Once, my paranoid love

Since morning, Eva had been trying to reach Elena, her growing worry manifesting in each unanswered call. Determined to ensure Elena’s well-being, she decided to dial Elena’s landline, and Pom answered the phone.

“Hello, Pom. Is Elena at home?” Eva’s voice held a note of concern. The events of the previous night had left both Eva and Elena unsettled, and Eva needed to make sure Elena was alright before facing the day ahead.

“Yes, ma’am. Elena ma’am is in her room,” Pom replied, her tone respectful and composed.

Relief washed over Eva at the confirmation. “Is she okay?” she asked, her worry obvious. The events of the night had cast a shadow over their usual peaceful atmosphere, and Eva couldn’t shake off her concerns.

Eva was so ashamed last night.

Pom’s response was measured, as if choosing her words carefully. “She seemed fine, ma’am. But I sensed that she was a bit tense, especially regarding Mr. Robert.”

Eva’s brow furrowed at the mention of Robert’s name. Her concern for Elena deepened. “What happened to Uncle Robert?” Eva asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and anxiety.

Pom took a moment before responding, as if deliberating whether to share the details. “I overheard a conversation, ma’am. It seemed like there were some difficulties related to the business, and it had upset Elena, ma’am.”

Eva’s heart sank at the revelation. The troubles that had been brewing within their family had clearly taken a toll on Elena.

“Business? Are you sure of it?”

“I don’t know, ma’am. It seems they are all worried about something,” Pom’s words carried a weight of uncertainty, hinting at a collective unease that had taken hold.

Eva’s worry about Elena grew even more pronounced. “Can you call Elena? I want to talk,” she requested, hoping to offer some comfort or lend a listening ear to her friend.

Pom’s response carried a note of apology. “I am sorry, Ms. Actually, Ma’am said not to disturb her. I think she is in a bad mood. She is not talking with me either. I don’t know what happened.”

Eva’s brow furrowed as she processed this information. The fact that Elena was avoiding communication with even those closest to her was a sign that her turmoil ran deep. It was unlike Elena to shut herself off like this, and Eva was determined to help her friend through whatever was troubling her.

Eva took a deep breath; it was obvious Elena needed some time. “Thank you, Pom,” Eva said with a sigh, acknowledging her efforts. “I will call later.”

**

Paul sat in the sterile white room of the hospital, his fingers tapping anxiously on his knees. The doctor sat across from him, a notepad in hand, ready to delve into the intricacies of his mind. The doctor’s voice was calm and soothing as he began his line of questioning. “Paul, can you tell me about your daily routine? How has your sleep been?”

Paul’s gaze remained fixed on the floor as he answered, his voice tinged with a touch of unease. “I… I’ve been having trouble sleeping. Nightmares. It’s been affecting my days.”

The doctor jotted down notes, his expression empathetic. “I understand that can be very distressing. Now, Paul, I’d like to ask you about your interests, your likes and dislikes. What brings you joy?”

Paul’s fingers clenched the edge of the seat, his mind racing. “Elena,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Elena? Can you tell me more about that?” The doctor inquired, his tone soft and inviting, as if coaxing Paul to open up.

Paul’s emotions swirled within him like a tempest. A mix of vulnerability and anger churned beneath the surface. He hadn’t anticipated the line of questioning to veer towards Elena, and a surge of defensiveness washed over him.

“Why are you asking about my Elena?” Paul’s voice trembled with a mixture of anger and vulnerability.

The doctor, taken aback by Paul’s intensity, smiled awkwardly and stammered, “I… I just want to know what you like about her? What is she to you?” His attempt to ease the tension hung in the air, his words carrying an air of genuine curiosity.

“What’s she to me?” Paul’s voice softened, the anger giving way to introspection. His gaze shifted, his eyes distant, as he tried to articulate his feelings.

“Yes, Paul. Tell me what she means to you.”

Paul’s hands unclenched, his fingers relaxing in his lap as he looked down. “Elena… she’s like a light,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “In the chaos of everything, she’s a calming presence.”

“It’s just…” Paul’s voice wavered, and his words were hesitant as he grappled with the truth within him. And then, suddenly, his face transformed. A sense of vulnerability replaced the anger that had once consumed him. “It’s like she is my source, my life,” he confessed, his voice carrying a weight of authenticity. “In my darkness, I only find a light in her. But sometimes she does not listen to me.”

