Beautiful Lies

Chapter Twenty-one

Lorena

I have the feeling of suffocating. It feels like there are hands around my neck, slowly squeezing my throat shut. The air becomes tighter. It feels like a stone has fallen on my chest.

"She's having a panic attack," I hear a voice say in the distance, but I can't place it. I try to remember my therapist's words, but nothing seems to work.

"Lorena, concentrate. Listen to me," I feel hands on my cheek and slowly Dante's blurred face appears. "I can't... I can't do this," I stammer. "Mi amore, you can do it. I need you to focus on my voice now. Take a deep breath in and out."

I try to follow Dante's instructions and breathe in and out slowly. I feel my body calming down again. "Come on, we have to get off the road. We cannot stay in one place for too long. It's too dangerous." He takes me by the hand and leads me to the car. We get into the black limo and the driver drives off.

I am very confused by his reaction. Why doesn't he yell at me? That's not like him at all. He doesn't say a single word and the panic rises in me again. The first thing that comes to my mind is: Is he going to leave me? Is he going to leave me alone?

Why does this even matter to me?

Arriving at the hotel, Dante gets out and walks straight to the elevator. I follow him silently. We ride up to the suite in silence.

The door opens. He turns to me and if looks could kill, I would be dead now.

"Speak! Right now!" I walk into the living room and sit down on the sofa.

"First tell me what you did with Vinz."I say with my arms crossed. Just saying his name out loud makes me want to vomit.

"Are you completely bullshitting me? You'd rather know what I did with one of your rapists than tell me why you fucking kept your child from me!" he shouts.

It feels like he slapped me in the face. This would certainly not be as painful as his words. "You don't understand," I whisper.

Does he think that if it was that easy, I would have hidden Henry? Besides, why does he care? It's not like we're in a real relationship.

"Then explain it to me," he roars. "I married a stranger. I knew you were hiding something from me when you told me you had to leave once a month. But a child. What kind of a bad mother are you? Who hides his own flesh and blood."

"Please can't we make another arrangement. Please don't take my son away from me," I cry.

"You know it's for the best. How are you going to afford a child? You are only 18 years old. Besides, we will drop the charges. Who would trust a child with a criminal record. You see what I'm getting at." Crying, I admit defeat.

How can he say such a cruel thing? He doesn't know what torture I had to go through to be standing here.

"Fuck you!" I say and turn around.

"Yeah, that's right run away. That's what you do best anyway. Like at our wedding, you just ran away or like today. It gets difficult and you run away," he shouts.

"Are you nuts?! We are not a real couple. I don't owe you anything. If I remember correctly, you ran away after I told you about the worst day of my life."

"And why did I leave? To kill your rapist," he shouts.

"I didn't ask you to do that. I just wanted that when I confided in someone for the first time, to have a shoulder to cry on." Tears run down my cheeks.

His face softens and he runs his hand through his hair in frustration. "In my world, that's how it works. You get wronged and the person will pay for it with his life."