Chapter 8: Bruised But Breathing
565 Words
Nina didn’t go back that night.
She stayed at a small guesthouse on the outskirts of the city, using the last cash she had in her wallet. The room was plain—no marble floors, no city views, no designer sheets. Just a bed with a faded quilt, a humming ceiling fan, and silence.
But for the first time in months, she slept in peace.
Her phone remained off, buried deep in her bag. She knew the storm she had invited by not returning to Sebastian. But she also knew something far more dangerous had been happening long before that: she was losing herself.
As she stood in front of the mirror the next morning, brushing out her tangled curls with her fingers, she studied her reflection—not the expensive makeup or jewelry—but the girl underneath. Tired. Bruised. Not physically. But deeply emotionally. Her eyes had forgotten how to smile.
She whispered to herself:
"You are not what he made you."
Later that morning, she took a walk to clear her mind. The world felt new in this quiet place. The smell of street food, the laughter of children, the sound of life untouched by wealth. For the first time, she felt like she could breathe.
But it didn’t take long before Sebastian found her.
He didn’t knock.
He stormed into the guesthouse, pushing past the front desk like he owned the building—which, to be fair, Nina feared he might.
He found her just outside her room.
“Nina,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, “Are you out of your mind?”
She stood her ground. “You don’t own me.”
“I do own you!” he snapped, grabbing her wrist. “You belong to me. You don’t get to disappear!”
His grip tightened, and she winced.
The receptionist called out, “Sir, please let her go!”
Sebastian ignored him.
Something in Nina snapped. Maybe it was the pain. Maybe it was the fear. Maybe it was the tiny voice inside her that had been screaming to be heard for so long.
She yanked her hand away.
“Touch me again,” she said, trembling, “and I will scream so loud this whole building will hear me.”
Sebastian stared at her—shocked, like he didn’t recognize the woman in front of him.
“You forget,” Nina said, her voice shaking but firm, “I had a life before you. I had dignity. I had choices. You don’t get to take that from me.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.
“I won’t be one of your toys, Sebastian. Not anymore.”
Then, slowly, she walked past him.
Each step away from him felt like reclaiming a piece of herself.
He didn’t follow.
He just stood there, stunned.
Because for the first time…
Nina didn’t stay.
That evening, Ama arrived at the guesthouse after Nina finally called her.
Her best friend didn’t say I told you so.
She didn’t say why didn’t you listen or what were you thinking.
She just held her.
Tightly.
As Nina broke down in sobs she’d been holding in for months.
Ama whispered, “You’re out. That’s what matters. We’ll figure the rest out.”
And Nina believed her.
Because healing didn’t start with forgetting.
It started with surviving.
- Writer
