Once, my paranoid love

At midday, Anne returned home, her weariness evident in every step she took. The events of the past day had taken a toll on her, and she longed for a moment of respite.Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

Exhausted, Anne lay down on the bed, the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her. The secrets and complexities of her family’s situation had become a heavy burden, and she found herself at a crossroads.

“Should I tell Elena about it?” Anne mused quietly, her mind consumed by the dilemma before her. She knew that revealing the truth about Paul’s involvement in the recent altercation could have dire consequences. “I don’t think it’s the best time. She will not spare Paul’s life if she finds he was the culprit.”

As Anne deliberated, her thoughts drifted to her son, Paul.

“Ahhh,” she murmured, a sigh of exasperation escaping her lips. “This boy will never let me live in peace.”

Anne couldn’t stay in bed any longer. She needed to confront the reality of the situation and face her son and the consequences of his actions. With a determined resolve, she stood up and walked out of her room, heading towards Paul’s door.

She pushed the door open gently and found him dozing off, his rest disturbed by the events that had transpired. The wound on his back was a painful reminder of the violence that had unfolded.

Anne approached him, her heart heavy with a mix of emotions. She reached out and touched his wound gently, her voice filled with a mother’s sorrow and love. “My dear son! How could you hurt my son like this, Robert?”

Hearing his mother’s voice, Paul stirred and opened his eyes, blinking in the dim light. Confusion clouded his gaze as he tried to make sense of the situation.

“What are you doing?” Paul asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.

Anne met his gaze, her eyes reflecting a mother’s concern and determination. “Can’t I come to see my son?” she replied, her tone gentle yet firm. She retrieved a jar of ointment from the drawer nearby, a clear indication of her intention to care for his wounds.

Paul tried to rise from the bed, his determination evident in the way he moved. But his mother, Anne, was quick to intervene. She gently grabbed his arm and uttered a soft but firm command.

“Don’t move,” Anne insisted, her voice carrying the authority of a concerned parent. She began to apply the soothing cream to his wound with delicate care.

Paul reluctantly complied and settled back onto the bed, his thoughts swirling as he considered the consequences of his actions with Elena’s father.

As Anne worked on his injury, Paul found his voice, his curiosity about Robert’s condition overshadowing his own discomfort. “How’s your husband?” he inquired, his tone a mix of concern and guilt.

Anne’s reply was measured and tinged with disappointment. “He’s in a coma,” she revealed, her gaze fixed on her son. “You should not have done this, Paul.”

The weight of her words settled heavily on Paul’s shoulders, and he felt the full gravity of his actions. Regret gnawed at him as he considered the consequences of his violent outburst.

“But it’s a good thing he’s not dead, so now you can take over his company,” Anne added, her words carrying a note of practicality.

Paul’s voice, when he responded, was soft and weary. “Mom,” he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of exhaustion and longing.

Anne’s heart swelled with affection when she heard Paul refer to her as “Mom.” It had been many years since he had addressed her with such warmth, and the moment carried a sense of renewal and reconciliation.

She reached out and tenderly stroked his hair, her touch conveying a mother’s love and understanding. “Yes, honey,” she replied, her voice filled with compassion.

But Paul’s next question caught her off guard. “Are you human?” he asked suddenly, his eyes searching her face for answers.

Paul’s unexpected questions left Anne taken aback; her surprise was evident in her response. “What?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. She hadn’t anticipated that Paul would probe into her motives in such a direct and confrontational manner.

“Would you be happy if your husband passed away?” Paul continued, his tone probing and accusatory.

“Paul!” Anne exclaimed, her eyebrows arched in shock. The implications of his questions were both hurtful and challenging to her character.

Paul, however, pressed on with his inquiries, undeterred by his mother’s reaction. “Or are you merely interested in his money?” he asked, the bitterness in his tone unmistakable.

Anne’s heart ached as she attempted to explain her actions, her voice filled with a mix of frustration and desperation. “Honey, it’s because of you that I’m doing this,” she stated, her words carrying the weight of her decisions. She had always believed that her choices were made in the best interest of their future, but Paul’s questions called her motivations into question.

“My father did an excellent job divorcing you,” Paul retorted wearily, his voice tinged with resentment. “And you know what? Instead of hitting Elena’s father, I should have hit you,” he added, his anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“Paul!” Anne shouted his name, her eyes widening in disbelief at his harsh words. The pain of his accusations cut deep, and she struggled to find the right words to defend her actions.

He knew that Anne was ambitious and that she had left his father.

Paul’s single-minded fixation on Elena, his questions about her whereabouts, and his apparent indifference to his mother’s concerns left Anne feeling a surge of frustration and anger. She had always sensed an intense connection between Paul and Elena, but the extent of his obsession with her troubled her deeply.

“Where is my Elena?” Paul asked, his focus solely on his own concerns. “Did she leave home?”

Anne’s anger flared at the mention of Elena’s name. The girl had become a constant source of tension between mother and son, and Anne couldn’t help but resent the hold she seemed to have over Paul.

‘Elena Elena… always this scumbag’s name,” Anne thought bitterly, her frustration boiling over. She had long suspected that Elena had played a role in driving a wedge between her and Paul, and the mere mention of her name ignited a fierce protective instinct within Anne.

Anne was about to respond, to provide Paul with some information about Elena’s whereabouts or actions, but before she could utter a word, the maid suddenly appeared, interrupting their conversation with news of an unexpected visitor.

“Lady, there’s a person who wants to meet you. They claim to be looking for little Madam,” the maid informed Anne, her presence unexpected and somewhat unsettling.

“OK, I’m coming,” Anne responded to the maid, her voice carrying a sense of determination. She needed to understand the nature of this visitor’s interest in Elena and how it might impact their family.

Paul, however, was not content to be left in the dark. His curiosity got the better of him, and he pressed for answers. “Elena? Who are they?” he asked, his concern evident.

The maid, clearly flustered by the unexpected turn of events, stammered in her response. “I… I don’t know them, sir,” she admitted, her uncertainty adding to the tension in the room.

Anne intervened, seeking to calm her son’s curiosity and address the situation herself. “I will see who they are, Paul,” she assured him, her voice a mix of determination and unease.

Anne, determined to address the unexpected visitor seeking Elena, reassured her son as she left the room. “You take a rest,” she advised Paul, her voice filled with maternal concern. She knew that Paul needed time to recover, both physically and emotionally, from the recent events.

Before she departed, Anne subtly gestured to the maid, silently conveying her intentions. She wanted Paul to get some much-needed rest, and she believed that a dose of sleeping pills would aid in his recovery.

The maid nodded in understanding and went to fetch a glass of juice. She carefully mixed the prescribed medication with Paul’s drink, ensuring that it would be administered as discreetly as possible.

Returning to Paul’s room with the juice in hand, the maid presented it to him. Paul, still lost in thought and memories of Elena, accepted the glass without much thought. He took a few sips, oblivious to the hidden medication.

As the effects of the sleeping pills began to take hold, Paul’s eyelids grew heavy, and he gradually reclined on the bed. His mind drifted back to moments shared with Elena, their memories a bittersweet reminder of a time when their connection was simpler and less burdened by the complexities of their current circumstances.

Anne, in the meantime, made her way to meet the unknown visitor who had inquired about Elena. She was determined to discover the purpose of their visit and whether it posed any threat to her son. She was a bit nervous to meet them.