For You and maybe Me

Prologue

~Take my hand and please, never let me go again~ 

Her eyes were the most beautiful I have ever seen. Her face was the most beautiful face I have ever seen. Her lips were the most beautiful lips I have ever seen. She was the most beautiful person I have ever seen.

I cannot believe that she is my girl. Mine. My Lilibeth. I would love to tell her. I would love to show her, but I cannot.
It was one of those rare days when she called her mother. She hated to call her mother; I knew this. But she was also one of the most respectful people in this universe, she wanted to be respectful to her parents, after their not perfect past.
I could hear how Lilibeth started to argue with her and screamed into her phone in Hungarian. She talked to her parents in German, but if she is mad, she uses to talk in Hungarian. I could also hear her mother talking, but I still did not understand a word.
Lilibeth was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, the door was half open and I was doing some autographs for the fans. Of course, I could not concentrate anymore. I hated when she was screaming or when she was too emotional.
She finally came out of the bathroom, slammed the door behind her and, ran into the kitchen. "Are you okay, Darling?", I asked worriedly when I saw her face. It was red and her eyes were red as well. Did she cry?
"Do I look like this?", she asked goaty. I stand up from the Coach and went to her, she turned around that I could not see her face. "Darling, should we talk?"
"I do not want to talk", Lilibeth said this time angrier.
I closed my eyes. I have never seen her mad like this before. She was always funny, jokey, lovely, and sweet. Now she was not herself. "Come on, talk to me I want to help you", I said strict and put my hand around her shoulder while she still turned her back to me. Immediately she let go of me and away from me again, still with her back to me. Now I was really worried about her. I knew that her past with her parents was not good but this conversation between her and her mother seemed for me worse. "You cannot help me, no one can help me now.", she said, and I thought I heard her sobbing. She wanted to walk away again but this time I stopped her, by taking her wrist and turning her around. I tried to hold her, but she resisted. "Hey, hey, hey. It is all good. I am here. I want to help you," I tried to reassure her and took her face in my hands. Only now could I see her face properly. Her whole face was red, her eyes too, her neck was completely red, as if she had scratched herself. She rarely wore make-up, so I knew it could not have come from that. Something was wrong with her and it was not just now. When we arrived in Hungary on Wednesday, she was already not in the best of moods, but she was still laughing. On Thursday it got worse and on Friday she did not talk to anyone, only the most necessary things to everyone. She hardly spoke to me either, but I was too busy with the races to talk to her and she was working all day and running back and forth on the track to do her job. We only saw each other in the morning when we got up and, in the evening when we were both tired and went to bed. I looked at her white blouse and noticed a red stain on her upper right arm, soaked through the blouse. Lilibeth was still trying to hold herself while I took a closer look. "Did you hurt yourself?"
She tore herself away from me and looked at me for a moment before turning back around and walking into the bathroom. I went after her and tried to get in too, but she closed the door behind her. "Lilibeth, open up. Please," I begged her desperately. It was clear to me now that she was no longer well. Something was very wrong with her. I hated myself for not telling her sooner. It is my job to look after her and protect her. From the other side of the door, I could hear her starting to cry. Then she screamed as if she was in pain.
"Lilibeth!", I shouted and banged on the door. "Open the door. Now! I know you are not well, but you must get help now. Don't be stubborn and open the door".
She continued to cry but did not answer. I ran my hands through my hair in despair and thought about what I should do. Should I just break down the door? I could not just let her cry behind the door. And on her blouse... I immediately knew what it was. Blood.
Her crying became more and more silent and I just tried again. "Lilibeth, please," I murmured and knocked on the door again. "Please," I begged this time. "I love you, ok? I'm worried about you."
The lock clicked, and the door opened slowly. She stood trembling in the doorway and I stepped inside. Her face was even redder, her eyes were filled with tears and her hands were shaking like crazy, as was her whole body. I had never seen her like this, so desperate and afraid. I took a step closer and wanted to press her into my arms, but she kept moving back. "No..." she murmured, "I can't go on."
"Darling..."
"I can't take it anymore," she repeated, burying her face in her hands. Her palms were red this time too. Blood. It was blood again. My worries grew even more. There was blood on the other side of her blouse again this time.
"What have you done, Lilibeth?", I asked cautiously and tried to get closer to her again. "What's hap-"
"My uncle died," she interrupted me, tears streaming down her cheeks. At that moment, all I wanted to do was hold her in my arms again. I was aware of how much her uncle meant to her, as he was like her father to her. "I'm sorry, Lilibeth."
"I... I...."
"Hey, don't worry about it..."
"I haven't told you everything," she interrupted me for the second time.
Confused, I looked at her. "What do you mean?"
"About myself."
Now I was even more confused. Of course, I knew her story, but not the whole thing. Slowly I reached out to her and she looked me in the eye. "You can tell me," I assured her. She immediately shook her head. "Then you wouldn't love me anymore."
"Yes, I would."
"No," she contradicted me.
"Who says so? Does it have something to do with your uncles?", I asked.
She nodded. "Partly."
"Lilibeth, I will always love you, no matter what has happened or will happen," I promised her. Her gaze slid to my outstretched hand. Trembling, she took it and I pulled her to me. She immediately pressed herself against my chest and began to cry again. I just hugged her to me and let her cry. I stroked her hair, pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and swore to me that I would never let go of her again, even though I did not know her whole past.