This Means Love!

Chapter 1: Part 6

A few days passed, yet Jason's grief lingered like a dark cloud, heavy and unrelenting. The days blurred into one another, each one a stark reminder of the life he had lost. As he walked through a busy street in Goa, the lively sounds of the market did little to distract him. The sun beat down mercilessly, and the air smelled of salt and spices, yet none registered in Jason’s numb state.

As he rounded a corner, a crowd caught his attention. A tight cluster of people had formed on the roadside, murmuring among themselves, their expressions ranging from curiosity to concern. Jason’s gut twisted. Something about the energy in the crowd unsettled him, and he moved closer to investigate.

Pushing through the wall of onlookers, he finally saw what had everyone’s attention. A large, burly man with angry eyes and a furious expression was shouting, his face flushed. He had a tight grip on a woman’s arm, shaking her violently. Jason’s heart sank when he realized the woman was Anna.

Anna stood there, a picture of fragility. Her long hair was disheveled, and her dress hung loosely over her thin frame. Yet her face remained impassive, utterly void of emotion, even as the man berated her and tightened his hold. She didn’t struggle, didn’t fight back, just stood there, letting herself be manhandled like a lifeless doll.

Jason felt a surge of anger flare in his chest. He couldn’t stand by any longer. Pushing past the last few spectators, he inserted himself between Anna and her aggressor, his voice cutting through the chaos.

“Hey! Let go of her,” he commanded, his tone firm and unyielding.

The man glared at Jason, taken aback for a moment before his eyes narrowed. He had a heavyset build and a beard streaked with gray, his fists clenched as though he were ready for a fight. “Who the hell are you?” the man spat, his grip on Anna’s arm loosening only slightly.

Jason stood his ground, his jaw clenched. “That doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice strong but controlled. “What matters is that you don’t get to assault a woman, no matter what your reason is.”

The man let out a bitter laugh, his breath reeking of alcohol. “Assault?” he mocked. “You think I want to be here doing this? I’m just trying to get my money back, the money her worthless husband borrowed and never repaid. I’ve been more than patient, but she keeps telling me she can’t pay, and I’m done waiting.”

Jason’s eyes flicked to Anna, who still had not reacted. Her eyes were distant, her face pale and ghostly. He turned back to the man, trying to keep his own temper in check. “I understand that you’re owed money,” Jason said, “but beating her won’t solve anything. It’s not right.”

The man’s face twisted in fury, his voice rising. “Not right?” he bellowed. “I need that money to feed my kids! If she can’t pay, she should find a place to bury herself with that good-for-nothing husband of hers. Or better yet, if she wants to keep living, she can sell herself and pay us all back.”

The sheer cruelty of the statement made Jason snap. His hand moved before he could think, and he slapped the man across the face. The sound cracked through the crowd, silencing the murmuring onlookers. The man stumbled back, his hand flying to his cheek in shock.

Jason stepped forward, his voice trembling with rage. “How dare you?” he hissed. “What if someone said that about your mother, your wife, or your daughter? How would you feel? Her husband just died, and instead of showing an ounce of compassion, you choose to beat her for something she had no control over? Where’s your humanity?”

The man glared at Jason, but his bravado had deflated. He mumbled something under his breath, but the crowd had already begun to lose interest. People started to disperse, their curiosity satisfied now that the confrontation seemed over. Defeated, the man turned on his heel and stalked off, grumbling as he went.

Jason let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. His hands were still trembling from the surge of adrenaline. He turned to Anna, expecting—hoping—to see some sign of relief or gratitude. Instead, she just stared at him, her expression as blank as ever, her eyes glassy and cold.

Anna’s gaze pierced him, as though she were looking right through him. “Why did you save me?” she asked, her voice flat, almost robotic.

Jason was caught off guard. He searched her face for any trace of emotion, but there was none. “Because,” he began, struggling to find the words, “he was wrong. You shouldn’t be punished for something your husband did.”

Anna tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing. “I didn’t ask you to save me,” she said. Her voice held no trace of warmth, and Jason felt his initial concern start to twist into something darker: frustration.

He swallowed hard, his patience wearing thin. “Why are you acting like this?” he burst out, his voice rising. “What’s the matter with you? You don’t seem to care about anything, not even your own safety!”

Anna remained silent, her face an impenetrable mask. Jason felt his anger drain away, replaced by a deep, aching sadness. He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Please,” he pleaded, his eyes searching hers. “Say something. Anything. I just… I need to understand. The incident that shattered my whole world—doesn’t it mean anything to you? How can you be so unaffected?”

For the first time, something flickered across Anna’s face. It was gone so quickly that Jason couldn’t decipher it, but it had been there—a spark of something real. She drew in a slow breath, her lips parting as she finally broke the silence.

“You really want to know?” she asked, her voice low, almost challenging.

Jason nodded, his heart pounding. “Yes,” he said. “I need to know.”

Anna’s eyes darkened. “Then come with me,” she said. She turned and started walking away, her steps slow but deliberate. Jason hesitated for only a moment before following her, his curiosity and need for answers outweighing his unease. Whatever truth lay ahead, he knew he had to face it.