Once, my paranoid love

I let out a tired sigh, the weariness of the unresolved questions bearing down on me. “I just want to sleep, I just want to forget everything,” I murmured.

I got up on my feet and took out the drug and gulped without thinking twice.

I just want to forget Paul.

Derek drew me close to his chest, his arms a comforting cocoon that sought to shield me from the echoes of uncertainty.Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

“Elena, everything will be alright. Just relax,” he whispered, his words a lullaby in the midst of a tempest.

I softly closed my eyes, seeking refuge in the embrace of sleep. However, when I awoke, the world around me had shifted. Derek’s arms cradled me, Paulina peacefully nestled on the opposite side.

I rose from the bed, drawn towards the balcony as if guided by an unseen force. In the moonlight, the world sparkled, each glimmering detail etched with a subtle glow. A smile played on my lips as I took a deep breath, inhaling the tranquility that hung in the night air.

For a fleeting moment, the world seemed to paint itself in vibrant hues, and a sense of relaxation settled within me. The garden below unfolded like a canvas, its colors deepening in the moon’s gentle caress.

I knew it’s the effect of that small drug; but soon it would vanish.

I cast my gaze around, the memories of my first kiss vivid in my mind. In the jasmine garden, Paul’s lips had met mine.

e vowed to bring my mother to me, a pledge sealed with the tenderness of his touch.

But where are you now? The question echoed in the quiet recesses of my thoughts. You went to my mother before I could, I realized.

As my eyes welled up with tears, the moonlight cast a reflective glow on my cheeks.

I yearned for some fresh air, a reprieve from the suffocating weight that clung to the walls of the room. Emerging into the cool night, I embarked on a solitary walk, the breeze playing with strands of my hair in a tender dance.

The cold air embraced me, offering a semblance of clarity.

I halted, finding myself drawn to the edge where the land met the sea. The elevation granted me a panoramic view, the expanse of the sea stretching before me. Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply, letting the brisk air fill my lungs, if only to momentarily dispel the lingering shadows within.

The silence enveloped me until it was shattered by a sound-a familiar voice calling my name, “Elena.”

My eyes snapped open, and I turned, not startled by the recognition but by the unexpected tone that carried with it a resonance of the past.

Our gazes locked, and time seemed to suspend as my heart quickened its pace. There he stood, wearing a white shirt, his hair swaying in the breeze, a smile playing on his lips. It was Paul, my Paul, the echoes of a lost love materializing before me.

“Paul,” I whispered, a smile breaking across my face as I took hesitant steps toward him.

The distance between us seemed to collapse, and I reached out to touch him, as if confirming the reality of his presence.

“Is that you?” I questioned, my eyes moist with a blend of disbelief and longing.

“Paul, I knew you were alive,” I declared, my fingers brushing against his face.

“Mrs. Elena,” he abruptly said.

I grimaced instead of smiling. I quickly moved my hand and took a small step back.

“Are you all OK, Mrs. Elena? Do you have any hesitations about being around me?” Ethan’s inquiries punctuated the moment, the undertones of confusion palpable.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Mrs., say something,” Ethan urged.

“Didn’t you call me Elena just now?” I questioned, my gaze fixed on him.

“No, Mrs. You must have misread me.”

Enough is enough.

“I know you’re Paul!” I shouted, the declaration a culmination of the emotions that had long been held captive within me.

A heavy silence settled between us, punctuated only by the relentless roar of the waves crashing against the shore. Our eyes remained locked, entwined in a battle of wills, as if the truth itself hung in the balance.

He didn’t say anything, an unreadable expression etched on his face.

Unable to bear the weight of uncertainty any longer, I took matters into my own hands. My fingers tightened around the fabric of his collar.

Tears streamed down my face as I pleaded, “Say you are my Paul, Ethan, I know you’re Paul.”

“Mrs.”

“Why are you torturing me, Paul? Do you know how much I suffer because of you?” I cried, the pain of the unspoken weighing heavy on my heart. Tears blurred my vision as I gazed at him, searching for a trace of recognition in his eyes.

His gaze remained fixed on mine.

“Why?” I sobbed, my voice a lamentation, as I rested my head on his chest, seeking solace in the embrace of a truth I desperately longed for.

A few moments later, he called me again, “Mrs. Elena.”

He attempted to push me a little. However, I noticed that when he touched me, his hand trembled.

“I’m not your Paul, Mrs.,” he explained, his voice carrying a weight of truth that collided with the desperate yearning in my heart.

“Don’t you dare lie to me,” I retorted, tears welling up in my eyes, my grip on his collar tightening as if anchoring myself to a fragile hope.

“Listen to me, Mrs.,” he implored, meeting my gaze with a solemn intensity. His touch lingered on my hand, a gesture both reassuring and distant.

“I’m not your Paul. I may resemble him, but I am not him,” Ethan stated.

“I have a wife and a daughter, Mrs. Elena.”

“Did your Paul also have a wife and a daughter?” he inquired.

What?

The revelation left me wide-eyed, the pieces of the puzzle rearranging themselves in a way I had not anticipated. I immediately looked down, letting go of his collar.

He is married and has a daughter. The realization settled within me, a poignant reminder that the person before me was not my Paul.

“Yo-u? However, why did I have the feeling that you were him?” I stammered, at a loss for words.

Why did I get the sensation that you were Paul? I couldn’t comprehend the intricate dance of emotions that now swirled within me, leaving me unable to stem the flow of tears or find the words to articulate my confusion.