Once, my paranoid love

Paul’s eyes, despite the exhaustion and torment he had endured, sparkled with joy at the sight of me. The dark circles under his eyes were a stark reminder of the sleepless nights he had endured, and I couldn’t help but feel a heavy burden of guilt settle upon my shoulders. This was all my fault, I thought, for the choices I had made.

His words, laced with bitterness, cut through the silence between us, “You came here for me, didn’t you, Elena? You left that bastard, didn’t you?”

I hesitated for a moment, torn between the truths I had come to realize and the deep connection I still felt for Paul. Ignoring his question, I diverted the conversation, my voice filled with concern, “Why haven’t you been eating?”

A wistful smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he replied, “Because I knew that if I die, I’ll see you.”

His words pierced my heart, and I knew that I had to act, no matter the obstacles that lay ahead. I took a deep breath and placed the tray of food on the cold, dusty floor, determination etched across my face.

“Paul, you need to eat,” I said firmly, my voice carrying a hint of frustration. “Do you understand what you’ve done to yourself?”

With a quiet resignation in his voice, Paul responded, “You’re not here, so it doesn’t matter.”

It was clear that Paul’s self-destructive behavior was a reflection of the torment he had been through.

“Paul, please,” I implored, my voice wavering. “Eat.”

Paul’s request hung in the air, his voice a desperate plea. “Feed me with your hands, or else I won’t touch anything,” he said.

His words tugged at my heartstrings, and for a moment, I felt like the weight of the world rested on my shoulders.

Paul’s request hung in the air, his voice a desperate plea. “Feed me with your hands, or else I won’t touch anything,” he said.

His words tugged at my heartstrings, and for a moment, I felt like the weight of the world rested on my shoulders.

With a heavy heart, I sat down in front of him, the tray of food between us. I took a deep breath, trying to gather the courage to proceed. Holding the spoon in my hand, I offered it to him, my voice trembling as I said, “Eat now.”

I avoided looking directly at him, unable to meet his gaze. The silence in the dimly lit basement was suffocating, as if it held all the unspoken words and unhealed wounds between us. My fingers tightened around the spoon, my heart racing as I waited for Paul to take it.

And then I felt it-a gentle touch on my cheek. My breath caught in my throat as his fingers brushed my skin, and my hand holding the spoon trembled. I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze, for fear of what I might find there.

Paul’s words cut through the thick veil of tension that had enveloped us. “After so long, I can touch you now,” he said, his voice filled with longing and relief.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

I couldn’t help but feel the weight of those words.

It was as if fate had toyed with me, tearing me apart and then allowing this fragile connection to rekindle. The conflicting emotions swirling within me left me feeling helpless, torn between the love I still held for Paul and the commitment I had made to Derek.

My heart ached as Paul finally took the food, and he held my left hand as he ate. I allowed our hands to remain intertwined, unable to pull away from this bittersweet moment.

Paul devoured the food as if he hadn’t eaten in days, which was likely the case. The signs of hunger and fatigue were etched onto his face, but in this moment, all that mattered was that he was here with me.

As he finished the last bite, I asked hesitantly, “Do you want to eat more?”

Paul blinked his eyes while chewing, and after swallowing, he shook his head. “I want to sleep, Elena,” he said, his voice laced with exhaustion.

My gaze locked onto his, and in that moment, I saw the toll that the past few days had taken on him. His eyes, once so vibrant, were now filled with fatigue and shadows of despair. I felt the urge to protect and care for him, to erase the suffering he had endured.

I began to rise from my seated position, intending to leave him to rest. But as I made to stand, I felt his grip tighten on my left hand. His voice, soft but filled with vulnerability, reached my ears. “You know I can’t sleep without you.”

Those words pierced my heart like a dagger.

I pressed my lips tightly together as I grappled with the maelstrom of emotions surging within me. I had been trying so hard to resist the pull of my feelings and to maintain the commitment I had made to Derek. But as I gazed into Paul’s eyes, filled with a yearning I knew all too well, I realized that I needed to face this emotional tempest one last time.

I turned back to the maid who had guided me here and made a quiet yet resolute request, “Please, open the gate.”

Her hesitation was palpable; the fear of what could happen was apparent in her eyes.

“But ma’am…” She began to voice her concerns, but I interrupted her with unwavering determination. “Nothing will happen.”

That girl unlocked the door, and I stepped inside. Paul knelt on the ground, his eyes fixed on me, his face alight with a bright, hopeful smile.

The sight of him, with that unguarded smile and the look of sheer joy, tugged at my heartstrings. I was seeing the boy I once knew-the boy I had played with, laughed with, and, at one time, deeply loved.

Paul’s arms enveloped me, pulling me closer, his grip tight as if he was afraid I might vanish. He buried his head against my waist, and I felt his warm breath through my clothes. In that moment, he whispered to me, his voice filled with a longing that reached deep into my soul, “Elena, I’ve missed you, love. I promise I’ll never do such things again.”