Chapter 24 #3
I always thought that if I could just be good enough, they would love me. When I was compliant, I was safe from their anger and cruel words. When I couldn’t control my emotions, it ended in conflict and chaos.
That night, I went into the dark closet and cried until I couldn’t anymore. And then something strange happened. A blanket of numbness settled over me. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t feel anything at all. I shut down for the first time, and it got me through those terrifying hours.
It wasn’t until Mom came into my bedroom the next morning that she realized they’d forgotten me there.
I’d peed my pants, but when she yelled at me for it, I discovered that the numbness wasn’t just a feeling. It was a place I could go in my mind—a refuge where pain and sadness didn’t exist.
From that day on, I learned to panic on the inside, internalizing my emotions so nobody would know.
I studied the language of the strange world I was born into, mastering the scripts, the body language, and the tones.
I became a character on a stage, performing for the comfort of everyone around me. My family never locked me in the closet again. But it came at a cost—my voice and my needs. And, still, I didn’t have their approval.
“Hey.” Eros brings me back, and gradually, I return to my body, the warmth of his hands grounding me.
As the fog in my head clears, another emotion surges through me. Something I rarely show, even though I’ve felt it my entire life.
Anger.
“I remember,” I say quietly.
“Okay.” His fingers graze my cheek, a warm and steady presence. “Now tell me what you wish you had said.”
My mind doesn’t offer up an elaborate speech, but rather a simple response.
“No,” I whisper. “I would have said no.”
“Good. Say it louder.”
A cold flush settles over my skin, and my stomach churns as I battle out the consequences with my lizard brain.
Every instinct inside me screams to retreat to what’s familiar, because that’s what’s kept me safe. But that safety hasn’t protected me—it’s imprisoned me.
Unlearning isn’t comfortable, and taking that first step is terrifying, but I want to do it. So I steel myself and say it again.
“No.”
“Louder.”
“No.”
He makes me repeat it over and over until I finally unleash the anger inside me, pouring it into that single word.
When I let it out, a strange calm washes over me, and I realize just how good that felt. It’s like my lungs have fully expanded, and I’m taking my first real breath in years.
Eros tips my chin up, stroking my face with such tenderness, it feels like nothing less than reverence.
“Your voice might shake at first,” he murmurs. “But I promise you, baby, you’ll learn how to roar.”
I nod through my tears, and he sits with me quietly, rubbing my back and letting me just be in the moment. I could almost fall asleep right here, but I suspect our conversation isn’t over, and he confirms it.
“Will you tell me what that other asshole said to you on the phone?”
A thread of darkness bleeds through his tone, and it occurs to me he must be monitoring my phone somehow. He seems to sense what I’m thinking, and he doesn’t deny it.
“I saw that he called you.”
“You saw, or you heard?” I question, wondering what the extent of his surveillance actually is.
“I didn’t hear the conversation.” He sounds irritated by that, like he wishes he had.
“At some point, we need to talk about your stalking tendencies. But can we save that and the Riccardo conversation for later? I don’t want to think about him right now.”
A long stretch of silence follows, and I can tell it bothers him not knowing what Riccardo said to me. But he doesn’t push it right now.
“Let’s talk about school, then. Are you ready to go back?”
“Why do you care?” I ask, not meaning for it to sound so blunt, but genuinely curious.
“Because you love school.” He pulls me a little closer. “And I want you to be happy.”
Those words trigger an unexpected rush of emotion, for the simple fact that no other man has ever said that to me.
“Dammit.” I press at the edges of my eyes, laughing at the absurdity of it. “Here comes the waterworks again. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” he says. “But we’ll save that for the next therapy session.”
I offer him a smile, but it fades quickly.
“The thing is, I do love school, but it’s been really uncomfortable lately. I think the members of Imperium have told everyone I was with Nate the night he disappeared, and now they keep whispering and staring at me. They’ve made it pretty clear I’m not wanted there.”
His body goes unnaturally still beneath me, and his grip on me tightens with quiet possession.
“I wish you’d told me.”
“I just wanted to forget it ever happened, but it doesn’t look like that’s possible.”
“I don’t want you to worry about it,” he answers softly. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”
I don’t know how, but I nod, because I’m too exhausted to think about it right now. Instead, I lean into his hold and let out a happy little sigh.
“I imagine this is how Beppe feels when he crawls inside my sweater.”
“It’s like having your very own emotional support sociopath.”
“If the diagnosis fits,” I muse. “Does that mean you’re not going to ghost me again?”
“No,” he promises. “I won’t do that again.”
I believe him, but I can also tell something is off with him. He keeps trying to warn me away, and there has to be a reason for it. But like everything else, it feels too big to unpack at the moment.
“Secret for a secret?” I ask.
“Okay. You first.”
“I think about you…a lot.”
A long stretch of silence passes as he brushes my hair back, and when he finally speaks, his voice is rougher than it was a moment ago.
“I think about you, too, Gabi. All the time.”