My Quiet Place

Chapter 58: Flavours

Panic and fear filled the air, mixing with the scent of sweetness and innocence that had just enveloped the room. Time seemed to stand still as I desperately searched for an escape route, my mind racing with thoughts of keeping the children safe.

My eyes darted around the room, assessing every possible exit. Fallen shelves are blocking the back door. The windows were shattered, and they were barricaded with tables and chairs. Trapped. We were trapped. The realisation sent a wave of helplessness crashing over me, threatening to drown out my determination.

I looked across the room, and my world stopped. Matteo and our daughter lay on the ground in a puddle of blood, their bodies still and lifeless. The sight struck me like a lightning bolt, paralysing me with grief and shock.

"No!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, my voice echoing through the gunshots and the desolate room. It felt as though my heart had been ripped out of my chest, the pain consuming me entirely.

I woke up with sweat covering me from head to toe, my heart pounding in my chest. It took a moment for reality to sink in as I gasped for air, my mind still trapped in the nightmare. Slowly, I sat up in bed, my trembling hands wiping the fresh set of tears from my cheeks.

I couldn't breath. Each breath felt shallow and suffocating, as if the nightmare had somehow found its way into my waking life. I tried to steady my legs, reminding myself that it was just a dream, but the fear still clung to me like a second skin.

The images of Matteo and our daughter's lifeless bodies lingered, haunting me even in the wake of consciousness. It was just a dream, I reminded myself, trying to regain my composure. But the pain and the anguish felt so real, as if the nightmare had somehow seeped into my waking life.

I got up, holding the bed frame for support, with my legs still weak. The room felt suffocating, and the air was heavy with the weight of my grief. As I stumbled towards the mirror, my reflection stared back at me, my eyes bloodshot and filled with a mixture of fear and desperation.

I needed to see him and touch him, just to reassure myself that he was alive and well. The dream had shaken me to my core, leaving me with an overwhelming sense of vulnerability. Every fibre of my being yearned for the comfort of his presence and the warmth of his touch.

I held the wall as I walked down the hallway to his study, my footsteps echoing in the silence of the estate. The familiar scent of his cologne lingered in the air, intensifying the ache in my chest. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if the weight of my grief was physically pulling me down.

I reached his study door and hesitated for a moment, my hand trembling as I reached out to turn the doorknob. He stood there at the window with his back turned towards me, staring out into the vast expanse of the estate. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on his silhouette. His broad shoulders and strong posture were a familiar sight, a constant reminder of the strength and stability he had always provided.

"Matteo," I said breathlessly as I finally gathered the courage to speak his name. The sound seemed to hang in the air, as if it carried with it all the weight of the unspoken words between us.

"Annika, What the fuck? Are you okay?" I hadn't even noticed Diego in the room until he spoke, his voice filled with concern.

Matteo turned around immediately, and before he could speak, I ran into his arms and buried my face in his chest, seeking solace and comfort. His embrace was warm and reassuring, just as I had remembered it. His presence was a comforting refuge, a sanctuary in the chaos of my emotions. Diego's voice faded into the background as Matteo held me, his steady heartbeat echoing in my ears.