Old Days Break Free [ON HOLD]

21

Hibiscus

Lorraine's POV

"Why do you look so down?" Athena's question cut through the air with a sharp coldness, matching the crisp night around us.

We were seated in a cozy corner of an Italian restaurant, sharing dinner.

I had invited her after visiting her hospital earlier, for no real reason—just wanting to be near someone familiar.

She had just finished her shift, and it worked out that we could meet here.

We arrived in separate cars, keeping our individual spaces, yet here we were, sitting across from each other, sharing the same meal.

We both ordered simple pasta and a bottle of strawberry wine, her favorite.

I could tell she noticed my disinterest in the food.

My mind was elsewhere.

"Nothing... How's your day?" I attempted to divert the conversation, but my voice betrayed me, carrying the weight of my unspoken thoughts.

The truth was, I still felt heavy inside, burdened by something I couldn’t fully express.

"I'm asking you. Answer me. Are you okay?" Athena’s voice softened but remained persistent, her gaze steady.

She wasn’t going to let me hide behind my words. I sighed deeply, setting my fork and knife down, feeling the tension seep out in that breath.

I looked up and met her eyes.

For the first time, I truly noticed how captivating they were—dark, deep, but not hollow.

It wasn’t the emptiness I expected to find.

Instead, her eyes were like a well, dark yet filled with meaning, pulling me in with a quiet intensity.

"I don't think my mental therapy sessions are going well," I finally admitted, my voice quieter now, as if speaking the truth made it more real.

I had convinced myself I was getting better, that I was on the right path, but lately, something had shifted.

There were days when hallucinations would creep back in, faint echoes of my mind’s fragility.

And more than that, there was this aching loneliness, a feeling that I was losing touch with love and attention, as though they were slipping through my fingers like sand.

I couldn’t understand why.

Why did I still feel this way when I was supposed to be healing?

"What do you mean?" Athena’s question was gentle, yet probing, and for a moment, I hesitated.

Fear gripped me—not a fear of her judgment, but something deeper, a fear of confronting the truth within myself.

"Tell me, I would never judge you again, I promise," she said softly, her tone so tender, it almost melted the defenses I had carefully built.