I spent the rest of the day thinking of ways to execute the plan I had come up with.
A dangerous plan, but a plan nonetheless.
I had lunch, had a short conversation with Dave, who I was sure had a very limited vocabulary.
However, it seemed like he cared. Dave asked how I was doing in the way people ask how you were when they know something traumatic has happened.
Which meant a lot, because for once, I did not feel like I was crazy for feeling the way I did, feeling like a prisoner. I felt acknowledged.
Any minute now, I was expecting Damiano.
I had the pills ready for the grand plan: 8 Advils in total. That would knock me out for sure.
I was on the balcony, taking in the smell of the evening air. I felt the coolness on my face. I had watched the sun go down and just stayed there, waiting for me to talk myself out of possibly killing myself.
So far, I cried, prayed, and thought over the plan again and again.
However, the urge to escape Damiano Gusto was far stronger than the fear of dying.
I took my last sip of bourbon, my hands shaking as I carried the cup to my lips. I swallowed, allowing the liquid to burn down my throat, pushing down the tears just bubbling right beneath the surface.
He was almost home, I couldn't let him see me crumble.
The bourbon wasn't my drink of choice, but I needed the extra kick to go through with this.
"Your hair looks good like that", I heard him say.
He was probably referring to how I put my long hair in a braid, which almost touched my waist.
So he was giving me compliments now, I wish his compliments were an indication that he would let me go.
"You're early", was all I said in response.
Yesterday he got in way later.
"Dinner here?" I heard him ask from beside me. The smell of his cologne filled my nose, my nose twitched from the effect. Even after a full day, he still smelled the same.
On any other person, it was a rich scent. On him?
It made me want to gag.
With him away, I felt imprisoned; with him close by, I felt like I was in chains. Like I had been chained up, and he held the key, dangling it in front of me. Laughing.
I turned to look at him, his eyes were already on me.
Under this light, his grey eyes looked warmer. His tanned olive skin looked even richer.
I noticed the scar just beside his right brow, the scar from this morning.
I reached for it, the tips of my fingers brushing it.
"What a shame, it won't leave a scar," I said.
After dinner, I went to the bathroom, closing the door but not locking it.
I had the Advils in my hand, and I stared at them, my hands trembling.
I could die.
I looked at myself in the mirror and only then did I realise that I was crying, tears streamed down my face, I looked so much different from how I did on my wedding day.
I closed my eyes, not being able to look at myself when I did it.
Then I took them, swallowing them all at once with one big gulp. Then I opened my eyes and took sips of water.
I walked over to the tub and turned on the tap, getting in with my clothes still on.
I watched as the water filled the tub I was in, as I counted down the seconds.
Some minutes must have passed, and I felt myself slowly getting weaker, feeling dragged down by the pills now in my system.
Just when the tub was full, I turned off the tap and then lay back. Resting my head on the marble.
Tears still rushed out of my eyes.
I wanted to pray, but who would I pray to?
It only made sense that I prayed to my captor.
So I thought, Damiano, don't let me die.
Then I got into the water, immersing myself fully, hoping for the best, yet prepared for the worst.
Damiano's POV
She didn't say a word again, after telling me she wished it scarred, she didn't speak to me, or look at me again.
We ate dinner in silence. I had asked her if she wanted some art supplies, but she did not respond or spare me a glance.
Somehow I preferred her amber eyes shooting daggers at me or looking at me with such disdain, than for them not to look at me at all.
Had I gone too far?
Keeping her here?
Was she going to keep hating me and never give me a chance? She had every right to.
But the thought of her going back, going back to him, marrying him, or someone else, I hated it.
I hated the idea of watching her tie the knot with someone else so bad that I had to take her.
Watching her from a distance, barely seeing the little details on her, it was my torture. Not being able to see the birthmark on her right cheek, or her dimpled chin, or the way her eyebrows creased? It felt like my prison.
We finished dinner, and she went to the bathroom, closing the door shut.
I heard the water in the tub run, she was probably taking a bath.
So I decided to take a few drinks.
I sat on the couch, not being able to think of anything else but the woman in the tub only some feet away.
She hated me, I knew that for a fact. I just wondered if she was going to hate me forever.
What could I do to make her stop hating me now?
It had been over 30 minutes, I had stopped hearing the tap a while ago. I wasn't hearing her either.
So I knocked on the door.
She didn't respond.
"Sibel?" I called, knocking harder.
Nothing.
"Sibel?" I called again, knocking even harder.
Nothing.
I knocked for a few more times, but my patience was growing thin. What was she plotting?
Why wasn't she responding?
