91. Just like an Animal

“Emara.. If a guy likes you, he will do anything for you, without even asking.” Ana speaks gravely.
“Remember, a man in love can move mountains. He will work on himself, gather his shit, change his behaviour and will chase you to the ends of the earth if he truly wants you.”
Tears well up in my eyes, as I recall if anyone has really put any efforts for me, other than stripping my clothes.
*No one.*
“So stop running after these worthless dicks. The right one will come himself and prove to you why he is worth it. Just focus on yourself, and don’t vent up your emotions, and definitely don’t chop off your hair this time.”
Ana scolds me like a caring mother and I hug her, feeling overwhelmed with emotions. I starved for this feeling of being pampered and loved.
I have been touched countless times with lust, that I forgot what genuine affection feels like.
“Just talk to someone.” She pats my head lightly.
“I did. You.” I reply, hugging her even tighter.
“Yeah.. Talk it out, cry if you need to, let it all out until there is nothing left to cry about. Don’t harbour your bad memories, let them go or maybe file a case against that bastard. I fully support you.” She assures me and I break down in her arms.
“I love you Ana, and I am so sorry for being a jerk as a friend.” I sob uncontrollably, realizing how much I need her in my life.
“You are a jerk.. But it’s not your fault.” She scolds me gently, and whispers, “You are too sweet.”
We spend the entire day catching up on the gossip from the past three years, resolving our issues over pizza.
Later at 8 PM, I reach my *home sweet home*.
Forcing a smile on my face, I step inside and announce, “I am home.”
“Emara! Oh my baby, you are back.” My mother rushes over to hug me in her loving arms.
“I missed you, mom.” I confess, feeling her genuine love as an ointment to my wounds.
“I’ll make your favorite dish tonight. Go freshen up and come down for dinner. Okay?” She gives my cheeks a squeeze and it feels heavenly.
“Welcome back, champ!” My father greets me, and pats me on my back as a form of greeting.
“Hey, dad.” I smile at him, and look around, “Where is Ethan?”
“Gym. He started last week, said he wants to focus on himself. Both my children are up to something and always secretive.” He narrows his cop eyes at me.
“Next time, inform us before taking any abrupt decision, like disappearing for a week. Got it?”
“Yeah.. understood. I’ll go freshen up.” I give him a weak smile before quietly making my way to my room. My private space I have missed dearly.
As I open the door to my room, a flood of emotions overwhelms me. My room, though small, with lack of luxury is the most safest and peaceful adobe.
I close the door behind me, and fall to my bed, breaking into painful tears. I can’t believe after a week of humiliation, I am really back to my place where I can finally feel respected.
I hug my pillow, which has covers on it and stay for a moment to feel my sweet simple room again.
It’s better to be a princess of a hut, than being a whore of a palace.
* *Ping* *
My phone vibrates with a notification and I unlock to find a message from an unknown number..
*‘Come down’*
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly goes dry as I read the text. A sense of déjà vu hits me with full force, shocking me to the core.
I stand up immediately, my legs tremble as I walk up to my window and glance down at the street. A chill runs down my spine as I see an unfamiliar black colour car parked in the shadows of my street.
*Just like three years ago.*
My breath catches in my throat, and my skin turns cold as past trauma crawls back to my flesh, along with the haunted memories of that man.
*‘Whoz this?’*
My fingers quiver as I send the text with unsteady breaths. Pluses pound in my ears as I stare at my screen, waiting for the reply.
Every waiting moment feels like a sharp dagger, cruelly pushing in me, and after a few painfully-slow seconds, the screen lights up with a message..
*‘You deleted my number?’*
A jolt of panic courses through me, freezing me in place as my worst nightmare comes alive.
*Is it.. Is it..really him?*
Suddenly, the phone vibrates in my hand and I gasp in terror at seeing the incoming call from the same unknown number.
My heart rattles uncontrollable in my chest, thrashing in and out, unable to ignore the frightening power he has over me.
I hesitate, acutely aware that answering could unleash a torrent of painful memories I have fought so hard to conquer.
*Be a woman..*
Ana’s voice echoes in mind, and I take a deep breath, pulling up my brave panties to face the demon on the other side of the call.
“Helloo!” My voice comes out shaky, but firm.
“Amara..”
The deep resonance of his husky voice send chills down my skin, seeping deeper into my bones, and confirming my darkest fear.
It’s him.. *It’s Ryan.*
Only he ever calls me by that weird mis-pronounced name. *Nobody else.*
“I feel so bad.” He murmurs heavily, sounding a bit sad. “I don’t like how you deleted my number.”
Goosebumps form on my skin as I listen to his raspy voice, igniting a nostalgic spark within me as if he is touching me.
And I hate it.
“What do you want?” I ask him, gulping hard and holding on to the phone even harder.
“Come down.. I want to talk to you.” He breathes deeply, causing waves of shiver coursing down my spine.
“I don’t want to talk to you.” I manage to say with ragged heart beats, dreaded with the thought of facing him again.
“I figured you would say that.. That’s why I am at your place.” He replies casually, as if we are long lost buddies catching up.
And it hurts me even more.
How can he behave like we have a thing after all those years of ignorance?
“I am not coming down to meet you.” I spit out, refusing to let his smooth seductive voice manipulate me again.
If he had called me years ago, I would have gone crazy. But now, I am no longer under his sensual spell.
“Fine.” Ryan states roughly. “I’ll come up then.”
*What?*
“NO!” I gasp out loud in fear, knowing very well he will.
*I forgot how stubborn this fucker is!*
Ryan laughs.
His manly chuckles echo through the phone, causing to speed up my heart beats. I hate how I can picture him laughing with his sweet dimples denting his cheeks.
My stomach clenches as I hear him draw in a deep breath, and brace myself for whatever he is about to say.
“Come down.. I am waiting for you.”