Pain

Susan

The wine burned as it slid down my throat, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.

I stared at the half-empty glass in my hand, swirling the deep red liquid mindlessly. The restaurant was dimly lit, filled with soft laughter and the clinking of glasses. But to me, it was just noise...a dull hum in the background of the storm raging inside me.

I had told myself not to drink too much tonight. That I needed to keep my composure, to stay strong.

But strength had abandoned me weeks ago.

Across the table, Manuel sat, watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

“You don’t have to keep drinking,” he said gently.

I let out a humorless laugh, setting the glass down. “Oh, Manuel. That’s where you’re wrong.”

His brow furrowed. “Susan...”

“I don’t want to think anymore,” I cut in, my voice raw. “I don’t want to feel.”

I leaned back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling. My vision blurred slightly, and I blinked rapidly, refusing to let the tears fall.

“I hate this,” I whispered. “I hate feeling this way.”

Manuel didn’t speak, just waited.

So I let it all out.

“My mom is rotting away in that nursing home,” I choked out. “A shitty, underfunded place because I can’t afford better. Every time I visit her, she looks at me like she’s waiting for something...waiting for me to take her out of there, waiting for me to fix everything.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“But I can’t,” I whispered. “No matter how hard I work, how much I try, it’s never enough. I feel like I’m failing her.”

I took another shaky sip of wine before setting the glass down harder than necessary.

“And then there’s Elliot.”

Manuel’s eyes darkened slightly, but he remained silent.

“I should be doing everything in my power to push him away, right?” I let out a bitter laugh. “I took his mother’s damn money. I agreed to leave him. I tried every damn thing to make him hate me.”

I shook my head. “But he won’t. He keeps fighting. Keeps looking at me like I mean something to him. Like I’m worth something.”

My hands clenched into fists on the table.

“I don’t deserve him,” I whispered. “And yet, I don’t know how to let him go.”

Manuel let out a slow breath, his fingers tapping against the table. “Susan…”

I wiped at my damp cheeks and let out a weak laugh. “God, listen to me. I sound pathetic.”

“You sound like someone who loves him,” he said simply.

I flinched, looking away.

Silence stretched between us before he sighed, pulling out his phone.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice thick.

“Texting the one person who can actually fix this,” he murmured.

I frowned. “What...”

Before I could finish, my eyelids felt unbearably heavy. The wine was dragging me under, wrapping me in a hazy cocoon.

I barely registered Manuel’s voice as he sent a text.

Then darkness pulled me under.

***

Elliot

The silence between us was unbearable.

For the past few days, Susan and I hadn’t spoken a single word to each other. .. Nothing. Just a void stretching wider with every passing second.

And she didn’t seem to care.

She threw herself into work with Manuel, kept things professional, but the bastard still made her laugh. He made her smile...something I hadn’t been able to do in days. And it fucking burned.

I knew I had no right to be jealous. Not when I was the one who couldn't control my emotions, I let jealousy take the best of me. Not when I was the one she was shutting out.

But knowing that didn’t make it any easier.

Then, tonight happened.

I was sitting in my office, drowning myself in work I wasn’t even focused on, when my phone buzzed.

Manuel Fernandez.

I almost ignored it, but something in me said to check.

Manuel Fernandez: Come pick up your girl. She needs you.

Here’s the location.

My heart slammed into my ribs.

Before I could think, I grabbed my keys and was out the door.

I pulled up outside the restaurant, my grip tightening around the steering wheel as I checked the location Manuel had sent. The moment I saw his name flash across my phone, I almost ignored it, thinking he was taunting me again. But then I read the message...Come get your girl. She needs you.

That was all it took.

The restaurant was dimly lit, with an air of quiet elegance, but my focus was solely on the woman slumped against the table.

Susan.

Her dark hair fell over her face, her lips slightly parted as she lay there, passed out.

And Manuel? He sat across from her, watching over her like some damn knight in shining armor.

The sight made my blood simmer, but I forced myself to push past it. Right now, I needed to get her out of here. I needed her to come home with me.

I strode over to them, my presence catching Manuel’s attention first. He leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable, and then he exhaled as if he’d been carrying the weight of Susan’s emotions too.

“She had a little too much,” he said, standing as I approached. “And she’s not okay, Prescott.”

I ignored him, crouching beside Susan. “Hey, baby,” I murmured, brushing her hair from her face. She didn’t stir.

“She cried,” Manuel continued, his voice softer now. “A lot.”

My throat tightened. I looked up at him, but he wasn’t gloating. He wasn’t trying to rub it in my face.

“She’s hurting,” he said. “And you should hear what she had to say.”

I swallowed hard. “What did she say?”

Manuel hesitated, glancing at Susan. Then he sighed. “She talked about her mother. How she’s rotting away in that nursing home, and she feels like she can’t do anything to help her.”

My chest ached.

“She talked about you,” he added, his eyes sharp. “How she’s losing you, and how much it’s killing her.”

I sucked in a breath, gripping the table to steady myself.

“She thinks she’s not enough for you,” Manuel said, his voice quieter now. “That she never will be.”

A lump formed in my throat.

“She’s doing this because she thinks it’s the only way to protect herself,” he continued. “But between you and me, Prescott? She doesn’t want to lose you. She’s just scared.”

He looked at me then, his gaze sharp. “She’s in pain, Elliot.”

My jaw clenched. I already knew that. I had seen it in her eyes every time we passed each other at work, when she thought I wasn’t looking. But hearing it from someone else...from him...felt like a dagger twisting inside me.

I glanced down at Susan, her lashes fluttering as she fought to stay awake. She looked so damn tired. So fragile.

My breath hitched.

Manuel ran a hand through his hair, looking at her with something I couldn’t place...sympathy, maybe? Understanding? I hated that he had gotten to hear her raw emotions before I did.

“I don’t care if you hate me,” he said finally, his voice steady. “But I called you because she loves you. And right now, she needs you.”

I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. I just bent down and scooped her into my arms.

Susan stirred, her lips parting in a soft murmur. “Elliot…”

“I’m here,” I whispered, holding her close.

Manuel watched as I carried her away, and just as I reached the door, I heard him say, “Don’t let her break herself trying to please people who will never be satisfied.”

I didn’t turn around. But his words settled deep in my chest, burning there like an unshakable truth.

I placed her gently in the car, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Even in sleep, she looked troubled. I swallowed hard, starting the engine.

I had been so consumed with my own anger, my own jealousy, that I hadn’t truly seen her pain. But tonight, I saw it.

And I’d be damned if I let her carry it alone any longer.