46

[REBECCA]
The night before was a hazy blur, leaving me feeling ashamed that Artemy and the others had discovered me in such a vulnerable state. It pained me that they witnessed my moment of weakness.
Artemy persisted in questioning me, coaxing me to reveal the truth. His words reached me like distant echoes, as if submerged underwater, while my body seemed to float weightlessly.
He pleaded with me. He used every charm and persuasion he could muster. His desperation was palpable. He insisted that I was worth more than I believed, yet I couldn’t bring myself to respond.
He was mistaken. I believed I was worthless. I saw myself as a tainted, used, and empty vessel-a mere object of pleasure. His words hurt because they were built on falsehoods.
I wanted to scream, consumed by hatred for him. I yearned for him to stop lying, to cease the charade. My heart throbbed with unbearable pain. I didn’t bring happiness; I embodied darkness. Nobody cared for me; I was alone in this world.
Artemy leaned in closer, and I felt the warmth emanating from his hand beside mine, resting on the bed. Our hands were so close, yet they never touched.
“May I touch you?” he asked.
I froze. No, he couldn’t touch me. At that moment, I couldn’t bear the touch of any man or anyone else for that matter. It felt as though I would crumble and dissipate into thin air.
“Please leave. Please go. Leave me,” I silently pleaded.
I heard him exhale sharply, then saw him rise from his chair, pushing it away. He was leaving.
“Just know that you are loved… you matter. To Lynda. To Nona,” Artemy murmured softly.
His words cut like a sharp knife into my heart.
Closing my eyes, I responded with silence. I had nothing to say. I couldn’t find the words.
His words hurt. I wished they didn’t, but his lies shattered my already fractured heart. I had trusted him, yet he fed me falsehoods.
As he walked away, his footsteps gradually faded until I could no longer hear them. When the door finally closed, I let out a sigh and kept my eyes shut.
I ran my fingers over the uneven bandages on my skin, feeling a tingling sensation in my nose as tears began to well up behind my closed eyelids. I never thought I would take such a drastic step. I couldn’t even remember it happening. I was so lost, so detached from reality that I didn’t realize what I was doing.
But I vividly recall the silence enveloping me as I slipped into unconsciousness. It felt strangely comforting. Empowering. For once, it seemed like I had control over my emotions. Deep down, though, I knew it was wrong.
As a single tear trickled down my cheek, I pulled the covers up to my chin, turning onto my left side to face the window while keeping my eyes closed. Brushing away the tear’s path, I let out a sigh and allowed fatigue to wash over my weary body.
A few minutes later, I succumbed to sleep once again. And Artemy’s voice never left my thoughts.
“You are worth more than you think.”
***
I awoke abruptly, my eyes snapping open as if startled from a deep slumber. The heaviness of sleep quickly dissipated as I heard the creak of my bedroom door. A surge of tension coursed through my body, causing me to stiffen in anticipation.
Within seconds, the weight on my bed shifted, and a familiar scent of roses wafted through the air, tickling my senses. It was Lynda. Looking up, I found her gazing down at me, her expression filled with sadness. Her eyes were swollen and red, and weariness etched on her face.
“Hey,” she whispered softly.
I matched her tone, mustering a gentle response. “Hey.”
Silence hung in the air as she stared at me intently. Then, her watery eyes brimmed with unshed tears, and my own widened in response.
“Don’t ever do that again,” she pleaded, hastily wiping away the tears cascading down her cheeks. My heart constricted painfully at the sight of her anguish.
“Lynda…” I choked out, overwhelmed by guilt.
“You… don’t… know… how difficult it was… seeing you like that, finding you in such a state,” she sobbed, her voice trembling. I closed my eyes, the weight of remorse engulfing my entire being.
“You can’t ever do that again, Becca. You can’t.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, my voice filled with remorse.
Lynda brushed aside her disheveled hair and wiped away her fallen tears, her actions a mix of frustration and tenderness.
“Becca, we can help you. Just let us in. Talk to me, please. I can’t bear to see you like this. You don’t deserve this. Let us be there for you,” she whispered, her hand slowly reaching out to rest upon my head. She absentmindedly patted my hair, her eyes still locked with mine. “I’m sorry.”
Why was she apologizing? I blinked up at her, my confusion evident. She averted her gaze sadly, her suspicions lingering in her eyes.
“I should have known. I should have noticed, but instead, I allowed myself to believe that you were happy. I should have been there for you.”
