Novelas y relatos de I Don't Feel Safe Anymore

“Bringing me tea, leaving little things on my desk. Buying me books. Listening. And I don’t know if it’s because he finally understands or because he’s scared of losing me. Maybe both. But I can’t figure out what I feel about it. Some days I’m… glad. Some days I’m angry it took him this long. And some days I’m scared to trust it at all.” Malik doesn’t jump in with advice like most people would. He lets the silence stretch a little, like he’s making room for the truth to breathe. Then he says, “What do you need to feel safe again?” I blink, caught off guard. “Safe?” “Yes,” he says. “Not happy or in love. Safe. Because until you feel safe, none of the rest will matter.”

“You need to feel safe.” “It’s not feeling safe. It’s being safe. Ever since I came back to Moon Valley, it seems fate has been attacking us from all sides. First, it was our love during the Uthando, then the kidnapping and mind games, now, my business. It’s just… too much.”

I stayed away for as long as I could and if it wasn’t for my mother cussing me out on the phone yesterday I wouldn’t be back here. My body is already on alert, I haven’t been here more than a minute and I’m already bracing for the worst. I didn’t realize how unsafe I felt here until this very moment. It makes me sad that my family home bring up so much fear and anxiety. This is no way for a child to live.

What if there was something I wasn't looking at correctly? Axel noticed my hesitation but he shook his head and let out a sigh. “Not directly. I mean, an attack wasn’t directed at anyone. But that doesn’t mean you’re safe. Not when they know you're with me.” Safe. The word felt foreign on my tongue as I looked to the ground with a small scoff. What did that word ever feel like? I had no idea. I hadn’t been safe in years. Not in my home, not in my marriage, not even here—in a penthouse guarded by trained guards.

0 When I hear the word safe, anger spikes again. 0 "Safe? I was anything but safe. I was passed from one shitty home to the next, homeless, unwanted. I was alone for a lifetime in a world that I didn't belong in. Wasn't there another way? Did you ever check on me?" I ask, trying to keep from letting the tears I can feel welling up behind my eyes from falling. "You gave me life and then you vanished from it." 0

I tear my eyes off his and look out the dark window, finding a sudden interest in the surroundings. "Does….the current situation affect your sense of security? Do you….want to come to my place again?". My first instinct is to snap no. But I find myself hesitating when I really consider my situation. The truth is I do not feel safe at any point when I'm alone. He was in that party with me today, and even right now, he could probably know my location. Basically, going home alone….no longer looks like the tantalizing option it used to be. I'm scared to walk into that house by myself. But to go to Alex's house again…..

“He told me there are others.” “Do you believe him?” “I don’t know what to believe anymore.” That night I sat on the couch with Lena. Evan and Maya were asleep upstairs. For a minute, the house actually felt quiet. “We got him. He’s in custody now.” “So why don’t I feel safe?” she asked softly, her hand shaking a little in mine. “Because we’ve been fighting for so long… we forgot what safe even feels like.” I pulled her closer, trying to convince myself it might really be ending. Then my phone rang at 11 PM. Unknown number.

I wasn’t just existing anymore. I was feeling again. Seen. Safe. Almost home.

After all, the sense of vulnerability I now feel in my own home, the fear that someone could come back and wreak more havoc, makes the idea of leaving the city seem more appealing by the minute. But the prospect of getting in the way of Karl’s election still weighs heavily on my mind. If it gets out that I went to stay with him, it could just make things worse for him. The last thing he needs is reporters showing up to his house, or even losing potential votes because of me. And yet, I can’t help but wonder if it’s simply too unsafe here. Between the reporters swarming out front like sharks in a feeding frenzy, negligent police officers, and now people throwing literal bricks through my wind

My back carried faint scrapes from rough bark and rougher passion. And yet… I felt good. Not just sated. Not just fucked-out and boneless. Safe. The word hit me like a slap and I froze, face still pressed into the pillow. Safe. When was the last time I’d woken up feeling safe without any of the men beside me? Was this bad development? I shoved the thought down hard. Buried it under the familiar armor of sarcasm and self-preservation. Feelings like that were dangerous. They made you soft. They made you stay.