Chapter 27, Esmeralda

I haven't had bad days in a long time. Ever since Milo and I fixed things between us, I've been living in a literal bubble of joy and happiness, as if nothing could ever reach me from here.

But soon enough, reality slapped me across the fucking face. Hard.

I was at home, and my boyfriend and I were watching episodes of Grey's Anatomy when my phone rang. Unknown number.

I put my fork in my noodles box, and placed it on my lap, then casually but cautiously answered, thinking it would be one of those spam calls, or a business one, and that's when I heard his voice.

"Hello, Esmeralda."

I didn't know a voice could make you remember so many things at the same time. The rush of memories was so violent, and nausea hit me so hard, that I had to gasp for air. I never thought I would hear that voice again, I really believed I was free, that the man who raped me couldn't get to me anymore. That was so goddamn naive of me. I am so stunned, and frozen by shock, that I don't even react for a long minute, until he speaks again.

"Missed me, kitten ?"

Kitten. My vision is so blurry that I have to blink multiple times, and hold on to Milo to keep from falling over. He is shaking my arms gently, a confused and scarred expressing marring his features. He might have said something that I don't hear because of how loud my ears are ringing.

My hands are shaking so bad, the phone slips from my hands and falls on the floor. Milo bends down and picks it up, then looks at the caller ID. The person had seemingly hung up, but I couldn't even care less, not when all I can think about is his voice, and the memories, and the first time he raped me, and me trying to kill myself and suddenly I can't breathe.

I need air.

My head is so heavy and I need air.

My throat is so tight I feel like it's bleeding.

I need air.

Warm hands are on my face, but I squeezed my eyes shut to hold the thoughts back. I feel fingers wipe my tears and swipe the thumbs on my cheeks.

"Open your eyes for me, baby." I hear Milo say, even if it sounds like I'm underwater, and somehow, hearing him talk feels so much better than the constant echoing of the other sound that's on repeat in my mind. I crack my eyes open, then blink a few times to clear my vision.

The first things I see are his gorgeous green eyes, looking down at me with unfiltered pain and worry. My breathing is growing heavier and heavier, and my forehead is sweaty. I look at my surroundings, in order to try to focus on anything else but it's no use.

"Look at me."

I meet Milo's irises again, "You're having a panic attack, love. I need you to focus on me, okay ?"

It takes a few seconds, but I finally nod. He's always been one of the few people to know how to help me handle my panic attacks, and having him around right now is comforting, so I give myself over to Milo. I trust him with everything I have.

His hands leave my face to move to my waist. He helps me up, then sets me on his lap, so our faces are at the same level.

"Alright, now I need you to hold your breath for five seconds, then release it."

I swallow the bulge in my throat, and attempt to do as he says, except my sobs are too wrenching that I have to wait until they calm down a bit. Milo's there for me all along, patiently encouraging me, and rubbing my back gently.

When I'm finally able to, I follow his instructions, before releasing a long breath. It actually works helping me calm down the thundering beats of my heart.

"Right there," He praises with a soft kiss to my head. "You're doing so good, baby."

Once the anxiety attack slowly stops, all I am left with is red puffs eyes, and still shaking hands.

My boyfriend has his arms around me, comforting me as well as he can, and I love him so much for it. But I know it's time to give him answers about who called me.

I sit up, and let him untangle me from his embrace, then clear my dry throat.

Better rip the bandage off in one shot, right ? "That was my rapist. That's who called."

I witness a hundred emotions go through his expression, but the most prominent one is anger.

No, not anger. Fury. Red, hot, raw fury.

He squeezes his fists so tight his knuckles turn white, and I can literally see him struggling for self-control.

He growls, "Give me that phone back."

Oh boy, I've never seen him so angry before.

I have no idea how I should act, at the moment. I'm so damn lost and I can't seem to find the way back. I don't know what else to do, so I silently hand my cellular back to him. He snatches it from me and manages to unlock it. Before he can call the number back, I put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"Don't put it on speaker. I- I can't hear his voice again."

It's the truth. I don't think I can handle another panic attack, because of how draining this one has been.

Pain and real sadness flashes through his eyes, but it's replaced by that early anger in the blink of an eye.

He clicks, and brings the phone to his ears.

Mr. Brown answers right away.

Mr. Brown. I haven't said his name in my mind in a fucking long time, just because my trauma made me dissociate his identity with the abuse he was executing on me. In my broken mind, he was only my rapist, no one else.

The breath is knocked out of my lungs, when Milo's features twist in pure disgust and lethal rage at what the monster he's speaking to is probably saying.

"What the fuck do you want from my girlfriend ?"

A pause, where he listens to his interlocutor.

"I will fucking end you for what you've done to her ! Do you hear me ? You're done with. I swear to God that if I see you I will fucking kill you."

My heart skips its next beats. I don't know what the hell I expected him to say, but that was definitely not this.

Another long minute where Milo only seems to get angrier, and I can't help but chew on my nails to keep from fidgeting.

"You're a pussy ! You're a fucking pussy for thinking you can get away with this ! I promise you'll end up behind bars, and I never break my promises !" I try not to flinch when he screams at the phone, before furiously hanging up.

He takes some time to catch his breath, and to calm himself down to look at me.

And I think it's when I realize that he's doing it for me. He doesn't want to unleash his anger on me, eventually make me feel bad. It is also at this moment that how much love I have for me strikes me, even harder than the slap reality gave me earlier. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. My best-friend in the entire world.

When Milo lastly raises his eyes, and meets mine, I am shocked.

He has a victorious, evil smirk on his face.

I don't even need to speak to ask him what's going on.

"Tell your parents to send you their best attorney's contact. I just got this fucker's confession on record."