Paul’s voice trailed off as he absorbed the doctor’s words. The weight of his revelations hung in the air, leaving a vulnerable silence between them. And then the doctor’s voice broke the stillness.

“What do you hate?” The question was straightforward, cutting through the layers of emotion that had been laid bare. Paul’s gaze shifted, his thoughts turning to the myriad of frustrations that had been gnawing at him.

Paul looked up at the doctor, his eyes clouded with a mixture of anger and resentment. “I hate everyone. People are covered with lies,” he replied with a bitterness that seemed to emanate from a deep well of distrust.

The doctor’s expression remained neutral, his tone nonjudgmental. “Then Elena? She is a human too. You don’t hate her?” The question hung in the air, a simple yet profound inquiry that probed the boundaries of Paul’s feelings.

Paul’s brows arched as he heard the doctor’s words, his thoughts racing. Elena, a beacon of light in his life, had managed to escape his general disdain for others. But the doctor’s question seemed to point to an inconsistency in his thinking.

The room felt heavy with Paul’s internal struggles. His paranoid tendencies had painted the world around him with shades of skepticism, leading him to see deceit and manipulation in the actions of others. Yet Elena had managed to carve out a place in his heart that remained untouched by his overarching distrust.

The doctor’s gaze was unwavering; he asked again. “What makes Elena different from the others, Paul?”

“Elena…” Paul narrowed his eyes, his conviction evident as he added, “Elena will never deceive me. She will not lie to me.” The words held a resolute certainty, a statement that cut through the uncertainty that often clouded Paul’s perception of others.

The doctor’s response was a nod, a thoughtful acknowledgment of Paul’s conviction. He took a deep breath, as if preparing to tread on sensitive ground. “Just imagine, though, Paul. What if she did? What if, in some unforeseen circumstance, she had to deceive you or tell a lie? What would you do? How would you feel?”

Paul’s brow furrowed, his mind grappling with the hypothetical scenario. The idea of Elena deceiving him felt like a betrayal of the trust he had placed in her, a disruption in the fragile equilibrium he had found with her.

His jaw tightened, and his expression was conflicted. “I… I.”

“Yes… Say it, Paul.” The doctor’s voice was steady, a deliberate encouragement to push Paul further into his emotions. He wanted to explore the depths of Paul’s thoughts and uncover the hidden facets of his psyche.

“I… I will destroy her.” The words spilled from Paul’s lips, laced with an unsettling intensity. His voice trembled as he uttered the unexpected declaration, and the air seemed to thicken with the weight of his revelation.

The doctor’s gaze remained steady, his demeanor composed even in the face of Paul’s sudden intensity. He recognized that he had struck a nerve, delving into a realm of Paul’s mind that had been shielded from view.

Paul’s words hung in the air, a palpable tension coiling between them. And then, as if his own admission had ignited a storm within him, Paul’s voice escalated into a shout. “I… I don’t know what I will do with her. She is only mine.” His words reverberated with possessiveness, a fervent declaration that bordered on obsession.

The doctor watched as Paul’s grip on his emotions slipped, his outburst giving a glimpse into the inner turmoil he had been wrestling with. Understanding that Paul had reached an agitated state, the doctor remained calm. He recognized that this raw display of emotion was a crucial point of entry into Paul’s psyche.

As Paul grabbed his head, the doctor’s voice cut through the chaos. “Paul, take a deep breath. I’m here to help you navigate through these emotions.”

“Why did you say Elena would do something? Why?” Paul’s voice erupted in a shout, his anger directed at the doctor. The outburst was a torrent of frustration, a reflection of the deep-seated doubts and fears that had been brewing within him.

The doctor’s gaze remained steady, his demeanor composed in the face of Paul’s anger. He understood that this outburst was a manifestation of Paul’s internal struggle and an opportunity to explore the thoughts that had been gnawing at him.

“Paul, I didn’t say Elena would do anything,” the doctor responded calmly, his tone measured. “I simply asked you to consider a hypothetical scenario. It’s a way to delve into your thoughts and emotions, to understand the complexities within you.”