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The Call at 2:13 A.M.
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2026-05-22 19:42:13
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A Kiss For Every Bruise The Woman In the Mirror
GwenThe next morning, my mother wouldn’t come downstairs. Mrs. Alvarez eventually brought breakfast trays up to her room after several failed attempts from my father to coax her out. Nobody said the word breakdown. But it lingered over the house anyway.I sat at the dining table untouched coffee cooling between my hands while Sebastian worked silently from his tablet across from me. Matteo paced constantly. Like movement might stop him from thinking too hard. “She answered Camilla’s calls,” he muttered suddenly. Sebastian didn’t look up. “How many?” “Three times already.” My stomach tightened. Of course she did.Emotional dependency always intensified during instability. Last night’s confrontation would have driven my mother directly toward the person she associated with safety. Camilla knew that. Which meant she was probably reinforcing the attachment right now.The thought made nausea rise sharply inside me. Sebastian finally looked up from the tablet. “She’s isolating her emotiona
A Kiss For Every Bruise The Call at 2:13 A.M.
GwenI couldn’t breathe properly after that. The foyer conversation ended eventually, but not really. Nothing resolved. Nothing settled.My mother locked herself inside her bedroom before anyone could stop her. My father remained downstairs staring into untouched whiskey for nearly an hour afterward while Sebastian quietly made calls from the study.Matteo hovered. That was the only word for it. Hovering like he wanted to protect something fragile but didn’t yet know how. And me? I went numb. Not emotionally empty but worse because I felt overfull.I stood beneath scorching water for almost forty minutes after midnight trying to wash off the feeling of hearing my own mother ask: What happens to me if Camilla goes? As if losing her frightened her more than losing me once already had. The thought hollowed something deep inside my chest.By the time I changed into sleep clothes, the storm outside had worsened. Rain battered violently against the windows while distant thunder rolled acros
A Kiss For Every Bruise The Thing About Panic
GwenCamilla left ten minutes later. She kissed my mother’s cheek softly near the doorway, spoke in gentle reassuring tones, then glided back toward her waiting car with the same composed elegance she wore everywhere.Irregardless, I had seen the panic she so dearly, tried to conceal. Not because she feared exposure immediately. It was because she was losing emotional certainty. And people like Camilla depended on certainty the way normal people depended on oxygen.The front doors closed behind her and a heavy silence flooded the foyer instantly. My mother stood motionless near the staircase, arms folded tightly around herself as though holding something inside from spilling apart. “Mom,” I said carefully. “I’m tired.” The words came too quickly. Prepared and defensive. My chest tightened. “You were crying.” “No.” The denial arrived automatically.I stared at her quietly. She used to hate dishonesty. When we were children, she once made Sebastian apologize to me for lying about breaki
A Kiss For Every Bruise Dinner With the Devil
GwenThe house felt much more hollow after my mother left. I sat curled on the library sofa long after sunset pretending to read while rain lashed softly against the tall windows. The book remained open to the same page for nearly forty minutes. I kept hearing her answer in my head. "Yes." But fractured slightly around the edges. Like belief forced through fear.Matteo eventually entered carrying two glasses of wine. “You’re brooding theatrically,” he informed me. “I learned from Sebastian.” “Fair.” I accepted the glass quietly.The library lights glowed warm against dark wooden shelves while thunder rolled faintly beyond the estate. As children, storms used to bring us here together with blankets and stolen desserts while our father pretended not to notice.The memory hurt unexpectedly. Because suddenly I realized that before Camilla, before Mason, before Kai, before all the violence…I had once belonged somewhere effortlessly. I missed that girl sometimes. “She’ll come back,” Matteo
A Kiss For Every Bruise The Invitation
GwenMy mother avoided looking at me the entire morning. Not obviously and that was the worst part. It happened in fragments. A pause too long before answering me, eyes sliding away during breakfast, hands trembling slightly whenever Camilla’s name surfaced in conversation.Hairline fractures. That was what Adrian called them once during one of our late-night conversations. “Control rarely collapses dramatically,” he had said quietly. “It breaks in tiny uncomfortable pieces first.” At the time, I had been talking about myself. Now I realized he could have been describing my family too.I stood near the kitchen windows watching rain collect against the garden stonework while Matteo scrolled through financial reports across the island counter. The house felt restless lately. Like something beneath it had begun shifting structurally.“You didn’t sleep,” Matteo observed without looking up. “Neither did you.” “Fair.” A faint smile tugged briefly at his mouth before disappearing. Silence se
A Kiss For Every Bruise What Mothers Choose
Author's POV Camilla knew something shifted before anyone spoke. Elenna Cruize did not answer her morning calls immediately anymore. Forty minutes yesterday. Twenty-three this morning. Insignificant to ordinary people but not to Camilla.For her, attachment patterns mattered. Emotional dependency revealed itself through rhythm...response time, tone changes, hesitation and eye contact. And Luciana had begun hesitating. Which meant Gwen was succeeding and that was totally unacceptable.Camilla stood silently inside her penthouse office overlooking the city while one of Kai’s remaining operatives waited near the door, nervous. As he should be. “You sent the photographs too early,” Camilla said calmly. The man swallowed. “We thought pressure would destabilize her.”Camilla turned slowly as cold irritation sharpened her features. “And instead?” “She’s becoming more reliant on Salvador.” Exactly...Idiot. Fear only isolated people when they lacked emotional anchors. Gwen now had Adrian, Seb
A Kiss For Every Bruise Practice in Resistance
Gwen I learned quickly that resistance did not always announce itself as rebellion. Sometimes it arrived as restraint. The day after I named the cage, I did nothing outwardly remarkable. I woke at the usual hour. I joined breakfast. I listened more than I spoke. I let Camilla believe she had mis
A Kiss For Every Bruise A Cage With No Walls
Gwen The first thing I noticed, once I allowed myself to notice at all, was how little privacy truly existed.Not the obvious kind, there were no locked doors, no barred windows, no shouted commands. Camilla did not need those. She preferred subtler architectures. Courtesy. Concern. Family obligat
A Kiss For Every Bruise Separated By Design
Gwen I did not answer Adrian immediately. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I was afraid of how easily I did. His messages never crowded me. That, too, was dangerous. He sent updates about Kayla the way one might place a glass of water within reach of someone recovering from an illness. N
A Kiss For Every Bruise Stolen Choice
Gwen That night, I dreamed in fragments. Not the violent dreams, the ones with water and gunfire and the weightless terror of falling, but quieter ones. Disjointed scenes stitched together without chronology. A narrow bed. The smell of antiseptic. A ceiling fan spinning too slowly. Hands I could
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