Breathless ✓

Twenty - Six ✔

The gentle light filtering through the curtains paints the room in muted hues as I slowly awaken. The dull throb in my head serves as a bitter reminder of the emotional tempest that had swept through the night. Blinking against the light, I find myself propped up on the bed, disoriented but aware of Christian's presence nearby.

Christian glances over from where he's been sitting, a reassuring expression on his face. "How are you feeling?"

I attempt a small, wincing smile. "Like I got hit by a truck."

He hands me a glass of water and a couple of pain relievers. I gratefully accept, hoping they'll dull the persistent ache in my head. As I sip the water, Christian watches with a mixture of concern and understanding.

"Last night was... intense," he says cautiously. "Do you remember what happened?"

The events of the previous night flood my mind, a disjointed sequence of emotions and actions. "I remember the argument," I admit, the memories still raw. "And then, I think I fainted."

Christian nods, his expression gentle. "Do you want to talk about it? What led to the argument?"

Taking a deep breath, I decide it's time to lay bare a part of my past that I've kept hidden for too long. "When I was seventeen, Matteo and a couple of guys killed my mom."

Christian's eyes widen with shock and concern, realization dawning on him. "Matteo... the guy from last night?"

I nod, my gaze fixed on some distant point. "He spent seven years in jail, but he got out. I didn't think he'd find me here."

Christian's face tightens with a mix of concern and disbelief as he gently squeezes my shoulder. "You gotta tell me everything that happened," he instructs softly.

The memories flood back, and I find myself transported to a time of innocence shattered by unimaginable horror.

"We were taking our groceries down the street. It was late, and we had to get home..."

"What's for dinner tonight?" I ask mom.

"If your dad didn't cook anything, pizza," She replies back.

"I bet 10 bucks he made something the minute he knew you were going to be late," I giggle.

She smiles back, knowingly.

The mundane conversation echoes in my mind, a stark contrast to the nightmare that unfolded next. We talk as we go down the street to our car, oblivious to the shadows that lurk behind us, stalking our every move. I open the car, and just as I'm about to put the groceries in, a hand yanks me back, making me drop everything.

I come face to face with burly man.

"Hey, let me go," I struggle against him.

"Not so quick, darling," his alcoholic breath hits my face, making me gag.

He rests his hands in my behind and squeezes it. I feel his touch, his grip on me becoming increasingly invasive.

"Leave my daughter alone." Mom is next to me in a minute.

"Daughter?" The second one laughs with the other three.

"Leave us alone, you asshole." I push against him, but he tightens his grip, making me cry out in pain.

The other one takes ahold of my mom.

"Hey, leave her alone, you douche." I punch his face with my free hand, knee him in the groin.