Once, my paranoid love

“I understand,” Anne replied, her voice steady. She was well aware of the consequences of involving her crime partner in this matter. But she had reached a breaking point, and she needed a solution, no matter how ruthless it might be.

“Tell me what you need,” came the response. It was a voice devoid of sympathy or empathy, a voice that belonged to someone who thrived in the shadows.

“Listen, I’m done with Paul,” Anne declared firmly, determined to regain control of the conversation.

But the man on the other end was far from conciliatory. “You can’t even handle him, Anne,” he snarled, a hint of bitterness lacing his voice.

“Are you telling me this? What exactly did you do to him?” Anne shouted, her frustration boiling over. “You did nothing!”

“Even Paul doesn’t know who his biological father is,” Anne lamented, her anger momentarily giving way to a sense of sorrow.

“Oh, so you’re trying to blame it on me,” he remarked, his tone mocking.

“I wanted to accept him,” he said, his voice softening slightly, “but you were the one who divorced Han and married Robert.”

“Yeah, because it was the plan all along. Don’t forget about that,” Anne said in an angry tone, her bitterness at the man on the other end palpable.

“And you went to Mira as well,” she added, her voice filled with accusation.

The man let out a heavy sigh. “Anne, it’s not that simple,” he replied, his tone more measured now. “You know the circumstances and the choices we had to make.”

Anne scoffed. “Choices? You call them choices? You abandoned us; you left me to deal with everything on my own.”

Anne listened to the voice on the other end of the line, a voice that held both familiarity and a tinge of bitterness.

“You could come to me after her death,” he continued.

“You could come to me after her death,” he had said, his voice tinged with bitterness, “but you refused to take care of Ron.”

Anne’s brows furrowed as her thoughts swirled in turmoil. The words stung like venom, exposing the darkness that had long tainted her soul. She had never been a loving stepmother to Ron, and she knew it. Her heart was not filled with warmth and compassion for the boy, but rather with festering resentment.

“Why do I look after other children?” Anne thought bitterly, “He is your son, but he is not mine. His mother is Mira.”

The truth lay bare in Anne’s mind, a stark contrast to the facade she had maintained for years. Ron had never been welcomed into her heart, for he was a constant reminder of Mira, a woman she had envied and despised. Her jealousy had poisoned her, turning her into the embodiment of a wicked stepmother.

“Okay, forget it. We got what we wanted.” The person’s words had cut through the tension, offering a reprieve from the uncomfortable truth. Anne grasped at the change in topic, eager to divert her thoughts away from her own shortcomings.

“Honey, I miss you. When are you going to meet me?” Anne’s voice trembled with feigned affection as she asked the question. It was a question she had asked countless times, each time layering on more lies and deceit.

“I’m looking forward to meeting you soon. I can’t wait to meet my son,” came the reply, filled with eager anticipation. Anne’s heart ached as she heard those words, knowing the man on the other end was blissfully unaware of the tangled web of lies that surrounded their lives.

As the call ended, Anne let out a sigh, her guilt weighing heavily on her. She couldn’t deny the truth any longer, not when it stared her in the face. She murmured to herself, “It’s great to have you here.”

“My poor son,” Anne continued, her voice laced with bitterness, “is totally unaware that Han is not his biological father.” The truth hung in the air like a heavy shroud, suffocating her with guilt. She knew the day would come when her deceit would unravel and Ron would discover the painful truth.

Anne’s thoughts raced as she imagined Paul’s reaction. Would he feel betrayed, as if the ground had crumbled beneath his feet? She feared the anger and confusion that would consume him and the pain that would etch itself into his innocent heart. Paul had known nothing but love and care from Han, the man he believed to be his father. Paul loved Han as well, and Anne had manipulated that trust.

**

The clock struck noon, and a knock at the door startled Anne from her quiet reverie. She had been lost in her thoughts, her worries, and the weight of her secrets. Obin’s unexpected appearance disrupted her solitude, and she hastily set her coffee cup aside.

A polite smile formed on Obin’s face as he greeted her, “Mrs. D’Souza.” Anne couldn’t help but feel a little taken aback by his sudden visit. Her thoughts raced, wondering if this was another complication she had to navigate.

‘God! I don’t want any problems now.’ As Anne thought, she forced a smile at him.

“Mr. Obin, what’s the matter? Is there a problem?” Anne inquired, her concern evident in her voice. She wasn’t sure what to expect from this unexpected guest, but she braced herself for the worst.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

Obin’s smile remained bright as he responded, “No problem at all.” He seemed at ease, and his relaxed demeanor did little to ease Anne’s apprehension.

Anne couldn’t help but wonder about Obin’s purpose for being there. Her mind raced with questions. ‘Is he here to see Robert, but for what reason?’ She couldn’t fathom why Obin would visit her husband, especially at that time. ‘Did Obin doubt something?’ Anne’s face became pale.