Once, my paranoid love

The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows that danced on the walls. Elena found solace in the pages of a novel, slowly she fell in sleep.

Elena still half-dreaming in the warmth of her cozy chair, found herself abruptly awakened by the sweet voice of her daughter.Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Mom’ma.”

Elena’s eyes, heavy with sleep, widened in surprise as she looked at Paulina standing before her. Weariness clung to her like a heavy shroud, but there was something in Paulina’s gaze that demanded attention.

“Why are you here? It’s time for you to go to bed,” Elena murmured, avoiding direct eye contact, as if afraid of the emotions that lurked beneath the surface.

Paulina, undeterred, took a step closer, her small fingers reaching out to touch Elena’s legs. Elena, feeling the gentle caress, leaned back, a nervous tension settling in the air.

“Mom’ma.”

As Paulina persistently tried to crawl into her lap, Elena’s hands trembled at the touch of her daughter’s fingertips. Overwhelmed, she closed her eyes, a feeble attempt to contain the flood of emotions threatening to spill over. With a shaky hand, she gently held Paulina, ensuring that the little girl wouldn’t slip off her lap.

“Mo-ma.”

Elena’s world swirled in a chaotic blend of panic and confusion. Her body betrayed her, succumbing to the overwhelming force of a panic attack triggered by Paulina’s touch. Gasping for air, she struggled to maintain control as her vision blurred, and her surroundings threatened to fade away.

“Mo-ma, wha-t’?” Paulina’s voice pierced through the haze, reaching Elena’s ears as if from a distant place. Every word felt like a lifeline, a connection to reality that was slipping away.

She tried to open her mouth to draw in oxygen, but the air refused to comply. Darkness loomed on the edges of her vision, threatening to engulf her entirely.

In the critical moment, someone intervened, a reassuring presence that materialized in the form of Derek. He arrived just in time, a lifeline in the tempest of Elena’s panic. His strong hands enveloped her, grounding her in the reality that seemed to slip away.

“It’s all right, honey. Continue to take deep breaths. I’m here,” he reassured her, his voice a steady anchor in the storm.

Derek’s hands moved in soothing strokes on Elena’s back, a rhythmic motion meant to coax her erratic breaths into a semblance of calm. Yet, Elena felt herself spiraling further, the weight of the panic attack threatening to pull her into an abyss of helplessness.

As Derek’s touch attempted to steady her, Elena lost control over her body. The struggle for breath intensified each gasp a battle against the invisible chains that constricted her chest. In those agonizing moments, she teetered on the edge of consciousness, her senses fading into a disorienting blur.

When clarity slowly seeped back into her awareness, Elena found herself cradled in Derek’s arms. The world seemed weightless, and for a fleeting moment, she questioned if Paulina had slipped off her lap. With a tentative gaze, she turned her eyes toward Derek.

To her relief, she saw Derek’s gentle back rubs and, to her surprise, Paulina nestled on his other arm.

“Mom-ma, cry,” Paulina’s innocent observation echoed in the quiet aftermath of Elena’s panic attack. Elena lowered her gaze, a mixture of vulnerability and exhaustion etched on her face.

“Honey, are you all right now?” Derek’s gentle inquiry broke the silence, his eyes filled with both worry and a steady reassurance. Elena, still catching her breath, nodded in response and reached for the inhaler-a tangible lifeline in moments of distress.

“Dad-dy, mom-ma cry.”

“No, baby, she was a little sick. Let us now go to our room. Daddy is going to tell you a story. Say goodbye to your mom,” he said, shielding Paulina from the weight of the moment.

He gently guided Paulina away, creating a buffer between the remnants of Elena’s distress and the child’s impressionable mind.

“Good-night, mom-ma,” Paulina’s sweet voice echoed in the hallway, her small hand waving as she disappeared into her room. Derek accompanied her, the door closing gently behind them, leaving Elena standing alone.

As the door clicked shut, a wave of fatigue washed over Elena, and she pressed her fingertips to her temples. The respite from the panic attack was fleeting, and a persistent headache. She took a deep breath, attempting to stave off the encroaching pain, and then turned her attention to the window.

The night outside was surprisingly bright, the moon casting a silvery glow over the landscape. A chilly wind stirred, tousling Elena’s hair as she leaned against the window frame.

Elena’s gaze lingered on the moonlit scene, the cool breeze carrying a semblance of peace. In that quiet moment, she murmured to the stillness, as if confiding in the night itself, “You know, she has a striking resemblance to you. Surprisingly, the small version of you has the same eyes, hair, and nose.”

“I can’t even hold her in my arms because her fragrance reminds me of yours. It appears that I have you in my grip.”

One hour later, the room draped in the hushed hues of midnight, Derek approached Elena. She had succumbed to sleep once again, the chair cradling her in its weary embrace. Gently placing his hand on her shoulder, Derek called her name, his voice a soft ripple in the quiet room.

“Elena,” he said, repeating her name in an attempt to rouse her from her slumber. He called her several times until she stirred, responding in a tired, sleepy tone.

“Derek,” she murmured, her eyes narrowing as if waking to an unpleasant reality.

‘Babe, it’s too late. You need to take medicine and need to sleep,” he suggested, concern etched on his face.

“I am okay,” she insisted, shifting her gaze away from him as if avoiding a confrontation with the truth.

“Elena, it is not how everything goes. You need to involve yourself in something,” Derek urged.

Elena remained silent, her internal struggles cast in the shadows of her weary gaze.

Derek sighed, recognizing the futility of his attempts to break through the walls Elena had erected around herself. Despite her disregard, he persisted, “Can’t you give some attention to your health?”