I Am Fine

"Do you want me to get someone else?" Damien asked hesitantly. "A woman, maybe? Do you think you'll feel better talking to a woman rather than talking to me?"

For the first time since this nightmare began, I answered. "No," my voice was barely above a whisper. "I just… I’d like to take a shower. Maybe a change of clothes?"

"Yes, of course!" His voice lifted as if I had finally given him something sensible to do—something that could help, even if just a little.

He practically bolted out the door, his footsteps fading down the hall. For a few moments, I just stood there, hugging myself, my mind still reeling from everything. Then, not too long after, Damien returned, his arms full of clothes and toiletries.

"I brought everything I thought you might need," he said, placing them on a broken chair. One of its legs was missing, making it tilt slightly. "I asked Maddie to prepare it." He motioned toward the back of the room. "There's a bathroom right there behind you. You can use it. It has hot water."

"I know," I murmured automatically.

He stilled for a second, then nodded as if realizing how stupid his words were. "Right. Of course, you know." He shifted on his feet. "Okay… I’ll just leave you now."

"Okay. Thanks."

Damien didn't waste another second—he all but bolted out of the room. And I couldn’t blame him.

I knew what he was thinking. He thought I had been sexually assaulted. And since this was the mafia, we both knew I couldn’t take this to the police. To him, it probably seemed like something I would just have to endure, to move on from. But what he didn’t know was that this went far beyond just that.

Because coming from Asher’s mouth, the things he could do to me were endless.

After what felt like an eternity, I forced myself to stand. My legs were weak, my body sore, but I moved anyway. I grabbed the things Damien had brought and walked into the bathroom.

The hot water stung at first, my skin too sensitive, too raw. But after a while, it became a momentary relief from what awaited me in the future.

I let the water wash over me, trying to scrub away the feeling of Asher’s rage, his accusations, his cruelty. But no matter how hard I scrubbed, it clung to me, buried deep into my skin.

Eventually, I stepped out, dried off, and changed into fresh clothes. They weren’t mine, but they were clean, and right now, that was all that mattered.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door. And I stopped in my tracks. Damien was sitting right outside. Just sitting there.

His arms rested on his knees, his head bowed slightly, lost in thought. The sight of him there, waiting, made something tighten in my chest.

He felt guilty.

I could see it in the way he sat, in the way he wouldn’t even look up immediately. He blamed himself for this. For bringing me here. For letting this happen.

And that…That made me feel both a little happy and a little sad.

Damien stood up and cleared his throat. "I'll help you downstairs."

I nodded silently.

We walked down together, his steps falling a little behind mine. There was something about our relationship that I couldn't quite explain. He was the one who had gotten me this job after I had helped me once, and though he wasn’t as old as my parents, I sometimes saw him as a parental figure. Maybe more like an older brother. And I knew, in his own way, he cared about me.

When we reached the exit, I turned to him. "Thanks," I said. "I guess I'll just get a taxi."

But he shook his head. "No, let me drive you home."

I hesitated but then nodded. "Okay."

We walked toward his car. He opened the door for me, and I slipped inside, grateful for the small kindness. The drive was silent. Neither of us spoke, and I wasn’t sure if it was because neither of us knew what to say or because we both knew words wouldn’t change anything.

When we reached my apartment, he parked the car, but just as I reached for the door handle, his hand moved—almost instinctively—as if to stop me. But before he could make contact, he hesitated. His fingers hovered just inches from mine before he pulled back quickly as if I were fire.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking away. "I wasn’t thinking."

I forced a small smile, even though I didn’t really feel it. "It's okay."

He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. Taking out some cash, he handed it to me.

"Take as long as you need," he said. "You'll be paid by the end of the week as usual, but… just take this for now. In case you need anything. And if you ever do… call me. You still have a job, Ariella. Just take care of yourself first, you can always come back when you feel up to it."

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I took the money. "Thanks, Damien."

Something inside me told me this might be the last time I saw him. That after tonight, things would never be the same. And before I could stop myself, I leaned in, wrapping my arms around him.

He froze.

I could feel his body tense beneath my touch, and for a moment, I thought maybe I shouldn’t have done it. But then I kissed his cheek, whispering, "Thank you," before pulling away and stepping out of the car.

As I walked toward my apartment building, I glanced back briefly. Damien was still sitting there, still frozen, staring straight ahead as if trying to process what had just happened.

I didn’t look back again.

The minute I stepped onto the stairs, reality crashed back into me.

I had to be strong. I had a son who needed me.

He was sick, he needed a strong mom and I had no time to break down. No time to fall apart.

I had to keep moving forward for my little boy.