“You’re wrong.” As I finally managed to sit upright, I took hold of Lynda’s hand in mine. “I was happy,” I confessed. “Happier than I’ve ever been. And you, Nona, Artemy… you gave me that.”
She looked at me, perplexed, searching for any signs of deception. But there were none. Those words were the truest I had ever spoken.
Summoning every ounce of determination within me, I took a deep breath and mustered the strength to continue. “I had a nightmare last night.”
Perhaps I should confide in her, I thought to myself. Not the entire truth, but fragments of it. Maybe then she would grasp the essence of my anguish.
In a hushed voice, barely audible, I whispered, “I can’t recall much, but it was sheer horror. It was terrible. The pain was overwhelming,” I confessed. “Even upon waking, it clung to me relentlessly. I yearned for it to vanish, for silence to engulf me.”
Her eyes widened, and her mouth formed an expression of astonishment. With a gentle tone, she inquired, “Do you frequently experience these nightmares?” Her face softened as she regarded me with eyes filled with sorrow.
Although I was looking at her, my gaze seemed to pass right through her as the haunting images from my nightmares flickered before my eyes. “Yes, most of the time,” I murmured, my voice tinged with a hint of desolation. That was exactly how I felt-lost. I no longer knew my place in the world. I was adrift, uncertain of my emotions and desires. “I hadn’t had them for some time, but they returned last night,” I confessed. The only reason I had been spared the nightmares was because of Artemy, because of his jacket. But my tranquility had been cruelly snatched away from me.
Curiosity laced Lynda’s cautious tone as she gently held my hand, her fingers soothingly rubbing against mine. “Is there a reason why they go away and then return?” she inquired.
I shrugged, averting my gaze, deliberately avoiding eye contact with her. This was my secret-one I couldn’t divulge. Even in my own mind, it sounded pitiful. I could only imagine how feeble it would sound to Lynda.
“Okay,” she acknowledged. I felt grateful that she didn’t press further. “Thank you for sharing,” she said, her hand squeezing mine in a comforting manner.
I nodded silently.
“Becca, you can always talk to me. I’m here for you. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be waiting. I won’t push you. It’s your choice,” Lynda assured me. “But remember, I’m here for you. And not just me-Mom and Artemy, too. Everyone else as well.” Leaning forward, she planted a tender kiss on my forehead. “There’s always a glimmer of light at the end of the darkest tunnel,” she whispered, withdrawing slightly. Her words took my breath away, and tears welled up in my eyes once again.
“Lynda,” I sniffled.
“Hush, I’m here,” she murmured, enveloping me in her embrace. I buried my head in her shoulder and let the tears flow. I wept for the years of pain that had burdened me. I cried for the arduous life I had endured. I wept for my own sense of hopelessness.
Tears streamed down my face, overwhelmed by the unexpected kindness shown to me. These people, who were supposed to be my enemies, had displayed more compassion than I had ever witnessed in my entire existence.
In the midst of my emotional turmoil, Lynda gently placed her hand on my back, offering solace. “Thank you,” I managed to utter through my choked sobs.
“Don’t worry. Everything will be alright. You’ll be okay,” she whispered, her voice tender and filled with empathy.
Time seemed to blur as my tears gradually dried. Exhaustion enveloped me, but it was a different kind of weariness. My heart no longer ached as intensely, and my breathing became more steady, signaling a newfound calmness.
Separating myself from Lynda’s comforting touch, I wiped away the remnants of my tears, greeted by a small, encouraging smile from her. Sensing my hunger, she skillfully changed the subject. I appreciated her understanding and nodded, my hand instinctively resting on my growling stomach.
“Just a little,” I replied.
“Alright, stay put. I’ll bring you some breakfast,” she assured me, heading towards the door.
“Wait,” I called out as she neared the exit. Lynda halted and turned to face me once more.
Nervously biting my lip, I brushed a few strands of hair away from my face. Summoning the courage, I finally voiced the question that had been haunting me. “Where is Nona?”
Lynda’s smile faded, her expression growing serious. “Mom is downstairs. When I go down, I’ll let her know you’re awake. She’ll come up in an instant, faster than you can blink.”
My heart sank as I anticipated disappointment and anger from Nona. “Is she angry?” I asked, fearing her wrath.
Lynda vehemently shook her head, wide-eyed at my question. “No,” she gasped. “Never. Becca, Mom was so worried. She’ll be relieved that you’re awake. She could never be mad at you.”
Relief washed over me, my heart finding a steady rhythm once again. Lynda offered me another smile, accompanied by a mischievous wink. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” I responded, my voice filled with gratitude and a newfound sense of hope.