"I'm coming in", I said before going inside.
Just as I opened the door, my heart sank.
The first thing in my line of sight was Sibel in the tub, immersed in the water, not moving.
For just two whole seconds, I could not move; my heart stopped.
Fear gripped me, the familiar feeling of loss trying to creep into my chest.
My lungs drew no air, I could not look away, yet I could not react. My brain couldn't respond.
For just those seconds, I was brain-dead, numb.
The sight of her looking lifeless in the tub, wrecked me more than anything else could.
But I needed to save her, I couldn't lose her. That thought woke me up immediately.
I rushed over once I could finally move again, pulling her out immediately.
I laid her on the bathroom floor, checking for a pulse. There was nothing.
The feeling of her cold flesh made my heart ache with dread. I couldn't let this be the end.
Then I checked for any sign of breathing. There was nothing.
"Dave!!" I called out as loud as I could.
Without thinking, I gave her mouth-to-mouth, hoping for the best and praying to God I was doing it right.
I heard Dave come in as I blew into her mouth for the 3rd time.
"Call Matteo.
Call Matteo now!" I screamed right before blowing into her mouth again.
I heard Dave walk away, talking into the phone as I continued helplessly trying to resuscitate her.
How could she be this stupid?
How could she do something so impulsive?
What was I thinking?
Just then, I felt her breathe, coughing out water.
"Sibel", I said, pulling her to me.
Her amber eyes opened, very slightly, barely for a second. Then she shut them again.
She felt lifeless in my arms, barely breathing.
I scooped her up and took her to the bed.
I hadn't realised I was sweating until I put her down, turning to look for Dave.
"He's on his way".
Matteo arrived 20 minutes later, I had called him frantically 4 times to hurry up, after which he didn't pick up anymore.
"Did she take anything?" he asked just as he entered the room.
"I—"I stuttered, staring at her pale form on the bed.
"Damiano!" he yelled, making me turn to him.
"I don't know, but probably".
"She took something, see if you can find what it was", he said, dismissing me.
I went back to the bathroom, looking around, till I found a bottle of Advil.
I rushed back to the room, handing the pill bottle over to Matteo.
"Looks like she took 7 or 8.
She won't need to get her stomach pumped, she's just feeling the effects of the drugs right now.
For now, I'll have to watch her, in case anything happens.
Leave us, I need to get her in warm clothes".
I left her with Matteo, leaving the room.
My head still spinning from what had just happened, I almost lost her.
She wanted to die?
No, there was no way.
She couldn't have been that stupid, she couldn't possibly want to get away from me so bad that she tried to kill herself.
Maybe this was a plan, she wanted to escape, not die.
It had to be.
"Is she going to be okay?" I asked Matteo, I had given them space for about 2 hours.
2 hours which I took 5 cups of bourbon and burned through 8 cigarettes.
"I thought you quit", Matteo said with his hands crossed. He could always smell cigarettes on me.
I could tell he had a lot to say, yet he looked at me with a familiar look in his eyes, one I had grown too used to seeing. Pity.
He had been looking at me like that for years.
I looked over at Sibel, escaping my brother's judgemental stares.
She was hooked to an IV, and Matteo had gotten some other equipment to check her vitals and even some oxygen. She was breathing better, just like she was last night.
"Dave told me everything", I heard Matteo say. I could hear the controlled rage in his voice. Like he was trying to hold back.
I couldn't care for his judgment, I just felt so relieved that she was okay. That she was fine.
This could never happen again, not ever.
"How could you—— "
"Be so stupid?
Reckless?
Foolish?" I asked, still looking at Sibel.
Then I felt Matteo's fist hit my jaw, causing me to lose my balance and fall to the ground.
It was only the taste of blood in my mouth that made me realise just how hard he hit me.
The upright doctor just struck me, maybe I was a madman.
"No, Damiano.
Cruel", Matteo said.
I looked up at my brother, and the eyes that showed he felt sorry for me now showed that he felt disappointed and even disgusted.
His green eyes looked just like our mother's, so it had an even harder kick.
I felt like my mother had just called me cruel, a word I knew she'd use to describe her husband, my father.
"How could you do this?
You would take a woman out of her world, just to have her?
What were you thinking, Damiano?
Have you become so much like him?".
His words pressed on old wounds, but I wasn't going to let Sibel leave me just because my brother called me my father.
"She's mine.
And I do not care what you have to say about it", I said, helping myself up and ignoring him.
"Damiano, she most probably hates you.
She tried to kill herself", he said.
"I'll make sure she never does this again", I said, dismissing him.