𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 - 𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚔

i won't lose you.

My room looks smaller than normal. My anxiety makes me struggle to get more oxygen. My legs tremble as I walk from side to side in agony. With the cell phone in my hand, I try to search for Garrett in the messaging app. Maybe I should call, so he can hear my despair, but my shame won't let words come out of my mouth. My palpitations echo in my head, making the keyboard sound muffled in my ear. I can barely see what I'm writing, because my tears are piling up in my eyes, leaving my vision blurred.

Oliver came to my house, help, I'm afraid he'll come back. I don't want to scare him. Before pressing the send button, I delete everything off.

I record a voice memo.

I start talking slowly, so I don't start crying hysterically in the audio. "Hi Gat. I know it's late and maybe you're asleep, but I'm not well. Something happened here at home and I'm very scared... you can come over here or I can go to your house... please." My voice starts to break with the crying and I end the audio.

After a few minutes that the message was sent, he visualizes it. He types in for a few seconds, which speeds up my heart even more. I can't feel my fingertips, which starts to scare me.

I never knew how to deal with my anxiety crises. When I was 14 years old, I started taking anxiety medications, which worried my parents that I needed such heavy medications so young. After a few years, I stopped taking the pills of my own free will, which did not please my father at all. My mother supported me because she knew that I would be addicted to the medicine that paralyzed my feelings when they were on the blink of an eye and would need to take them for the rest of my life. But as a result of this, stronger crises came, but I still refused to take the medicines. I still have some pills hidden in my bathroom, because even though I don't want to get attached to them, maybe this is the moment I need them most. But I also need Rami the most.

gat: i'm coming

Reading his message soothes my heart a little, but the tears continue to descend through my warm cheeks, sitting on the floor, leaning my back on the bed and bending my legs. My fingers rub the palm of my hand in circular movements, trying to calm me down. My eyes wander through the room lit only by the lamp in the corner of the room.

After a few minutes, I hear a sudden brake noise coming from the street. My tears have dried, but my breathing is still insufficient. I hope I don't start hyperventilating. Through the window, I see Garrett's car in front of my house, a new Kia Sportage, silver in color and big wheels, parked a little crooked near the curb. I don't know very well what to say and how to say, which will make him a little impatient with me.

He walks down the sidewalk in large steps and walks towards the front door. I have to go down the stairs, so I open my bedroom door quickly, revealing the corridor lit by white light bulbs. I hear Garrett knocking on the door over and over again, making me rush my steps. The doorknob is cold to my touch, but with a firm movement, I open the white door, revealing Garrett with wide eyes, looking for answers.

"What happened?" he asks, looking at my swollen eyes from crying, "Was it Rami who did this to you?"

"No, he didn't do anything," I tell him, lowering my head and taking a step back so he can get into my house. His eyes go through the place, looking for something wrong. I close the door slowly, so I have time to think about how I'm going to say this. There's no other way to say it. "It was Oliver. He showed up here." My voice is low and full of sadness.

His expression changes from worry to anger. Even hatred. Garrett never liked Oliver and always made that clear. After I broke up, he made a point of driving me to the places I wanted, so I wouldn't be left alone, soon after we found out that Oliver followed me from time to time. This scared me very much and led me to move to a family property that he never knew about. But now that Garrett is aware that Oliver is back, he won't let me leave the house alone, not with Rami in New York.

He takes a few steps to me and hugs me tenderly. His arms cling to me and he buries my head in his shoulder, serving as a shelter for my emotional shake-up. Our body is next to each other and my hands hold tightly to his back.

My body relaxes with his, soothing my breath. I close my eyes and imagine that Rami is right beside us, hugging us too. God, how I miss him.

"You spoke to Rami?" he asks, with his head resting on mine.

I move away from him, undoing the hug. "I'm not going to tell Rami." I tell him, defensive.

"You'll tell him because he's your boyfriend, you must be honest and tell him that you were in an abusive relationship and that now your ex-boyfriend is chasing you again." His voice gets louder and louder.

"I don't want to let him worry about me, I can take care of myself."

"No, you can't," he says, following me around the room.

I snort hard and turn to him. "Don't tell him, please. I feel ashamed, please don't tell him." Garrett doesn't understand that Oliver has his eye on Rami too, following everything he does. Why did he follow me to my house, after Rami went to New York, after finding out we're dating on tabloids?

"Oliver knows about me and Rami. Why did he decide to get closer now that I've found someone else? Now that Rami isn't around? Think Garrett. I don't want to put Rami at risk."

Garrett looks for his iPhone in his pants pocket. "I'll call him."

I sit on the couch. I know Garrett is stubborn and I know I won't convince him to keep it a secret, so I throw myself on the couch, giving up. I hear the sound of the phone keys dialing Rami's phone number, but only a few of them. I feel my heart beating fast, I feel my pulse clearly. I didn't want Rami to find out like this, but I know how I am. I wouldn't tell him so soon. Maybe it's better that way.

Garrett walks into the kitchen and I see that Rami has answered the call because he started to say something almost whispering. My cold sweat begins to spread through the palm of my hands. I hear him agreeing and tapping his fingertips on the counter. I move around on the couch and turn back, trying to decipher his thoughts from his expression.

His eyebrows are arched, his eyes calm but looking from one side to the other as he explains the situation and listens to what Rami has to say. He turns his gaze to me. He stays silent for a few seconds before he starts walking. Walking towards me. After a few long steps, he extends his arm with his phone in his hand. His eyes suggest that I take it and talk to Rami, but for half a second I hesitate not to accept it. But I end up getting the phone.

"Hello," I say, between my teeth.

"You're all right, aren't you? Did that guy hurt you?" he fires several questions.

"Honey, I'm fine, don't worry, it wasn't a big deal, he's gone and Garrett's here now," I answer, trying to calm him down in vain.

"And when Garrett's not around?" he asks, shutting me up.

I turn around and walk to the big window in the living room, overlooking the street. I lower my voice so I can talk to Rami alone.

"Why didn't you tell me he was there? I can hear his heavy breathing from the phone call.

"Because he was on my side," I answer, trying not to remember those seconds of fear.

"He was with you when I called you?" he asks, his voice getting louder.

"That's it, I'm going to London," Rami concludes.

"No Rami, you don't have to come if you're worried about me. You have your job there and you can't..."

"I'm going anyway, Dominique. I won't leave you at his mercy, I won't lose you. Bye, I love you."

He hangs up the phone call.

He loves me.