Theressa lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Beside her, Marcelo slept peacefully, his back turned to her. She was grateful for the darkness that masked her anxiety, the steady rhythm of Marcelo's breathing offering a semblance of normalcy. But her mind was a whirlpool of thoughts, dragging her back to the day's unsettling events.
The old man. Will he be dead by now?
She replayed the moment in her mind, trying to make sense of it. And then there was the car. A black sedan parked just down the street, its engine idling. It had looked out of place, ominous in its stillness. She had felt a chill run down her spine as she glanced back at the old man, sensing that something was terribly wrong.
What if he's dead?
Theressa's thoughts were a tangled web of fear and guilt. She had done nothing to help him, just ran away after getting the information she needed. Now, lying in the dark, she couldn't shake the feeling that she may have made a terrible mistake.
Who would still be following him after all these years? Who is still scared about the truth spilling?
Theressa's mind raced through the possibilities. The old man had once been a prominent figure, embroiled in controversies that had faded from public memory but evidently not from the minds of those involved.
Theressa turned over, trying to find a more comfortable position. Her body was tense, her muscles aching from the stress of the day.
Theressa's phone dinged with a notification on the bedside table. She froze for a moment, her heart skipping a beat. Marcelo wasn't a deep sleeper, and the slightest noise could rouse him. Carefully, she reached for her phone, squinting at the screen. It was a message from Justin.
She hesitated, glancing at Marcelo's sleeping form beside her. He lay facing away from her, his breathing steady and deep. Theressa moved slowly, sliding out of bed with practiced stealth. Every movement was deliberate, each step cautious as she tiptoed across the room. She couldn't risk waking him, not now.
Her fingers fumbled with the phone, and she cursed under her breath. Finally, she made it to the bathroom, closing the door behind her as quietly as she could. She exhaled a sigh of relief before turning her attention back to the phone. The message from Justin glowed on the screen, urgent and insistent.
Theressa's fingers flew over the keys, typing out a quick response. She wasn't sure she and Justin could ever fully repair their relationship, but he was no longer an enemy. Despite his flaws-his stupidity, his infidelity-he was the only one she felt she could somewhat trust right now. He was the only one who might be able to help her untangle the mess she found herself in.
Marcelo. Her thoughts drifted back to the man lying in bed, oblivious to her clandestine activities. The guilt gnawed at her, but she couldn't stop now. She had to figure this out before it was too late.
She typed another message to Justin, arranging a time and place to meet. Every second she spent in the bathroom felt like a risk. She couldn't afford to stay there much longer.
If only Marcelo wasn't so selfish, Theressa thought, he could be her helping hand. She could depend on him, lean on his strength, and share the burden that was slowly crushing her. But Marcelo…
Marcelo was the reason her mother wasn't here. He was the orchestrator of the chaos that had descended upon her life. He had convinced her mother to seek revenge for her father's death, sending her far away on a dangerous mission. Marcelo had meticulously planned everything to keep Theressa trapped, to make her dependent on him, like a caged bird singing only for him. He was terrified of losing her, yet he couldn't truly love her.
Theressa swallowed hard, pushing the thoughts of Marcelo out of her mind. There was no time for this now. She had to focus on the present, on the danger that was rapidly closing in on her. She glanced at the mirror, seeing her own tired, anxious eyes staring back at her. She needed to be strong, to stay alert.
She took a deep breath and composed herself, turning her attention back to her phone. She and Justin had arranged to meet at a secluded spot downtown. She knew it was risky, but she had no other choice. Justin might be her only hope.
Justin was helping Theressa find the family member of the man they had placed in her father's grave. It was a lead, a fragile thread that might unravel the truth. Fortunately, Justin had gotten their address. Theressa didn't know how to thank him; he was the only one who had extended a hand to help her out of the abyss she found herself in.
She switched off her phone as she made her way to the bathroom door, preparing to slip back into bed. Her mind was a whirlpool of thoughts and emotions, barely containing the fear that had taken root in her heart. Just as she opened the bathroom door, she felt a piercing gaze from the side.
Theressa jumped, her heart nearly leaping out of her chest. She was beyond shocked by Marcelo's presence.
His back was against the wall, and he watched her lazily, his hands folded. His hair was perfectly arranged, belying the fact that he had just come out of bed.
"You scared me!" Theressa scolded, her heart still pounding in her chest. But Marcelo said nothing in return. Instead, he walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.
Theressa stood frozen, her hand on her chest, trying to recover from the shock. Her brows furrowed as she swallowed hard. Marcelo hadn't said anything. True, he had been talking less these days, but this felt different. His attitude was off, colder, more distant.
They hadn't been intimate for the past five days, and while she wasn't desperate for it, his disinterest troubled her. It wasn't just about sex; it was about the growing chasm between them. Marcelo's silence was like a looming storm, filled with unspoken words and hidden emotions.
The next day came slowly for Theressa, each minute dragging by with an almost torturous lethargy. Anxiety clawed at her insides, but she forced herself to stay composed. She and Justin had arranged to meet at a bar that doubled as Marcelo's vice den. Justin claimed this was where one of the family members of the man placed in her father's grave worked. The prospect of discovering the truth outweighed the danger of being caught.
Dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans, Theressa hoped her casual attire would shield her from being recognized. As she approached the bar, a sense of trepidation settled over her. The neon sign flickered ominously, casting an eerie glow over the entrance. She took a deep breath and stepped inside, blending into the crowd of patrons.
If she managed to sneak out yesterday without Marcelo noticing, she felt confident he wouldn't be able to spot her in such a crowded place. At least, that's what she believed.