Once, my paranoid love

The room seemed to blur and spin around him as he took his first unsteady steps toward the bathroom, where he hoped a cold shower and some aspirin might alleviate his physical pain. But the pain in his heart, the worry for Elena, remained-a constant ache that refused to fade.

And as he stepped into the shower, the icy water hitting his skin like a wake-up call, he knew that he had to start by sobering up, clearing his mind, and setting out on the path to find the woman he loved, no matter where it might lead.

Paul had managed to alleviate some of the physical discomfort with the cold shower, but the worry about Elena’s whereabouts still gnawed at him. Determined to find answers, he made his way to the drawing room, hoping to talk to his mom.

“Mom,” he called out as he entered her elegantly decorated room. He expected to find her there, a familiar figure amidst the opulent furnishings.

But instead, his words hung in the air, unanswered, as the room appeared empty. Paul frowned in confusion.

Suddenly, a maid, dressed in a crisp uniform, dashed toward him. Her eyes held a mix of anxiety and eagerness as she addressed him, “Do you need anything, sir?”

Paul’s initial concern for his mother shifted to irritation. He was growing increasingly frustrated by the unanswered questions and the sense of things slipping out of his control. “No, where is Mom?” he asked pointedly.

The maid hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering between Paul and the door as if searching for guidance. Then, she replied with a hint of apprehension, “Madam left for the party.”

Paul’s irritation flared into anger. “Left? Didn’t I tell her not to leave without me?” He groaned, feeling a rising sense of exasperation.

The maid shifted uncomfortably on her feet, clearly caught in the middle of an unexpected confrontation. “I’m sorry, sir,” she mumbled, her eyes downcast. “Madam said she couldn’t wait any longer and had to leave.”

Paul’s frustration lingered as he sat on the sofa, contemplating the peculiar circumstances surrounding his mother’s sudden departure for a party.

“Make a cup of coffee for me,” he finally said, trying to regain his composure. A hot cup of coffee had always been his go-to comfort in times of stress, a small ritual that helped him gather his thoughts.

The maid nodded and quickly scurried off to the kitchen, leaving Paul alone with his thoughts. He couldn’t shake the feeling that his mother’s behavior was more than just an act of insensitivity. Despite knowing that her husband was in the hospital, she had chosen to attend a party. His frown deepened as he thought about her apparent insensitivity.

“Hypocrite,” he muttered under his breath, a mixture of anger and disappointment welling up inside him.

Paul’s gaze wandered, seeking a distraction from the confusing thoughts swirling in his mind. His eyes landed on a magazine resting on the coffee table. He reached for it absentmindedly, hoping to find a momentary escape within its glossy pages.

But as he flipped through the magazine, his attention was abruptly drawn away. A glimmer of something out of place caught his eye-an inconspicuous card nestled among the pages. It was the same card he had given to Anne, a card that had seemed insignificant until this very moment.

Paul’s heart raced as he retrieved the card, and his eyes locked onto the names of the bride and groom printed on it. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His hands trembled, and his grip on the card tightened in anger.

Paul’s thoughts raced, connecting the dots between his mother’s departure and the card. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, forming a picture he could scarcely comprehend.

His anger grew; he had been kept in the dark and manipulated, and now he knew that his mother was involved in a web of deception that had ensnared the woman he cared deeply for.

Clutching the card in a vice-like grip, Paul’s rage reached its boiling point. He couldn’t contain the storm of emotions raging within him. The very foundation of his world had been shaken, and the pieces were shattering around him.

“Elena!” he yelled, his voice filled with a potent mixture of anger, betrayal, and disbelief. In his turmoil, he lashed out, his fist colliding with the glass-topped table. It shattered into shards of glass that scattered across the floor, echoing the chaos that had erupted in his life.

His hand throbbed with pain, swollen and bloodied from the impact, but the physical hurt paled in comparison to the emotional turmoil that consumed him. Tears welled up in his eyes as he struggled to make sense of it all.

“How could you do this, Elena?” he whispered, his voice cracking with anguish. His love for her had been unwavering, his devotion unyielding, and now it felt like a cruel joke. The woman he had believed to be his soul mate, the center of his universe, had seemingly betrayed him in the most profound way.

“It’s not possible. You’re only mine,” Paul muttered, his eyes wide with a sense of madness that threatened to engulf him. In that moment, his world had narrowed down to a singular obsession-Elena. The idea of her with someone else was an unbearable torment.

Driven by a potent mix of anger and despair, Paul stormed out of the house, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridors. He had no plan, no destination in mind; he simply needed to escape the suffocating atmosphere of deception and betrayal.

“Sir, sir, please wait,” called a maid, her voice trembling with concern as she rushed after him.

As Paul continued down the path of his impulsive escape, another maid watched with wide-eyed trepidation. She knew the gravity of the situation. The web of lies and secrets that had been woven threatened to ensnare them all.