Chapter 73 Seventy Three
Maya didn’t wait a second longer.
She slid an arm around Izzy’s shoulders, holding her gently but firmly, like she was afraid her friend would crumble if she let go. Slowly, carefully, she guided her up the narrow staircase, the sound of their shoes muted against the carpet. The apartment door loomed ahead, and Maya’s fingers worked quickly, unlocking it, swinging the door open, and easing Izzy inside. She moved with a tenderness that made Izzy feel fragile, like porcelain, like she could break if someone sneezed too hard.
The moment the door clicked shut behind them, Maya’s eyes swept over her…her face was pale, the edges of her eyes red, and there was a stiffness to her shoulders that spoke louder than words. Maya kicked off her shoes, ignoring her own exhaustion, and gently pushed Izzy toward the couch.
“Sit,” Maya said softly, but her voice carried authority, the kind that let no argument slip through.
Izzy slumped down, her body finally giving in to the exhaustion she’d been holding at bay all night. She didn’t even notice the couch beneath her. It was just a place to land, a place to let the weight of fear and adrenaline fall from her limbs.
Maya moved to the kitchen without hesitation, filling a tall glass with cold water. The sound of the water hitting the glass was loud in the quiet apartment. She returned a few moments later, pressing it into Izzy’s hands.
“Drink. Slowly,” she instructed, keeping her voice calm, steady.
Izzy’s hands trembled slightly as she lifted the glass. She took a few careful sips, letting the cold water run down her throat, soothing it like a balm.
Maya crouched in front of her, close enough that Izzy could see the concern in her eyes, the way they searched her face for signs of injury or more serious damage.
“Okay,” Maya said quietly, almost a whisper. “Now tell me what happened. Because whatever it was…whatever scared you like this…it matters. You need to say it.”
Izzy’s throat felt tight.
Her lips quivered, and for a long moment, no sound came out. She just stared at the carpet, her hands wrapped around the glass. But slowly, the words began to surface, shaky at first, like they were afraid of being heard.
She spoke about Dominic stepping out for a call, about how she had tried to dress up after they had sex, thinking she was alone.
“And then…” her voice dropped to almost nothing, a fragile thread. “Mark walked in.”
Maya froze mid-breath. “Mark?” she repeated slowly, her brows knitting together in confusion. “As in… your Mark?”
Izzy nodded, her throat tight. Her eyes were glassy, tears threatening to fall but not quite ready to spill.
Maya’s expression changed, confusion sharpening into disbelief. “Wait. That Mark? That useless, good-for-nothing son of a….” She cut herself off, eyes widening as the reality of it sank in.
“Yes,” Izzy whispered, her voice trembling.
Maya’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. She started pacing, her steps small but purposeful, as if moving could chase away the rage building in her chest. “So he just…what?…showed up? Like he had the right to be anywhere near you?”
“He said awful things,” Izzy admitted, her voice barely audible. “Then he… he touched me. I told him to stop. He didn’t stop.”
Maya spun around sharply, eyes blazing with fury. “What! … that bastard. He had the nerve,” she hissed, “to put his filthy hands on you?”
Izzy nodded again, and this time a single tear slipped free, rolling down her cheek. “He tried to force himself on me,” she whispered, barely able to speak.
That was it. That one sentence unleashed something in Maya she hadn’t known was waiting. She slammed her palm against the wall, the sharp sound echoing through the apartment. “I swear to God,” she snapped, her voice trembling with anger, “I’m going to kill that bastard.”
But then she softened, dropping to her knees in front of Izzy, She held her hands, squeezing them just enough to remind her she wasn’t alone. “Listen to me,” she said, her voice low and steady. “You shouldn't let him bother you.. He’s trash. Absolute trash. And none of this… none of it is your fault. I know how you think.. This isn't on you love it's all on him.”
Izzy nodded and let out a broken breath. Her chest heaved, and finally, the tears started to flow freely.
“Thankfully Dominic came back,” she said quietly, almost apologetically. “He stopped it.”
Maya exhaled sharply, relief and lingering rage intertwining. “Good,” she said, shaking her head. “Because if he hadn’t…” She cut herself off, refusing to even think about it. “I don’t even want to imagine that.”
She pulled Izzy into a tight, protective hug, letting her friend lean into her. “Its alright.. now,” Maya murmured into her hair. “I’ve got you. No one is ever touching you without your consent. Not him. Not anyone.”
Izzy buried her face in Maya’s shoulder, finally allowing herself to breathe, to release a fraction of the fear that had been coiled so tightly inside her chest.
Maya didn’t let her move much after that. She guided Izzy gently from the couch to the bedroom, pulling back the covers and helping her sit on the edge of the bed.
“Shoes off,” Maya said softly. “Jacket too.”
Izzy obeyed without a word. Her limbs felt heavy, like the exhaustion had finally caught up with her, dragging her down.
Maya retrieved a clean, oversized T-shirt from the drawer and handed it to her. “Change into this. Then relax,” she said.
Izzy changed quickly, the simple act of switching into something comfortable grounding her slightly.
She crawled into bed, sinking into the mattress like it was a small island of safety. Maya tucked the blanket around her with the same care she’d once shown when they were kids, smoothing a strand of hair away from Izzy’s face.
“I’ll make you some tea,” Maya said, standing. “Chamomile. It’ll help you relax.”
While the kettle boiled, Maya spoke softly from the kitchen, filling the apartment with ordinary sounds… complaints about work, traffic, how terrible some people were at driving. Anything to pull Izzy’s mind away from the fear, anything to keep her grounded in the present.
When the tea was ready, Maya returned, sitting beside her on the bed and handing her the warm mug. She accepted it, holding it with both hands, letting the warmth seep into her fingers, her palms, her soul. She took small sips, each one a tiny act of recovery.
“Tonight,” Maya said quietly, placing a hand on Izzy’s shoulder, “you’re not replaying anything. You’re not blaming yourself. You’re just resting. Okay?”
Izzy nodded, her eyes heavy with sleep but calmer than before.
Maya lay down beside her, careful not to touch too much, just close enough to remind her friend that she wasn’t alone. “When you wake up,” she murmured, “I’m right here.”
Izzy’s breathing evened out, slow and steady, and within minutes, she was asleep.
Maya stayed awake, watching her fall asleep.. breathe, listening to the quiet rhythm of her chest. Then Izzy’s phone buzzed softly on the bedside table. Maya glanced at the screen.
Dominic: Did you get home safely?
Maya took the phone in her hand and typed a reply quickly.
Maya: It's me Maya She’s asleep now. Don’t worry.
A pause. Then the reply came.
Dominic: I’m glad. Thank you, Maya.”
Maya: Anything for my girl.