Once, my paranoid love

Perhaps Elena did something



As I stood there, the sound of Nikita’s laughter continued to fill the airwaves, each peal of mirth a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions raging within me. The juxtaposition of her carefree amusement against the backdrop of my own turmoil only served to amplify the pain that coursed through my veins.

The tears that had been gathering in my eyes finally broke free, tracing a path down my cheeks as I struggled to make sense of the magnitude of Paul’s betrayal. It felt as though a storm had erupted within me, tearing through the sanctuary of trust and leaving nothing but chaos in its wake.

With a voice that trembled from both hurt and anger, I managed to pose a question, despite my heart’s desperate refusal to accept the truth. “Did he spend the whole noon with you?” The words tumbled out, my longing for an alternative reality evident in every syllable.

“Of course, we spent the whole noon with him. In fact, he called me to accompany him,” Nikita’s voice carried a mischievous tone, laced with a chuckle that hinted at her intoxicated state. The words struck me like a sharp dagger, each syllable driving the truth deeper into my wounded heart. The pain of betrayal, so fresh and raw, intensified as I realized the extent of Paul’s deception.

Her words painted a vivid picture in my mind-a picture of Paul spending his time with her while I believed his phony care and dedicated myself to being there for him. Anger swelled within me, mingling with the hurt to create a torrent of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me.

As Nikita’s voice continued, with a naughty vibe creeping into her words, I felt a surge of frustration. It was as if she reveled in the revelation, finding joy in shattering the illusion I had held onto for so long. I pressed my lips together, the bitterness of the moment settling heavily on my tongue.

Without a word, I hung up the phone abruptly, unable to bear the sound of her laughter any longer. The silence that followed was almost deafening, amplifying the whirlwind of emotions that raged within me.

My thoughts churned, and my heart was heavy with a mix of sorrow, anger, and a deep sense of betrayal. It was as if the walls that had once shielded my heart from pain had crumbled, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. The question that echoed in my mind was one of self-doubt-“For whom had I been doing it? For whom had I been trying to stay in this hell?”Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

A bitter taste lingered as I bit my lips, the pain of realization cutting through the fog of denial. Paul, the person I had held in such high regard, had shattered my trust and manipulated my feelings.

“Paul, I hate you. I really hate you. I’m nothing more than a puppet for him. Your mom ruined my mom’s life, and now you are doing the same.” The anger that surged within me was a potent mix of hurt and resentment, fueled by the stark realization that I had been used and discarded.

As I ascended the stairs, my footsteps carried the weight of my emotions. Anger had clouded my thoughts, blinding me to reason and leaving me with an overwhelming need to confront the source of my pain.

In my fury, I reached the top of the stairs, my heart pounding loudly in my chest. The door to my dad’s bedroom stood before me, a barrier between me and the answers I sought. Without hesitation, I knocked forcefully, my frustration evident in the sound of my pounding fist.

‘I will do whatever I want to do to save my mom’s last memory.’

**

Just an hour ago, Nikita had stumbled upon him while on her way to go shopping. She had found Paul in a state of distress. With a mixture of concern and determination, Nikita convinced Paul to accompany her to the bar, hoping that the change of environment might help ease his agitation.

He was drinking non-stop, and his anger was palpable. He was drowning his frustrations in alcohol, his emotions spilling out in slurred sentences. Nikita listened carefully, piecing together the fragments of his conversation. It became clear that Elena was the source of his turmoil and the subject of his blabbering.

“Elena, I love you,” Paul murmured.

When Nikita heard Paul’s voice once again, his words centering around Elena, an uncontrollable surge of anger gripped her. Her fingers tightened around the mobile phone in her hand, her knuckles turning white as her emotions roiled within her. A storm of questions stormed her mind, each one a dagger of jealousy and frustration. “Why, Paul? Why do you care about her? What did you find in her? Am I not worthy of your attention?”

As her thoughts spiraled into a maelstrom of emotions, Nikita’s grip on the mobile phone became almost painful. But in the midst of her turmoil, a sudden smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. A calculated plan formed in her mind-a way to exploit the situation for her own advantage. She realized that the moment had come-a moment to sow the seeds of misunderstanding between Paul and Elena and capitalize on their apparent discord.

“Perhaps Elena did something,” Nikita thought, her mind weaving a narrative that fit her scheme. “That’s why Paul is so angry. But I can push him further and make him even angrier. And then, when he’s at breaking point, he’ll lash out at her.”

With her plan set in motion, Nikita knew she needed to give Paul some space. She moved away from him, retreating to a corner of the bar where she could make her move without his immediate presence.

Her heart raced as she dialed the number for Elena’s number, but it was switched off. Then she tried to reach Paul’s home. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins and her resolve solidifying. The call connected, and she heard a girl’s voice.

“Hello!”


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