CHAPTER EIGHT

TRICIA'S POV

The moment I stepped into my apartment, I could finally breathe but even that felt forced.

The air felt heavier than usual, as though the ghost of Oliver Dale had followed me home.

I dropped my bag on the couch, pulled off my heels, and collapsed onto the cushions, pressing my palms against my face.

My pulse was still uneven.

I handled the situation like a professional or at least I tried to but I was trembling.

I could still see his face…still hear his voice…still feel that familiar menace that once haunted every corner of my life.

Why now? Why after five years?

I leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling, the faint hum of the refrigerator echoing through the apartment.

It felt surreal like the universe was playing a cruel joke.

“Get it together, Tricia,” I muttered, brushing a stray tear from my cheek.

“You’re not that woman anymore.”

But no amount of affirmations could quiet the storm in my head.

My body ached with exhaustion, and before I knew it, I had drifted off on the couch still in my work clothes, still clutching the remnants of fear.

And then… I was back there.

In that house.

The one with the marble floors that once shone like paradise but felt like a prison.

Oliver stood across the room, his face shadowed, his voice low but filled with venom.

“You thought you could leave me?” he sneered, stepping closer.

“You think you could hide from me, Trish?”

I backed away, my breath shallow.

“Stay away from me!”

But his grin widened, cruel and knowing.

“You belong to me….You always have.”

His hand shot out, fingers clamping around my wrist, and suddenly the air left my lungs.

“Please .. let me go…” I gasped.

“Never,” he hissed, his eyes blazing.

“You’ll never be free from me.”

And just as his face twisted into something monstrous, I felt a firm shake gentle yet urgent.

“Trish! Tricia, wake up!”

My eyes flew open as I jolted upright, breathing hard, drenched in sweat.

The dim apartment lights swam back into focus, and standing in front of me was Hendrix…his brows furrowed, eyes filled with concern.

“Hey, hey… it’s just me,” he said softly, crouching beside the couch.

“You were screaming.”

I blinked rapidly, my heart racing as the dream dissolved into fragments.

“Oh God…” I breathed, pressing a trembling hand to my chest.

“It felt so real.”

He reached out, steadying my shoulders.

“You’re shaking….what happened? Did you have a nightmare?”

I looked down at myself, realizing I was still in my work clothes.

My hair was messy, my blazer wrinkled, and my body felt like lead.

“I….I didn’t mean to sleep off,” I said, my voice shaky.

He frowned.

“You look like you’ve been through hell.”

I gave a humorless laugh.

“That’s one way to put it.”

He sat beside me, his eyes searching my face.

“Talk to me, Trish. What happened?”

For a moment, I hesitated.

Part of me didn’t want to say it out loud, didn’t want to make it real but the other part, the one that trusted him…knew I couldn’t carry this alone.

I exhaled slowly.

“Oliver.”

His expression immediately darkened.

“Your ex-husband?”

I nodded, my throat tightening.

“He came to my office today.”

Hendrix’s entire body went rigid.

“What?”

“He booked a session under a fake name…‘Mr. D.’” I swallowed hard, remembering the look in Oliver’s eyes.

“I didn’t realize it was him until he walked in…he said… he said he’d lost everything….That his life fell apart after I left and then he said…”

I trailed off, my voice trembling.

“What did he say?” Hendrix pressed gently.

“He said he would never let me go again.”

The words felt poisonous even as I repeated them.

Hendrix’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists.

“That bastard.”

I looked down, my fingers knotting together.

“I thought I was over it, Hendrix…I thought five years was enough to bury it all but when I saw him, it was like every bruise, every scream, every night I spent begging for peace came rushing back.”

He reached over, his hand brushing against mine.

“You have every right to feel that way. He traumatized you, Trish…seeing him again would shake anyone.”

A tear slipped down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away.

“I hate that he still has this effect on me. I’ve rebuilt everything… I’ve healed… and now he’s back, trying to ruin it all.”

Hendrix’s voice was low but firm.

“He won’t.”

I looked up, startled by the intensity in his tone.

His eyes were locked on mine steady, fierce, protective.

“You hear me?” he continued.

“He won’t touch you, won’t come near you. I don’t care who he thinks he is, he doesn't get to have that power anymore.”

Something inside me cracked at his words.

For years, I had fought to stand on my own to prove that I didn’t need saving.

But right then, hearing the conviction in his voice, I realized how much it meant to have someone standing beside me.

I nodded weakly.

“I just… I don’t know what to do now.”

“You don’t have to figure it all out tonight,” he said softly.

“Right now, you just need rest.”

He reached for the throw blanket on the couch and gently wrapped it around me.

His touch was careful, almost reverent, as though afraid I might break.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

He hesitated before brushing a strand of hair from my face.

“You’re safe here, Trish. As long as I’m around, no one’s ever going to hurt you again.”

My chest tightened.

The warmth in his eyes made it hard to breathe.

For a long moment, we just sat there…silence wrapping around us like a fragile thread.

The only sound was the soft ticking of the wall clock and the faint hum of the city beyond.

“Why are you always there?” I asked finally, my voice small.

“Every time I start to fall apart… you just show up.”

He smiled faintly, the corners of his eyes softening.

“Maybe it’s because I know what it’s like to be broken and I promised myself that if I ever found someone who understood that kind of pain… I’d never let them face it alone.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“Hendrix…” I breathed, unsure what I was trying to say.

But before I could think, he reached up slowly, deliberately and cupped my face in his hands.

“Trish,” he said quietly, his voice trembling just a little.

“I know this isn’t the right moment… maybe it’ll never be the right moment. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel what I feel.”

I froze, my pulse thundering.

Then, without another word, he leaned in and kissed me.

It was soft at first, hesitant, like a question he wasn’t sure he should ask.

But the warmth of it, the safety, the raw honesty…it broke something inside me.

For a heartbeat, I didn’t move.

My eyes fluttered shut, my breath caught between disbelief and something dangerously close to longing.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched mine nervously.

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have…”

I blinked, unable to form words.

My lips still tingled, my mind spinning.

He stood slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Get some rest, Trish,” he said softly, his voice thick.

“We’ll talk in the morning.”

And just like that, he turned and disappeared into his room, leaving me sitting there…heart pounding, thoughts in chaos.

I pressed my fingers to my lips, still trembling.

I didn’t know what scared me more …the return of the man who once broke me…

Or the possibility that my heart had just found someone new to trust.

Either way, one thing was certain

My life was about to change all over again.