LONG HOURS

The night is screaming with so much worry and deafening silence that cuts through the air. The falls of rain aren't reverberating with the same soothing feeling as other days. I am turning uncontrollably in Damian's arms, unable to settle and savor the safety I usually sample from him.


"Hun?" He calls after a long moment of battling to steady my qualms.

I jolt my face to him, and just like me, he also can't conceal the worry in his eyes. I am worrying him so much. "I..." Just then, his phone vibrates, and I let him check on it, which takes less than a minute.

"I am afraid that I could only get a 6:15 a.m. private flight. That's the earliest there is."


6:15 a.m. I check the time on his phone, and it is reading fifteen minutes to eleven. I still have seven hours left. Seven good, long hours of battling this anxiety and turmoil. It will be seven long hours before I say goodbye to this city and head back home. Unfortunately, I can't call it home sweet home like it's known in history because I don't know how my father will react upon seeing me after everything that has ensued between us. All in all, he is my father, the only parent I have left, the only family I have, and above everything that we have been through, I love him dearly. Too bad it took this for me to realize just how much I love him. This news of him just tickled all the love and affection I had for him.

"Hey!" Damian calls softly, stroking my shoulders, 'All shall be well. Don't think too much," he says.


How I wish that could calm me down. But I appreciate his efforts to calm me down all the same. "Thank you, Damian," I mumble so softly and lowly, but he heard me, albeit.

"You don't have to thank me, babe. You know I can do just anything for you and this is nothing," He states with a low, husky, broken voice.

The distress in him has hiked up more than it was minutes ago. I get him, though; this is hard for both of us. We have to part ways, which I am sure none of us ever thought of. This is all so sudden and deep. It is heartbreaking to know that I will say goodbye to him in a few hours and for an unknown period of time. We will be away from each other for the very first time, and I don't know how I will cope without him, but I have to prioritize my father. One thing is for sure, though: Damian has a permanent spot in my heart. I love him dearly, and come what may, I will forever love him. Forever!

I also cannot shake the thought that there is a possibility that the issue that brought about all this will be reopened once I hit home. The issue of me and that ghost fiance. I mean, I am going back, and if my father is unwell, then I know I am bound to cross paths with the Riccafortes. And perhaps, just perhaps, their son.

And looking at Damian right now, I know he is also thinking of that possibility and what the turn of events will be. And it is weighing him down.

"You know I have to do this, right, love? This is what is right. My father needs me so much, and I need to go to him," I implore.

"Come," He slides us under the covers, and we lay beside each other, facing each other, his one hand locking us together by possessing me from my back. "Of course, I perfectly understand, my love. Go to your father."

"Thank you, love. For understanding and for always being there for me," I respond, snuggling more with him to drink in his warmth.

He closes his eyes, caressing my back. "This was bound to happen anyway." His voice was deep, raw, and just above a whisper. It's like it was just him thinking out loud.

That echoes so differently. Even in the midst of the catastrophe of emotions running through me, I can sense the weight in words.

Dread.

Worry.

It sounds like something...anticipated? He was expecting something like this. And I am certain this is not about my father falling sick. This is something else. Perhaps what he was going to tell me before I received that call?

"You were to tell me something, babe. What is it? What is bothering you?" I query, raising my hand to his face.

I caress him gently, soothing his eyes to open. He bores into mine, scanning them for a pretty long while. "You need to rest. Don't worry about it. There will be time for that. For now, let's just rest, okay?"

Resting is a distant luxury for me tonight, I know. And for him, I am certain there is no way he can get even three winks looking like this. "But I need to know what..."

"You have a handful, Ellie." He cuts me off nicely. 'It is okay, love. There is time for everything. As long as there is us, we will have our time to talk about it and everything else some other time."

As long as there are us. I love that, because there will surely always be us. Forever. "There will always be us, Damian. Nothing can, or ever will, shatter this bond we have. That I surely promise," I say.

"Nothing, love?" He enquires.

"Nothing, love," I reassure him.

"Your assurance is all I need. Everything will be alright." He kisses me gently and encompasses me around him, switching off the lights in the hope that we can drift into a world of slumber.

But can we? How can we?

This screaming darkness and silence—they both echo with a weird resounding feeling that I can't quite decipher. I am enveloped by him, but this wrecking restless is so autonomous. It is so wild and weird yet real, and it is making me squirm.

Why?

Why am I feeling like this is yet another nightmare that is about to unfold? Why am I feeling like there is more than it seems, like there is more to this darkness and anxiety?