Once, my paranoid love

Elena, still avoiding direct eye contact, unveiled the depths of her internal turmoil.

“Derek, we almost talked with a lot of physicians, but it didn’t work out well,” she confessed, her voice carrying the weight of resignation.

“Nobody will be able to help me with this panic attack, Derek. And I already told you to give up on me. I… I just could not feel anything. I feel everything empty around me. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. It’s just I can’t take this emptiness anymore. Everything feels so burdensome in my heart.”

Derek’s internal turmoil echoed in his thoughts, the awareness of Elena slowly perishing on the inside casting a somber shadow over his concern. He took a deep breath, mustering the strength to confront the complexities of their shared reality. Abruptly, he held her arms, his voice carrying the weight of both frustration and love.

“Look at me, Elena,” he implored, his eyes searching hers for a glimmer of connection. Elena met his gaze with an expressionless face, a facade that barely concealed the depths of her internal struggles.

“I told you, you are my wife, and I will not do what you want,” Derek asserted, his words a declaration of the unwavering commitment he held for the woman before him. Elena, seemingly unfazed, took a deep breath but remained silent, her emotions guarded.

“Elena, she needs you,” Derek remarked with a sigh, the plea for connection hanging in the air. Sensing the gravity of the moment, he halted in front of her and knelt down, his voice a tender murmur as he held her hand.

“You’ve got to conquer your fear, sweetie. You must take a stand for us. I’ll take you to the best doctor available. But, all you have to do is cooperate with them,” he urged, his words a lifeline extended to a woman drowning in the depths of her own struggles.

Elena, her head lowered, felt the gentle caress of Derek’s hand on her face as he asked, “Are you listening to me?” She nodded, the weight of her thoughts evident in her expression.

“Derek, she is happy with you. But I can’t seem to get it out of my head. I’m unable to,” Elena confessed, her vulnerability laid bare. In response, Derek embraced her, his hands soothingly caressing her back. “Elena,” he whispered, a reassurance woven into the simplicity of his touch.

“Okay, I’m not going to push you anymore. And I’ll take a long time off from work,” Derek declared. Elena, puzzled, asked, “Why?” In a tender gesture, he picked her up and carried her to the balcony.

“Because we’re going to Switzerland,” he announced, settling her on his lap. Elena, caught in the whirlwind of emotions, remained silent. The mention of Switzerland stirred memories-promises made and dreams shared.

‘Switzerland? Paul promised to live together in Switzerland. Everything about me has been lost to myself,’ Elena thought, the echoes of a past vision colliding with the harsh reality of her present struggles.

“I know you love Switzerland, but we’ll be there for your treatment. I know a psychiatrist there who can help you,” Derek explained, his voice a steady anchor in the tempest of Elena’s mind. She continued to stay silent, her internal turmoil reflected in the unmoving stillness of her form.

In an attempt to break through the heavy silence, Derek gently ruffled her hair with his fingertips.

Derek’s POV.

As time passed, I noticed Elena dozing off on my lap. The quiet of the night enveloped us, and in that serene moment, my thoughts wandered into the labyrinth of emotions that defined our tangled story.

I’m sure you’re dying on the inside, babe. He was your first love, and you felt the magic of love from him when I was nothing. You may love me, but you take as your duty and you will never love me as much as you love Paul.

I also don’t want you to love me the same way you love Paul. These silent confessions echoed in the stillness of the night, each unspoken word a poignant reminder of the complexities that bound us.

You love him but have never confessed your feelings to him. You’ve always tried to save him, to give him a better life. Now you can’t even touch your most precious thing, your daughter. Rather than punishing him, you chose to punish yourself.

Why did you choose your anger rather than your heart? If you followed your heart, you wouldn’t have to endure as much.

If you choose your heart, it’s likely that you wouldn’t be with me anymore. The weight of these thoughts settled on my shoulders, a burden born out of love and the painful awareness that some wounds couldn’t be healed.

I tightened my grip on her, as if trying to anchor her in the reality we had built together. I gazed up at the sky, as if seeking solace in the vastness of the universe that held secrets beyond our comprehension.

I made a mistake, too, Elena, and I’m partly responsible for your situation. I didn’t want you to be with him, yet I am trying to keep you with me.

**

That night, three years ago, at the spot where Paul fell down from the cliff, the haunting echoes of a tragedy unfolded.

“Why did you shoot him?” Elena’s voice, torn by grief, pierced through the silence, each word a desperate plea for answers.

“Why?” she screamed as sobs wracked her body.

“Tell me why,” she demanded as she wept in my arms, seeking solace amidst the unfathomable pain. I held her close, a feeble attempt to shield her from the harsh reality that had shattered our world.

“Ma’am, we had no choice,” Obin, one of the enigmatic figures surrounding us, interjected abruptly. “So, before Sir could instruct us, we shot him.”

“What were you guys thinking?” Elena’s anguished cry filled the air, her eyes streaming with tears, mirroring the torrent of emotions raging within her.

“Derek, they killed my Paul,” she uttered, her words laden with accusation and heartache.Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Stop crying, Elena,” I implored, yanking her into my chest. My own voice trembled with the weight of a truth I had kept hidden.