𝐹𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑋𝑜𝑛𝑒

𝑋𝐿𝐼𝐼

In that moment, I saw Janet differently. She wasn't just the confident, strong woman I had always admired; she was someone in need, someone struggling. What she had shared with me wasn't just a confession, it was a cry for help. And as much as she tried to hold it together, I could see that she wasn't strong enough to face this alone. Her words about fear and death haunted me. It was more than just a cry for help, it was serious, and I could feel the weight of it pressing down on my chest.

But I didn't want to freak her out. She didn't seem to understand just how heavy her words were. She was still trying to act like nothing had happened, like everything was fine. We packed our bags, and Joey helped us onto the private jet, but the tension lingered between us.

Once we were in the air, I lay in her lap, trying to focus on the calmness of the moment, to breathe alongside her. The window in front of me offered a clear view of the clouds we were flying through, but I was more focused on Janet. She had fallen asleep, her face peaceful and serene. I couldn't help but stare, captivated by her beauty. Her high cheekbones, her defined jawline, those soft lips, everything about her was perfect. Her eyes were closed, and she looked like an angel, completely unaware of the world around her, wrapped up in her own quiet rest.

I wanted to protect her more than anything. I wanted to shield her from the harshness of the world, to make sure she was happy and at peace, just like she looked in that moment. She deserved to live freely, to be who she truly was, without fear. As I gently stroked her hair, I vowed to stand by her, to support her in every way I could. No matter how difficult things got, I would be there for her. She deserved nothing less.

We got home, and I pretended everything was normal. I didn't want Janet to know how deeply worried I was. I could see how much she was struggling, and it hurt to know she was carrying that weight alone. The next day, as she left for work, I felt a pang in my chest. I wanted nothing more than to put an end to her suffering, to make sure she was happy and free of stress. She deserved to live her life without the constant fear and pressure, and I knew deep down, she deserved to choose happiness over anything else.

I left the house, telling her I had work. It was a lie, and for the first time, I lied to her face. My heart clenched as I spoke the words, knowing I was doing it for her, so she wouldn't worry. But as I pulled out of her driveway, the guilt gnawed at me. I didn't have work; I had something more important to do.

I grabbed my phone and called Jared. As the line rang, my mind raced with plans, with thoughts of how I could help her, how I could be the one to make her see she deserved to be free from all of this.

I listened to the phone ring, my mind racing, until it finally stopped. I didn't give Jared a second to answer. "Jared," I said, my voice panicked as I quickly pulled over to the side of the road.

"Mariah, what happened?" I could hear the concern in his voice, the faint sound of an office telephone ringing in the background, indicating he was at work.

"I'm sorry, are you working?" I asked, trying to calm myself down, but my hands were shaking.

"Yes, but that can wait. What's up?" His voice was steady, though I could hear the underlying worry.

I took a deep breath, trying to collect myself. "She needs my help, Jared."

"Who?"

"My girlfriend," I said, swallowing hard. "She told me she fears coming out more than she fears death." I could feel the weight of my words, and I wanted to cry just saying it out loud.

"Oh," Jared replied, his tone softening.

"Yeah, it's bad. I'm scared, and I won't feel better until I help her," I admitted, my voice thick with emotion.