When I Stopped Running

I'm Not Running Anymore 

Jessica's pov

"We're here, ma'am." 

The cab driver's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I blinked, staring through the window at the familiar street, my fingers tightening slightly around the strap of my bag and for a moment I didn't move.

New York.

Two years later and I was back.

"Thank you," I said softly handing him the fare.

I stepped out of the cab, my heels touching the pavement, and for a second everything felt still.

The air brushed gently against my skin, cool and alive, carrying the distant noise of traffic, voices and movement. The city hadn't changed, but I had.

I inhaled deeply, letting it fill my lungs before exhaling slowly.

The words felt strange in my mind, unfamiliar and heavy. Because this city had once been a prison.

I walked to the front door of the cottage with a sense of unease washing over me. I adjusted my grip on my bag and my hand barely lifted to knock before the door flew open.

For a second, neither of us moved then I smiled. "Hi, Rolly."

That was all it took. She rushed forward and pulled me into a tight embrace, her arms wrapping around me as if she was afraid I might disappear again.

''I missed you, best,'' she whispered, her voice breaking.

I closed my eyes, holding onto her just as tightly. ''I missed you too."

And this time, I didn't stop the tears. They slipped quietly down my cheeks as I buried my face against her shoulder, letting myself feel something I hadn't allowed in a long time.

We stayed like that for a while, just holding onto each other, letting the silence speak for us. It felt like home.

"Come in before you start crying all over my doorstep, " Rolda muttered, though her voice was still thick with emotion.

I laughed softly as she grabbed my bag and pulled me inside.

The moment I stepped in, something in my chest loosened.

The place look exactly the same.The same couch, the same curtains, the familiar scent of vanilla that always lingered in the air.

"Still looks the same," I murmured, glancing around.

Rolda dropped my bag beside the couch and shrugged "Yeah... I didn't change much."

I looked at her and noticed there was something behind her words, something unspoken.

"I stayed busy," She added quickly. "Work, shifts, anything to keep my mind occupied."

I nodded slowly. I understood that kind of escape.

"Living somewhere unfamiliar wasn't exactly easy either, " I said quietly.

Her gaze softened, and neither of us said anything for a moment.

Two years, that wasn't something you just talked through in a few sentences.

"What happened, Jesse?" Rolda asked gently.

I looked up at her, my fingers tightening slightly against my lap.

"You left without saying anything. Just one call and you were gone," she said, her voice breaking slightly.

"It wasn't something I could explain then," I replied, my voice low.

Rolda walked over and handed me a glass of water. "Try now," she urged me.

I took it from her, my fingers brushing against the glass as I stared into it. For a moment, I said nothing because where do you even begin?

"I was wrong about him," I finally said.

Rolda frowned. "Jake?"

I nodded, a bitter smile touched my lips.

"I thought I knew what I was getting into." I let out a soft, humorless laugh. "I didn't."

Rolda sat beside me, her body angled toward mine. "Talk to me," She responded, her eyes urging me.

I swallowed, the memories flooding in.

"He didn't change overnight," I said quietly. "That's the worst part."

Rolda's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

I looked at her. "He was already like that. I just didn't see it."

Silence filled the room for a moment.

"He took my phone," I continued, my voice steady but low. "Said I didn't need it."

Rolda stiffened beside me.

"He didn't want me talking to anyone. Not friends, not family."

Her fingers curled into fists.

"I couldn't go out alone," I added.

"There were always guards. Always someone watching." I paused, my throat tightening a bit.

"I wasn't his wife, Rolly...." I met her eyes. "I was something he owned."

The words hung heavily in the air.

Rolda's expression shifted from confusion to anger. 

"What?" She breathed.

I leaned back,staring into the ceiling.

"I kept telling myself it would get better," I whispered. "That maybe  this was just how things were supposed to be."

I shook my head slowly. "But it wasn't."

The silence stretched between us again, thicker this time.

"He never hit me," I added after a moment. 

Rolda looked at me quickly. "But he didn't need to."

My lips pressed together briefly.

"One look... one word... and I would  just..." I stopped, exhaling sharply. "...shut down."

Rolda reached for my hand, gripping it tightly.

"Why didn't you say anything?" She asked, her voice breaking somewhat.

I laughed softly, though there was no humor in it. "I was scared."

That was truth. Simple, ugly and real.

"He made sure I was," I added.

My gaze drifted away. "I didn't even go back when my mom got worse."

That was the part that hurt the most. The part that never left me.

"I thought if I left... he'd find me." My voice dropped. "And I wasn't ready to face him."

Rolda pulled me into her arms again, holding me tightly. "It wasn't your fault," she whispered. 

I closed my eyes... But it still felt like it was. After a while, I pulled away, wiping my face.

"I left," I said quietly, my voice calm and firm.

Rolda nodded. "Yeah... that part I figured."

A small smile tugged at my lips. "I signed the termination papers and walked out."

"Just like that?" She was surprised.

"Just like that." I chuckled.

She stared at me then shook her head slowly. "I wished I had seen his face."

I huffed out a small laugh. "Me too."

Silence settled again but this time it was lighter.

"I'm not going back," I said suddenly.

"Good. He doesn't deserve you." Rolda said in agreement.

"I need a favor," I instantly pleaded.

Rolda raised a brow. "That sounds serious."

"It is." I confirmed.

She leaned back. "Alright let's hear it."

I hesitated for a second before speaking. "I don't want anyone knowing I'm back."

Her expression shifted slightly but she nodded. "Not a problem."

"I mean it Rolly," I added. "I'm not ready to deal with anything yet."

She placed a hand over her chest. "My lips are sealed," She said with a smile.

Relief washed over me. "Thank you."

She grinned. "Always."

"You know, " she said standing up suddenly. "Your room is still here."

I blinked. "What?"

"I've been cleaning it," she added casually. "Did a little redecorating too."

Something warm instantly settled in my chest. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to." She grabbed my hand and pulled me up. "Come on ."

I laughed as she dragged me towards the stairs.

"Rolly!!!"

"No complaint. You're stuck with me now."

And for the first time since I got back, I felt at ease.

Later that night after Rolda had gone to the kitchen, I stood by the window of my old room.

The curtains were a little open, the street outside was quiet, too quiet. 

My gaze drifted across the road and then I froze.

A black car was parked across the street, engine running and lights off.

My breath caught. Something about it felt wrong.

My heart began to pound, "No...." I shook my head. "It can't be."