Chapter 135 - Panic Attack

|Innaya|

No one liked to wake up to the news of visiting the hospital. I certainly did not. After last night's events, I thought Eshan had forgotten about taking me to the doctor temporarily. So, when he woke me up while being extremely bold with his hands only to tell me that we needed to hurry, my mood was ruined.

I stared at his handsome face and his slightly damp hair. He had even taken a bath. I wondered for how long he had been awake. My sleepy mind still refused to process what was happening.

"What time is it?" I sleepily asked him, but then my sleep vanished when I felt a movement across my stomach. My hand instinctively holding onto his hand that was wandering across my stomach and waist over the comforter.

I looked at him who was seated beside me while I was still under the soft comforter. Eshan abruptly leaned down, and my eyes flew open, not sleepy anymore when he skimmed his nose along the skin of my cheek.

"It's 10 in the morning." His low voice came out muffled against my skin as his lips pressed against my earlobe.

"W-what are you doing?" I stammered unable to bear the surging reaction of my body towards his actions. Was I dreaming? When did Eshan become so bold? One moment he told me to hurry up for visiting the gynecologist, and in the next moment he was being so— passionate.

Instead of replying to me, Eshan pulled me in a sitting position along with himself. "What—" Before I could react, he had turned me around. His hands now worked on lifting the top of my pajamas upwards from my back.

"Eshan?" I called out his name as I immediately stilled and then reached out to hold his hand to stop him. What was he trying to do?

My heartbeat quickened. My sleepy mind was not able to fully comprehend the situation. It happened so suddenly. I was sleeping soundly, and the next thing I knew was Eshan's unexpected behavior.

As we were still on the bed and he had abruptly pulled me, the comforter pooled near my waist around my front. I raised my head, catching Eshan's gaze in the mirror across us near the wall at the opposite side of the bed.

His dark eyes looked at me with emotions that made me shiver under his gaze.

His other hand loosened my hand that was stopping him from doing god knows what he wanted to do. I could only watch as he placed my hand by my side and holding my gaze, he lifted my top slowly and then he hoisted it completely from the back till my shoulders and held the fabric near my neck.

I clutched the comforter at my front and raised it till my neck reflexively. I truly did not understand his intentions, but I knew he wouldn't do anything that would make me uncomfortable. I trusted him that much. However, I could not help but feel anxious.

The morning light filled the room and unlike yesterday, everything was visible clearly. Showing him my scar in the dim light did not feel so nerve-wracking. Mustering courage to bare my wounds before him was what I did yesterday, yet just a night had passed and could not bear to do it again.

"Tell me if you feel uncomfortable," Eshan said as his fingers reached out for my camisole. His eyes never left mine, and I started getting what he wanted. He wanted to take a look at that scar without the camisole hindering his gaze. That would mean, showing him my bare back. I had never even worn a backless dress ever, so being that way before his eyes… Was I ready for it?

I held his gaze and nodded after thinking for a couple of seconds. One day or another, he was going to see all of me. So, this could be considered nothing compared to it. I let him do what he wanted. It was not like I had something to hide from him. No, I'd told him and shown him most of the things.

Eshan's fingers graze my spine and then trailed upwards taking the helm of camisole in them, leaving my back bare for his eyes. His drifting fingertips made my skin shiver, leaving a burning trail in their wake. I could hardly feel anything except the way my body was reacting to Eshan's unintentional caresses. Were they truly unintentional? I did not know.

My fingers tighten on the comforter clutched in my fist. Who knew, my morning would turn this way? Eshan's actions were truly getting unpredictable for me. With a slow torturous pace, my husband finally accomplished his mission of removing my camisole. My camisole now accompanied my top at my neck.

I watched when Eshan's eyes broke our contact, and they moved across my back. I could only assume that they were now moving over the ugly mark left behind by my father.

I had avoided looking at that mark for very long. It would remind me of that time when I had gotten it, along with the pain and endless cries of help I had made.

Suddenly, everything was getting back at me, and it was not even in my hands. I could feel my mind going back in that zone where I could see my childhood self running away, trying to avoid my father's attack. He had been so scary that evening that his face filled with madness still haunted me. My cheeks had throbbed with the pain because of the slaps he had bestowed upon me, and my legs were on the verge of collapsing because of the belt he had used on them.

My mind conjured those images from my past. It started running like a movie scene before my eyes. My father had picked up the kitchen knife. When I was about the run out of my house, he had jumped across and slashed my back. The place where bare nails had scraped against my skin when he had thrown me across the wall was torn open because of the sharp knife.

He had not cared about the fact that the one he was hurting was his own blood, his child, an innocent, harmless child. He had pounced on me, strangling my neck.

I could feel my body growing cold as I was pulled into that memory. It had been so long that I had recalled that day. Suddenly, it was not memory anymore, but I started feeling pressure on my neck as if he was back. As if my father was strangling me, wanting to push me towards my death. Those red eyes, filled with immense hatred were glaring at me.

"You need to die. I'll kill you. You don't deserve to live." His voice echoed in my ears from that evening of fifteen years ago.

Everything around me disappeared. My eyes went wide as I started choking. I desperately wriggled. I wanted to get out of his reach. I could not breathe. My hands shook as I brought them to my neck to loosen my father's death grip. As if thousands of bugs were crawling on my body, I felt that disgusted.

Tears blinded my vision. I wanted to cry. I wanted to call someone for help, but nothing. I could not make any sound. That helplessness was again making me feel pathetic. I could feel my mind preparing to shut itself. The panic attack had kicked in. I knew it, the worst part was, I could not do anything.

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