The Bride Widow
Chapter 170: The concerns - Part 1

Chapter 170: 170: The concerns - Part 1

Anabella hurried down the dimly lit street, her eyes darting to every flicker of movement and every shadow that seemed to stretch and twist in her periphery.

The message she received earlier had plunged her into a state of heightened paranoia, the words "You’ve made a mistake" replaying in her mind like a sinister mantra.

The faintest sounds—a rustle of leaves, the distant murmur of voices—felt amplified, each one sending a shiver down her spine.

By the time Anabella reached her apartment, she was drenched in cold sweat, her body trembling.

She fumbled with her keys, her hands shaking so badly that it took her several tries to unlock the door.

Once inside, she immediately locked it behind her, sliding the deadbolt into place and pressing her back against the door, as if her weight alone could barricade against the unseen forces that she felt closing in.

Her apartment was dark, the only light coming from the streetlamps outside casting eerie shadows on the walls. Anabella didn’t bother turning on the lights.

She felt safer in the shadows, blending in with the darkness.

The idea that someone might be watching her, waiting for the right moment to strike, gnawed at her, feeding her growing paranoia.

The oppressive silence of her apartment was punctuated by the occasional creak of the building settling, each one causing her to jump.

She moved cautiously through her small space, peeking out of the curtains to ensure no one was lurking outside.

Yet, even with no visible threats, the feeling of being watched persisted, wrapping around her like a suffocating blanket.

As night fell, Anabella’s paranoia escalated.

She couldn’t bring herself to sleep, every creak of the floorboards and gust of wind outside making her heart race. She sat curled up on her couch, clutching a blanket tightly around herself, her eyes wide open and darting to every corner of the room.

Her mind raced with images of someone breaking in, of being caught off guard and unable to defend herself.

The tension reached its peak when her doorbell rang unexpectedly. The sound echoed through her silent apartment, causing her to freeze in place.

Her heart leaped into her throat as she stared at the door, the shadows outside appearing darker and more menacing.

Who could it be at this hour? Had the person watching her finally decided to make a move?

Gathering every ounce of courage, Anabella grabbed a heavy pan from the kitchen, her only makeshift weapon within reach.

She tiptoed to the door, her grip on the pan tightening with each step. Her breath came in shallow gasps, and her mind raced with possible scenarios, each more terrifying than the last.

She reached the door, pan raised, ready to defend herself.

The bell rang again, insistently.

Anabella’s hand trembled as she slowly unlocked the door, her muscles tense and ready to strike. She pulled the door open in a swift motion, the pan raised high, prepared to hit whoever was on the other side.

"Anabella!"

The voice was familiar, grounding her in an instant. Standing in the doorway was Clair, her expression a mix of concern and surprise.

The older woman stepped back slightly, raising her hands in a gesture of peace.

"Whoa, whoa, it’s just me," Clair said quickly, eyeing the pan in Anabella’s hand. "Put that down before you hurt someone—preferably not me."

Anabella’s grip on the pan slackened, and it clattered to the floor as a wave of relief washed over her.

The tension that had coiled in her muscles melted away, leaving her feeling weak and unsteady. Clair stepped inside and closed the door behind her, locking it as she did.

"I’ve been calling you for the past hour," Clair said, her voice soft but firm. "You didn’t answer, and I got worried. So I came to check on you."

Anabella’s legs gave out, and she sank to the floor, her back against the wall.

Tears welled up in her eyes as the weight of her fear and anxiety overwhelmed her. She covered her face with her hands, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape.

Clair knelt beside her, placing a gentle hand on Anabella’s shoulder. "Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now. I’m here."

The kindness in Clair’s voice broke through Anabella’s defenses, and she finally let the tears fall.

The sobs came in waves, wracking her body as she released all the fear and tension she had been holding inside. Clair sat with her, offering quiet comfort, her presence a steady anchor in the storm of Anabella’s emotions.

When the tears subsided, Anabella wiped her face with trembling hands, her breath still coming in uneven gasps.

"I thought... I thought someone was watching me," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I kept seeing shadows, hearing things. I felt like I was losing my mind."

Clair nodded, her expression understanding. "You’ve been through a lot. It’s normal to feel on edge, especially after everything that’s happened. But you’re not alone, Anabella. Noah and I are here for you."

Anabella met Clair’s gaze, the sincerity in her friend’s eyes offering a glimmer of hope. She nodded slowly, the relief of having someone she could trust by her side helping to steady her racing thoughts.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "I don’t know what I would do without you and Noah."

Clair smiled softly, squeezing Anabella’s shoulder. "You don’t have to figure that out. We’re here, and we’re not going anywhere."

Anabella leaned against Clair, drawing strength from her friend’s presence.

For the first time in days, she felt a sense of safety and reassurance that, despite the fear and uncertainty, she wouldn’t have to face it all alone.

Clair watched as Anabella’s breathing evened out, the younger woman finally succumbing to the exhaustion that had weighed her down.

She gently pulled a blanket over Anabella, her heart heavy with concern.

It was clear Anabella was struggling with something more than just the recent events.

The fear in her eyes, the way her body had tensed at every sound, it all pointed to a deeper, more pervasive anxiety.