Page 66 of Piece By Piece

The sense of utter helplessness washes over me, and I can sense the color draining from my face. It makes me feel powerless and weak. Incapable.

It reminds me too much of my incapability of changing my shitty situation growing up. Too much of my mother and the times my father would take his anger out on me.Always out of control. Always helpless.

A familiar weight settles on my chest, heavy and suffocating. I scream through the tears, trying and failing to rip my hands from my restraints. I can’t believe this is happening. Can’t believe I’m having a fucking panic attack, tied up, naked, and alone.

Chapter 29

Sebastian

“It’s happening again”that’s all I can think about as I race toward my parents’ estate. For god’s sake, thirty minutes. That’s how long it took for me to see my mother’s message. I was so wrapped up in Aliena that, of course, I didn’t check my phone. Still, I can’t help but blame myself.

My mother needed me thirty minutes ago and I was too busy to fucking notice.

“It’s happening again”I know what she means, of course. My piece of shit father is out, cheating while my mother is crying about him.

Growing up, my mother often tried to hide that part of her marriage from me but every once in a while, she couldn’t stifle her sobs and I’d find her, head in her hands and curled up against a wall, nearly hysterical.

She’s scared he’ll leave her. That one of these times, his affair will turn into her divorce and his new marriage like it did with her, and she’s so fucking scared to lose him, despite him being a fucking jerk.

I don’t get it, I never have. Why she would fight for him when the way he treats her barely meets the bare minimum, and yet I could never ignore her when she felt bad about it either.

When I reach my parents’ place, I jump out of my car and get into the house, my worry spurring me on. I can’t believe this is where I am now. Not when I had so much planned for Aliena. Fucking hell, I feel like a piece of shit just thinking about her and that sad look on her face when I told her I had to leave.

I told her I would take care of her and then I flaked. I know it’s unacceptable. Especially after I asked her to trust me. The only thing soothing my guilt just slightly is knowing that I already prepared her a bath before I left, at least. It’s not how I wanted things to go but she can soak a while and maybe, if my mother’s not feeling too bad, I’ll be back at my apartment before she knows it.

But something hits me at that moment and my steps falter, dread washing over me like a bucket of ice. I come to a halt in the middle of the stairs leading to the first floor, slowly shaking my head to myself as I realize that Aliena can’t take a bath. Not really. Not with her hands still bound.

Oh, god. A wave of nausea hits me, my mistake dawning on me. I can’t believe it slipped my mind to untie her.Did I really forget?Maybe I did? I can’t remember if I went through the motions in my hurry or not.

The possibility that I did sits entirely wrong with me. Fuck. I reach for my phone with shaky fingers, intent on calling her when a pained sob hits my ear.

My head snaps up, looking in the direction of my mom’s room and then back at my phone. I’m conflicted only for a second before my mother sobs again, sounding as if she were choking on something. I pocket my phone again and rush up the rest of the stairs to reach my mom.

I find her curled up in the far corner of her room, her sweat-slicked, dark her sticking to her face as she criesdesperately. Cursing to myself, I crouch down in front of her, reaching out to pull her into my arms as my heart breaks.

I hate seeing her like this. Hate to think that she’s been like this for over half an hour already. “Shh, mama. I’m here. It’s okay,” I murmur against the top of her head, squeezing her tightly in an attempt to hold her together so she can stop falling apart.

“Please, calm down. You need to breathe,” I urge when I realize just how choppy her breaths are. I pull away enough to wipe her hair from her wet face, cupping her cheeks to get her to look at me. Only to have her looking right through me as she trembles and sobs.

My brows crease in worry. She’s having a fucking panic attack, and I don’t know what to do. I’ve never seen her like this. I’ve never let it come to this before.

“Mama, listen to me. Just listen to my voice. You need to breathe, okay? Do it with me. Come on,” I beg her, trying to do what I did to help Aliena that time she had a panic attack.

Slowly, painfully slowly and after a lot of desperate convincing, my mom finally catches on to what I’m saying and slows her breathing in time with mine.

“Hijo,” she finally sobs, recognizing me at last. She throws her arms around my neck. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I had to text you. That you had to come here. I should be able to handle this alone,” she speaks choppily, each broken word tearing deeper into my chest.

“No, mama, don’t say that. Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong.” It’s not her fault I left Aliena the way I did. She couldn’t have known I was with someone. That’s all on me. I’m still glad she texted me, though, as messed up as itmay be. I hate to think what might’ve happened if I hadn’t come to help.

As she keeps crying in my arms, my hate for my father festers. I want to tell her to stop wasting her tears on such a screwup, that he’s not worth all her love and pain, and that she should get a fucking divorce and move on.

Knowing it would only upset her further, I don’t say any of that. Instead, I eventually move us to the bed where she cries herself to sleep, still clinging to me. As she quiets and drifts off, my mind goes back to the girl I left at my home.

Did she manage to get out of her binds by now? I really hope so. I don’t care if she cut the silk up into a million pieces, I just hope that she’s fine.

I want to call her, but I couldn’t do that without waking my mom and now that she’s finally resting, I can’t risk it. I want to text her but don’t, out of fear that it would be considered a cowardly move. After all, what I did isn’t something I can apologize for over text.

In the end, I convince myself she’s fine and asleep by now. Surely angry as hell at me but I can deal with that. So, pushing the memory of her hurt face far, far away, I let myself doze off uncomfortably next to my mama’s bed, her frail hands still gripping mine too firmly to leave.

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