God, give me strength.
Am I really going to do this? Can I stay away from her for good?
I have to.
The door is still there. Every second that goes by makes my heart race even more. I have to go, I have to try it, and she can’t come. I can’t drag her into danger anymore. That’s my new mantra from now on— ‘keep her out of your shit.’ That will give her the chance to have a normal life again. That’s her God-given right, and she earned it, too.
I step out of the car and walk towards the entrance. My feet feel heavier than usual. As soon as I grab the doorknob, I feel a burning sensation all over my body. It feels as if it’s trying to tell me something. If I close my eyes, I believe I can hear my body say, ‘don’t fuck it up.’
Once I enter the house, I notice nothing changed. Peace and quiet reign around here. I walk into the room where Sarah sleeps. She lies all over the bed, the bed sheets barely cover her naked body; there are a few pillows on the carpet.
Fuck. I love this woman so much, it burns.
Once again, I’m leaving out what I really want and prioritizing what I should do— save Dante. I still don’t know how I’ll do that or how long it’ll take me, but I must do it or die trying.
I must remember the following:
1- I gotta rescue my brother.
2- I will never feel Sarah’s touch again.
3- My heart will stop beating because of it.
With these three thoughts in my mind, I take what I need and step out of the house, leaving my life, my family and my love behind…
Chapter Forty-One
A shiver.
Sarah
Sunlight sneaks in through the curtains into the room today, just like all other mornings in the past. It feels welcoming, inviting and comforting to know that I’m alive to see a new bright dawn. Back in the day, the morning sunlight felt like a smack in the face, but now… it’s different.
Bruno.
He made me see the world differently. He gave me perspective and the resolve to pull through. Yesterday is a blur, but I still remember us kissing, his soft touch and passion. The love that comes out of his pores and how much I need it. To me, loving him feels good and bad at the same time, but that’s what love is all about— a myriad of sensations that makes us crazy and happy. Right?
I struggle to see beyond the torturer, to uncover what hides behind that man. Or should I say, character? The Professor, that cold-blooded bastard who had me under his claws. Then, I had a moment of clarity; several of them, actually, when I was able to find Bruno, a man with a warm soul, capable of feeling remorse, joy, happiness and… love. But how much do I really know about him? What’s his favorite color? Which movie made an impact on his teen years? I don’t know everything, but… Does it really matter? What’s important and what’s not? First and foremost, who dictates that?
You’re probably thinking, ‘How can she love him, after all he did to her?’ or ‘She’s insane, broken in spirit, confused even.’ But let me ask you this. For how long can a person resist love? And why the fuck would anyone even do that?
The answer to the latter is you don’t. You don’t resist love. PERIOD.
A silly smile takes over my mouth. I giggle shyly. After all the suffering I endured, this feels refreshing.
I find myself surrounded by peace.
Under his protection.
Enjoying… Loving his company.
Loving his frowned forehead.
I love making him nervous.
If I feel like this about him, about us, why do I get this odd feeling that tells me I shouldn’t succumb to him?
“Oh. I thought you were done listening to anybody?”Life asks.
