Chapter 4 - THE SECRET INSIDE MY APARTMENT
The first time Ryan hit me, he apologized.
He cried.
He brought flowers.
He told me he was under terrible pressure at work.
He promised it would never happen again.
I believed him.
The second time, he blamed the alcohol.
The third time, he blamed me.
By the fourth, he'd stopped apologizing.
I told Aleandro all of this sitting on the edge of a bed that wasn't mine, wrapped in a blanket because I couldn't stop shaking.
He listened without interrupting.
When I finished, he asked, “Does anyone else know?”
I shook my head.
“My friend Maria suspects something.”
“Have you told her?”
“No.”
“Why?”
I stared at my hands.
“Because saying it out loud makes it real.”
Aleandro looked down.
For a moment, I thought he might say something comforting.
Instead, he said, “It's real whether you say it or not. But telling someone means you don't have to carry it alone.”
I began crying.
He passed me a tissue.
He didn't touch me.
I was grateful for that.
Then I remembered something.
“Ryan keeps a locked metal case in our apartment.”
Aleandro looked up.
“Where?”
“Under the bathroom sink. Behind a false panel.”
“Have you opened it?”
“No.”
“Do you know what's inside?”
I hesitated.
“Documents. A flash drive. Maybe cash.”
“How do you know?”
“Once, I came home early. He was putting things away.”
Aleandro's expression sharpened.
“What did he do?”
I swallowed.
“He grabbed me. Asked what I'd seen.”
I looked at the bruises on my arm.
“He said curiosity could get people killed.”
The room fell silent.
Then Aleandro asked, “Would you be willing to tell the police?”
My stomach tightened.
“Ryan knows people.”
“So do the police.”
“He said nobody would protect me.”
Aleandro's expression hardened.
“Ryan doesn't get to decide that.”
I looked at him.
“What if he finds me?”
“We can help you contact an advocate, arrange somewhere secure, and document the threats.”
I stared.
“You're not going to send your men after him?”
Aleandro's mouth tightened.
“There was a time I might have.”
“And now?”
He looked toward the photograph on my phone.
“Now I know that making a frightened woman safer is more important than making an angry man suffer.”
I studied him.
There was something complicated behind those words.
Something he hadn't told me.
But I was too exhausted to ask.
Instead, I whispered, “I want to get my things.”
Aleandro nodded.
“We'll arrange it safely.”
I shook my head.
“I don't want you deciding everything for me.”
He looked at me.
Then said, “Then tell me what you want.”
I took a breath.
For the first time in months, I allowed myself to imagine a life beyond Ryan's apartment.
“I want my passport.”
Aleandro nodded.
“My nursing license.”
“Yes.”
“My grandmother's photograph.”
“Of course.”
I swallowed.
“And I want to leave without him knowing where I went.”
May you like
Aleandro looked at me.
“Then that's where we begin.”
