Once, my paranoid love

Ethan, perhaps sensing the storm within, abruptly caressed my cheek and wiped away the evidence of my silent tears. The unexpected tenderness took me aback, and I glanced at him with surprise. Why are you doing this?

“You must have loved him so much?” Ethan asked sternly.

I nodded in affirmation, my eyes closing involuntarily as the memories of a love lost flooded my consciousness.

“But I was unable to express my feelings to him. I was really cruel to him. He was madly in love with me,” I confessed, the weight of guilt and remorse tainting my words.

My eyes welled up with tears once more as the admission escaped my lips.

Ethan, understanding the depth of my pain, gently touched my cheek with his thumb.

“Don’t worry, Mrs.. I think he’s keeping an eye on you everywhere you go,” Ethan reassured, his words carrying a subtle comfort as he withdrew his hand from my cheek.

“Mrs., go to your room. It’s getting really cold here,” he suggested, his voice a tender directive.

Ethan’s warm smile held an otherworldly quality, as though an angel had descended, offering solace in the midst of the emotional tempest.

My eyes remained locked on him, a reluctance to leave his presence tugging at my weary heart. I lowered my head, finding refuge on his chest, the warmth of his presence a balm to the turmoil within.

“I don’t know why I don’t want to leave him,” I admitted silently.

“You are not Paul? Why are you not my Paul? You are not…” I murmured, the words dissolving into the night.

My eyes slowly shut, surrendering to the weight of weariness and emotional tumult. But before the darkness claimed me, I felt warmth enveloping me, a sensation akin to being cradled in the arms of an ethereal embrace.

Ethan cradled Elena within the circle of his arms, her form sinking into the haven of sleep. As he held her close, his gaze ascended to the heavens, a canvas adorned with countless stars while the moon beamed down in serene radiance.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“How lovely the scenery is!” he exclaimed, a smile gracing his features as he marveled at the celestial display.

“You remind me of the moon. But what’s the matter with you?” Ethan mused, addressing the celestial orb as though it held secrets only he could decipher.

With Elena nestled in his arms, he rose and found a secluded bench, gently laying her head upon his lap. He observed her serene face, the gentle caress of her hair, a silent vigil over her peaceful slumber.

“I’m not going to let you lose your mind, darling. You were and will remain my love. In your heart, I’m still there for you.”

I arched my brows as the gentle caress of sunrays touched my face. Slowly, I opened my eyes to a vast expanse of ocean and sky, their hues blending in the morning canvas. The beauty around me felt surreal, a stark contrast to the disorientation within.

As I sat up, the shawl clutched in my hands, a wave of confusion washed over me. Did I sleep here last night? Images of a moonlit encounter with Ethan flickered in my mind, and I couldn’t shake off the lingering sense of unreality.

I got up on my feet, a lingering dizziness a testament to the drug’s influence. The events of the previous night blurred the lines between reality and illusion. Last night-was it hallucination?

Slowly, I walked toward the resort, a silent contemplation accompanying each step. The echoes of our conversation lingered in my mind, a puzzle I couldn’t decipher.

**

On the other side of this narrative, Derek moved aside, extending his hand to grasp Elena, but she was nowhere to be found.

When I opened my eyes, all I saw was Paulina.

Then where is Elena?

I emerged from the warmth of the bed, a sense of unease lingering in my mind. The bathroom, my first destination, offered no trace of her presence. A quick check revealed a locked door, dispelling the notion that she might have sought solace within.

Didn’t she? I rubbed my forehead, the uncertainty tightening its grip. Panic flickered momentarily as I dashed to the porch, hoping to find her there, perhaps lost in contemplation.

But the porch, too, was devoid of her figure.

The sense of foreboding escalated, and I walked out of the chamber, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of her. When the room offered no answers, I ventured to go down, each step heavier than the last.

And then, there she was.

Elena, appearing like a mirage in the morning light, was coming toward me. Relief washed over me, and I called out her name, my steps quickening.

“Elena!”

