Once, my paranoid love

Derek kissed on Paulina’s cheek tenderly.

Yet, the persistent game of hide and seek, the dance between recognition and doubt, became a weight too heavy to bear.

“I’m going to my room,” I declared, breaking the invisible threads that bound me to the unfolding narrative.

“Why? Is there anything wrong?” Derek inquired, his concern evident in the furrow of his brows.

“I’m okay, just a little sleepy,” I replied, the words a feeble attempt to cloak the mounting confusion within me. I ascended the stairs, each step a deliberate movement away from the enigma that held the resort in its grip.

As I walked away, I turned my gaze back to the scene below. Derek and Ethan engaged in conversation, the casual exchange of words belying the underlying tension that lingered in the air.

I looked at Ethan.

Thoughts raced through my mind-was he truly Paul, hidden behind a facade of indifference? Or, as Derek insisted, was it someone entirely different?

“If Paul hated Derek so much, why didn’t he react? Or else, Derek is right that it is not Paul,” I mused, the internal conflict echoing the uncharted terrain of my emotions.

Yet, the conviction that resonated in Ethan’s tone, the familiarity in his glance, refused to be dismissed. I couldn’t possibly be mistaken. His presence invoked the specter of Paul.

Entering my room, I collapsed onto the couch, the weight of uncertainty pressing against my temples. I placed my hand on my forehead and tapped my brow in a futile attempt to dispel the haunting questions that danced within.

“I’m sure it’s you. You’re deliberately causing me pain.”

Oh, God!

Unable to quell the turmoil within, I rose from the couch and began to pace the room.

I lay down on the bed, seeking solace in the embrace of its stillness.

Feeling the irritation intensify, I couldn’t shake the relentless thoughts that gripped me. My hands instinctively reached for my head, a futile attempt to quell the rising storm within. The overwhelming need for reprieve led me to my purse, where the promise of forgetting lay in the form of a small pill.

But just as I was about to succumb to the temporary solace it offered, the door opened, breaking the quietude of my internal struggle.

It was Derek.

Excitement surged within me as I asked in an eager tone, “Derek, what did you find? Is he?”

Derek’s response was not verbal. Instead, he placed a finger on his lower lip, signaling a desire to halt the conversation. My eyes followed his gesture, and there, behind him, I saw Paulina leaning against Ethan’s forearm. She was dozing off.

“Sorry, she dozed off,” Ethan explained, his voice a gentle interruption to the charged atmosphere in the room.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Derek expressed, his hand reaching for Paulina’s arm, a protective gesture against the intrusion of wakefulness.

“Mr. Derek, it is my pleasure. I’m hoping you’ll stay here for a few days,” Ethan proposed.

“Yes, we planned it as well, right babe?” Derek turned to me, seeking confirmation.

However, my response was a blank stare, a reflection of the unsettled thoughts that swirled within.

“All right, then, have a sweet dream,” Ethan remarked with a smile, a diplomatic acknowledgment of the delicate balance between the known and the unknown.

“Mr. Derek, and Mrs. Elena,” he said, shifting his focus to me. My gaze remained fixed on him, words caught in the recesses of my throat.

“Good night,” he concluded, his smile a mysterious curve that lingered in the air.

I found myself unable to respond, a sense of unease locking my words away.

“Elena,” Derek’s voice reached me, pulling me back into the present.

I looked at Derek and nodded, my voice a mere whisper, “Same to you, Mr. Ethan.”

Ethan’s kind smile lingered in the air as Derek closed the door, yet his gaze remained fixed on me, a silent echo of the questions that had yet to find answers. The room, bathed in the soft glow of dim light, became a canvas for the unfolding tensions.

With a firm yet gentle motion, Derek placed Paulina on the bed.

“What was it, Derek?” I questioned, my words carrying the weight of the unresolved mysteries that hung in the air.

“About what, Elena?” Derek replied casually.

“Ethan,” I said, the name a trigger for the tangled emotions that knotted within.

“Why did you bring him here?”

“Elena, he isn’t Paul,” Derek asserted with emphatic conviction.

“How can you be so certain, Derek?”

Derek forced me to take a seat on the couch and stated. “When I went to kiss you, why didn’t he react? Would he spare me, Elena, if he was Paul?”

I lowered my head. Derek is right in certain ways.

But why does my heart refuse to accept it? Why does my heart tell me he’s Paul? How could I possibly be wrong? Paul’s scent, his appearance, everything is posted in my thoughts.Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

“You still can’t accept it?”

He rose to his feet, retrieving an envelope from the bundle in his hands.

“Take this,” Derek urged, extending the envelope towards me. With a sense of trepidation, I accepted it, my fingers tracing the edges as I hesitated to unveil the contents within.

I opened the envelope carefully, the paper unfolding to reveal Ethan’s information. As my eyes scanned the details, a tremor ran through my hand. He isn’t Paul, the words on the paper declared, yet my heart clung to a stubborn connection that defied rational explanation.

Why, then, did I feel a magnetic pull towards him? His looks, his voice, a familiarity that defied the evidence before me. The internal conflict intensified, echoing in the recesses of my mind.

“God!” I whispered, rubbing my temples as if to dispel the disquiet within.

“Elena, don’t over think things. Tomorrow, we’ll meet with the doctor,” Derek reassured.

I took a deep breath.

“I… I need the drug,” I confessed, a desperate plea for the temporary relief it offered.

Derek, however, took a deep breath, his expression tinged with concern. “You should not have taken that drug every time.”