗲𝘅𝗶𝘁𝗵𝘆𝗺𝗶𝗮 - TMR AU, Minho.

28 - 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯

"Two years you said?" I nodded as the officer asked me once again.

Newt's face was still flashing in my mind, the shock in his eyes when I told him. I could still hear the crack in his voice as he asked why I never told him. How could I explain the fear, the shame that choked me? It was easier to pretend, to bury everything deep and hope it would disappear.

But there I was, unraveling each moment in front of strangers, the details spilling out like a broken dam. I saw the officers taking notes, their expressions a mix of sympathy and professionalism.

"And how did you meet him?"

"I saw him in the backstage of the theatre. He complimented my acting and invited me for a drink, but I didn't go."

The officer nodded, assuring me to continue. "Then one day I went to the bar to take my mind off of.. some things." My voice slightly cracked as I was reminded of that night.

"Are those things important for the case?"

"No, no. I met him there again, and he insisted on buying me a drink. I agreed."

He nodded once again and motioned me to continue. "After that, he offered to take me home since it was getting late. I got it as a nice gesture and agreed." I took a sharp breath. "Then.. it happened for the first time."

"And it has been going on ever since?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you tell anyone before now?"

"He was threatening me that he would hurt the ones I love."

"Usually people say that just to scare the victim."

"Yeah, but not him. He broke Thomas's—My friend's nose because I wouldn't answer his calls."

I could see that he was surprised but he managed to maintain serious expression. "How do you know that it was him?"

"He told me himself."

"Okay. I think that's enough for today. I will call your brother if we find anything." He gave me a reassuring smile as he closed his notebook.

❁❁❁❁

"How'd it go?" Newt asked as soon as I got in the car.

"Good, I guess."

Newt patted my shoulder. "Everything will get better, okay? I'm with you now."

I nodded, although I couldn't shake the sense that something was off, like a distant storm gathering strength. It wasn't anything specific—just a heaviness, an intuition that the peace I had found was fragile, ready to shatter at the slightest touch. I tried to focus on the good, but the feeling clung to me, murmuring that the calm wouldn't last.

"Can we go to the bar?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah. You haven't been there for a while because of me,"

"Don't say that Mil. I couldn't care less about the band if you're not okay. Your safety comes first, then anything else." His tone was stern, but not angry. More like caring.

I rested my head against the window, trying to shake the bad feeling in my stomach.

Everything will be okay now. Everything will get better now.