The Call That Changed Everything
1207 Words
The Call That Changed Everything
Romeo was in the middle of brushing his damp hair, fresh out of the shower, when his phone started to buzz furiously on the nightstand. He paused, frowning. It was past 10 p.m.—too late for a casual call.
Lena, the screen read.
His heart skipped.
He swiped to answer, but all he got was chaos on the other end. Muffled screaming. A crash. Then silence.
“Help… please!” the voice was barely audible, drenched in panic and fear.
“Lena? Lena!” he barked into the phone, gripping it tighter. But the call had already ended.
Without thinking twice, he grabbed his jacket, shoved his feet into the nearest sneakers, and bolted out the door.
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Scene Transition: Lena’s Apartment
Lena was frozen in place, back pressed against the wall as Rumel paced in front of her, his face a twisted mix of confusion and fury.
“I came all the way here for you! And this is what I get?” he spat, his hand raised midair before it dropped. “You act like you’re better than me now? Like you didn’t come from the same village?”
She remained silent, lips trembling, arms clutched around herself.
Her eyes darted to the couch, to where her phone had disappeared. She didn’t know if the call had gone through but God, she hoped.
Then there was a pounding on the door.
Both of them froze.
“Lena! Open the damn door!” Romeo’s voice sliced through the room like a hot blade.
Lena’s body jolted at the sound relief surging through her chest.
Rumel turned towards the door. “Who the hell is that?”
She didn’t answer.
The door flew open with a bang.
Romeo stood at the entrance, his chest heaving, eyes scanning the scene. Then he saw Lena barefoot, tear-streaked, her arms shielding her chest and he saw red.
“What the hell did you do to her?” he growled, stepping in.
Rumel squared his shoulders. “This is between me and my woman. Who the hell are you to interfere?”
Romeo didn’t say a word.
He moved so fast Lena barely saw it.
The punch came hard and clean, knocking Rumel backward into the wall. Lena screamed, but Romeo didn’t stop until he was sure Rumel wouldn’t dare raise a finger again.
Only then did he turn to her, his voice trembling, “Did he hurt you?”
Lena nodded slightly, tears spilling. “He tried to…”
Romeo’s jaw tightened. “You’re coming with me. Now.”
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Scene Shift: Romeo’s Apartment
Rain pelted the roof in heavy, rhythmic thuds as Romeo carried Lena in to the room. Her dress was torn at the shoulder, her face pale from shock. She clung to him, her body cold and trembling in the rain.
He moved quickly, the storm soaking both of them before they reached his place. With his foot, he pushed open the door and gently laid her on the bed. His clothes clung to his muscular frame, and droplets of water trailed down his face. Still, he didn’t seem to care about himself only her.
He grabbed a towel and began dabbing her forehead gently. She winced when he touched the scratch on her elbow.
“Easy,” he said softly. “You’re safe now.”
She sat on the edge of his bed, a blanket wrapped around her, her skin showing red marks where Rumel had grabbed her. Romeo stood nearby, rummaging through the first aid kit.
There was a cut under her arm, another near her thigh. Nothing deep—but they stung.
“This might hurt,” he murmured.
She didn’t flinch as he cleaned the wounds. She just watched him watched the gentleness in his hands, the concern carved into his brow. No one had ever looked at her like that.
When he was done, he paused, fingers barely grazing the curve of her waist.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice cracking.
Romeo looked up at her. “You don’t ever have to thank me for protecting you.”
She blinked at him, her breath catching. And for the first time in a long while, she didn’t push someone away.
She reached for him her hand on his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heart.
Romeo gave a soft, broken laugh.
“What?” she asked.
He met her gaze, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Back there… he began, not looking up. “When that guy was yelling… he said something.”
Elena stiffened slightly.
Romeo looked up at her now, his expression unreadable. “‘Who are you to interfere? This is between me and my woman.’”
Her lips parted, caught off guard.
“Your woman?” he said quietly. “Is that what you are to him?”
She didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes darted away, guilt flashing across her face.
“I don’t know what I am to him anymore,” she said softly. “It’s complicated.”
Romeo leaned back, a wry chuckle escaping him. “Complicated. That’s one way to put it.”
Their eyes locked again. The storm outside continued to rage, but in that moment, the silence between them was louder.
Elena shifted, reaching out. Her hand brushed against his. “Romeo…”
He froze. Tell me, who is he?
“I don’t want to think about him right now,” she whispered.
The rain had quieted, but inside the room, the storm was far from over.
Elena sat on the edge of Romeo’s bed, the soft towel wrapped tightly around her frame. He had just finished tending to her wound, his fingers gentle but deliberate, every touch sending a shiver through her.
Her eyes locked with his, and for a moment, the air between them turned hot… charged… dangerous.
She leaned closer, voice barely above a whisper. “If I asked you to kiss me… would you?”
Romeo stiffened. His eyes darkened, flicking briefly to her lips, then lower to where the towel ended. His boxer shorts betrayed him, rising with the weight of his desire, but he clenched his jaw, breathing in hard.
“Depends,” he said lowly, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. “I don’t like sharing my things—especially not my woman.”
Elena blinked, startled.
“I want to know who the hell he is first,” he added, his voice suddenly serious. “The man from earlier. Who is he to you, Elena?”
She looked away, guilt painting her features. Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of the towel.
Fine….. she whispered “My mother…” she started, then sighed. “My mother introduced us. He’s wealthy, owns businesses abroad, and apparently needed a wife. She thinks I’m getting old, and marrying him would be… safe.”
Romeo took a step back like her words had slapped him.
“And you? What do you think?” he asked.
Elena looked up at him, heart racing, throat dry.
But before she could answer, the room fell into silence—thick with things neither of them were ready to say… yet.
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- Writer
