Once, my paranoid love

Anne’s heart pounded like a war drum as the venomous words slithered from Paul’s lips. Her brows arched involuntarily, a mix of disbelief and fury contorting her features. She locked eyes with Paul, her own son, his face contorted by a twisted perception.

“Paul, are you out of your mind?” Her voice trembled with a volatile mixture of hurt and anger. “What do you think of your mom? Am I that bad?” Her words carried an edge, slicing through the tense atmosphere that had suddenly engulfed the room.

Paul arched his brows and gave his mother an annoying glance while saying, “I don’t believe you, mom. I know what you can do.”

Anne gritted her teeth; her heart wanted to slap Paul at that point. Each syllable resonated with the years of devotion she had poured into raising him and the sacrifices she had made, all now seemingly tarnished by his reckless accusation.

Anne stood there, her fists clenched at her sides, as a torrent of thoughts raged within her. She could feel the weight of betrayal like a blade driven deep into her chest. How could her own flesh and blood harbor such suspicions? Yet there was more than just disbelief; there was a flicker of uncertainty, a spark of doubt that had begun to worm its way into her mind.

Inwardly, her thoughts took a darker turn, with a storm brewing beneath her outward facade. ‘I wish I could poison Elena,’ she seethed within the recesses of her mind. The venomous thought sent shivers down her spine, her anger fanned by the treacherous flames of jealousy.

‘I don’t know what this witch does to my son-that he becomes so devoted to her.’

But Anne knew she couldn’t succumb to such malevolent desires. Her moral compass still held sway over her actions, no matter how much her anger tempted her to cross the line. A bitter resolve settled within her, a sinister plan unfurling like dark petals in the corners of her mind. She vowed to make Elena’s life a living nightmare.

A cold, calculating smile curled at the corners of Anne’s lips as her mind wove a web of manipulation. ‘I will make sure you can marry that old man and leave this place,’ she whispered under her breath, the words a dark promise to herself. Her gaze shifted toward the window, as if surveying a future she had meticulously crafted in her imagination.

“Love, I know I am bad, but I am not that bad to kill someone with poison,” she responded, her voice a blend of warmth and vulnerability, a concoction designed to soothe his fears. She answered Paul calmly.

**

I sighed inwardly, a heavy exhalation of frustration at the perpetuation of Anne’s charade. Her manipulations had grown tiresome-a never-ending cycle of half-truths and calculated gestures. My patience wore thin, unable to bear the weight of her lies any longer.

Paul’s voice, tinged with a sense of resolution, cut through the tension like a knife. “Okay, it will be good as long as you don’t hurt Elena.” My gaze shifted toward him as he uttered my name, his eyes meeting mine with an unspoken understanding. Paul had always been by my side, the beacon of reason amidst his mother’s storm of deceit.

Anne’s smile wavered imperceptibly, a brief flicker of unease filling the cracks in her carefully constructed facade. She nodded in acquiescence, her eyes never leaving Paul’s. Her response was measured, her tone a blend of reassurance and veiled intentions. “Of course, Paul. You know I would never intentionally hurt anyone.”

I took a deep breath and finally interrupted their conversation, saying, “I think I should take some rest now. If you guys need to take it, please do it outside of my room.”

Paul spoke out as he heard me, “Yeah, you take a rest. I will do what I promise to you.”

Paul and I exchanged glances. I felt my heart race, and I lightly nodded. Then Paul’s mother asked, “What did you promise?”

“That’s none of your business.” Paul said as he walked out of the room. I locked my gaze on his path and turned back when Anne’s voice interrupted me.

Anne’s voice carried a thinly veiled warning, cutting through the air like a blade. “Elena, you should know your place. Don’t do anything that can hurt us, especially your dad.”

Her words held an undertone of authority, a reminder that I was merely a guest in their world, subject to their unspoken rules.

I narrowed my eyes at her, a mix of defiance and confusion swirling within me. What was she implying? Her cryptic words hung in the air, a puzzle I was determined to decipher. As her footsteps drew nearer, my heart quickened its pace, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation taking hold.

In a hushed tone, she continued, “Nowadays, your dad seems to be thinking about something.” Her words were laden with intrigue and a hint of uncertainty that belied her usually composed demeanor. My curiosity grew, and a hunger for information gnawed at the edges of my consciousness.

I turned to face her, my gaze unyielding as I sought to unravel the mystery she had presented. Before I could utter a word, she spoke again, her voice a mere whisper laced with a touch of vulnerability.

“He doesn’t share anything with me. Since last night, he’s been acting differently. I don’t know what they talked about.”

Her admission took me aback. Anne’s vulnerability was a rare sight-a crack in the facade that had shielded her true intentions. The mention of my father left me even more perplexed. What had transpired between them? Why the sudden secrecy?

A whirlwind of thoughts raced through my mind, each one more convoluted than the last. My father had always been a reserved man, but this new behavior seemed out of character. My instincts told me that Anne held more information than she was willing to share.