As she looked up at me, a myriad of emotions flickering in her eyes, I couldn’t help myself. I rushed forward and enveloped her in a tight embrace, a silent acknowledgment of the fear that had gripped my heart.

For a second, I couldn’t find words. The fear of her absence, the uncertainty of the night, and the haunting echoes of our shared confessions converged in that embrace.

“I don’t know,” I confessed softly, my words muffled against her hair. “For a second, I thought you left me.”

“What’s the matter, Elena? What brings you here?” I asked, my concern evident as I observed the weariness etched on her face.

“Nothing,” Elena replied, her voice carrying the weight of exhaustion. It was clear she was too tired, and a silent plea for respite lingered in her eyes.

“What’s that look on your face, babe? You can’t fool my eyes,” I added, my gaze probing for the unspoken burdens that seemed to weigh her down.

“Did you go for a morning walk?”

Elena looked at me and nodded.

“You have a really pale appearance,” I remarked gently as I guided her toward the room. Her silence spoke volumes, and the weight of unsaid words hung heavy in the air.

“Elena, why don’t you listen to me?”

I expressed my concern, my worry surfacing in the lines of my brow.

Sensing her need for rest, I took her up in my arms and laid her gently on the bed.

“Take a nap, Elena,” I urged, my voice softened with affection as I kissed her forehead. With a lingering gaze, I left her side and headed to the bathroom.

In the solace of the bathroom, my thoughts became a tumultuous whirlwind.

My heart knows what is happening inside me. Why I am so restless, I take this step knowing the consequence, I need to control myself.

I rubbed my eyes, the lingering weariness reminding me of the restless night. As I attempted to stand, a wave of dizziness washed over me, a testament to my weakened state. Carefully navigating through the room, I headed to the restroom, to freshen up.

The unexpected knock on the door startled me.

“Yes,” I replied.

“May I come in, ma’am,” a gentle voice, belonging to a girl, requested.

“Yes,” I said, granting permission. The girl entered with a tray, a warm smile adorning her face.

“It’s for you, ma’am. Have it, please!” she said, placing the dish on the table before gracefully retreating.

I surveyed the assortment of food, a silent acknowledgment of the thoughtful gesture. Was all of this orchestrated by Derek?

“Excuse me,” I interjected, “I didn’t ask for these.”

“You didn’t, ma’am, but sir told me to serve you,” she explained with a nervous smile.

“Sir?” I questioned, seeking clarification.

“Yes,” she affirmed.

“My husband?” I pressed, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty clouding my expression.

She nervously nodded, her attempt to make a hasty exit halted by my words.

“Listen,” I began, sensing a question brewing within me, “have you ever seen your manager’s wife and daughter?”

Her gaze fixed on me, curiosity sparking in her eyes.

“Ma’am, I heard he’s married, but I’ve never seen his wife or daughter,” she answered, her response raising more questions than answers.

As she left the room, a bowl of soup in my hands, I couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity that clung to the flavors. It mirrored the taste of the soup prepared by Paul’s cook.

As I finished the last spoonful of soup, a wave of unease washed over me.

Ahh!

“Elena, are you crazy? Now, don’t state that the chief is Paul,” I scolded myself in a hushed whisper. With a determined nod, I dismissed the lingering doubts and resumed eating.

Leaving the room, I ventured outside, hoping to find Derek and Paulina. The scenic surroundings offered a momentary distraction, but Derek’s unexpected voice brought me back to the present.

“Where have you been?”

“Where is Paulina?”

I inquired, turning to face him.

“She was with me, but Ethan took her with him,” Derek informed.

Ethan again? My surprise was palpable. As we followed the sound of a little girl’s giggles, we discovered Ethan and Paulina engrossed in a playful moment. The sight took me aback, a moment frozen in time where they seemed undeniably like father and daughter.

“Babe,” Derek said, shaking me from my reverie.

“The soup you ordered tasted good,” I commented, attempting to shift the focus.

“Soup?” Derek queried, confusion etched on his face.

“Yeah, it was extremely good,” I affirmed.