The Weight of Silence

Road to recovery

Elara threw herself into her work with a fervor she hadn't known she possessed. The trauma that had stripped her of her self-worth left a gaping hole in her soul, but professionally, she found some semblance of control. She became the best in her field—sharper, quicker, more strategic than ever before. She negotiated deals with a steely precision, her colleagues admiring her as she made decisions with an almost ruthless efficiency. On the outside, she appeared stronger than ever. But on the inside, she was crumbling.

The feeling of worthlessness clung to her, shaping the way she saw herself. She didn't feel like a woman anymore. She felt broken, damaged, and undeserving of love or affection. Mateo, for all the complications in their relationship, was the only constant in her life. He was the one familiar thing in her world, and so, despite everything, she went back to him. She didn't know how to see past him. The idea of leaving him felt like stepping into a void, and she wasn't ready to face that darkness alone.

But even though she returned to him, things had changed. Deep down, she hadn't yet matured enough to fully comprehend the toxic nature of their bond. Her heart still believed in the love she once felt, and she clung to that, ignoring the glaring flaws that had become impossible to overlook.

Mateo had changed, too. Over the years, his affection morphed into something darker. At first, it was subtle. He would question her about her friends, asking where she had been or who she had been with. Elara, still struggling to regain any sense of confidence in herself, didn't see it as a red flag. She didn't think she was worth being jealous over. She couldn't fathom why Mateo would be possessive of her. After all, she had lost her beauty, her allure—at least, that's what she told herself.

As time passed, Mateo's jealousy grew. He couldn't stand the thought of Elara going out with her friends, of her having fun or being carefree in ways that didn't include him. He became overbearing, watching her every move, questioning her constantly. The man who once made her feel special now made her feel trapped.

Elara didn't fight it. In a way, she thought she deserved it. She believed that if Mateo's possessiveness was a sign of his affection, then perhaps it was the only kind of love she deserved. She no longer felt like a woman who could inspire genuine love, so she accepted his controlling behavior as part of her penance. She wasn't living—she was merely surviving, going through the motions of a relationship that had long since lost its warmth.

Three years into their relationship, Mateo's jealousy turned from words into actions. He began monitoring her more closely—checking her phone, questioning her every interaction. He would make snide comments about her appearance, criticizing the way she dressed or the makeup she wore. He didn't want her to go out, didn't want her to be seen by anyone else, especially other men. Elara, in her fragile state, didn't push back. She had already lost her sense of worth, so she let his words wash over her, further cementing the idea that she wasn't desirable or valuable.One evening, after a particularly grueling day at work, Elara met up with Irina for a drink. It was the first time she had been out in weeks, and for a brief moment, she felt a flicker of the old her. The bar was loud, filled with people laughing and enjoying themselves. She tried to join in, tried to be present, but the shadow of Mateo's jealousy followed her everywhere.

When she returned home, Mateo was waiting for her. His eyes were dark with suspicion, and before she could even explain where she had been, he accused her of seeing someone else."Who were you with?" he demanded, his voice cold. "Why do you keep dressing like this? Are you trying to get attention?"