The bedroom door clicked behind Bella, shutting out the rest of the house. The hall was still, waiting for the storm to return. Inside, Bella's chest felt trapped in a vise. The memory of her mother's hand, the sting of the slap, and the silence that followed replayed in her mind. She sank onto the edge of the bed, wrapping the blanket around herself like armor. She tried to shrink into the room and escape the tight coil of fear in her chest.
Her suitcase sat half-packed. Clothes littered the floor. The smell of detergent mixed with the sharp tang of anger. Her hands shook as she lifted her phone. Adrian. It had vibrated ten times in five minutes. She ignored him at first. She didn't have the energy for drama. She fought against another swirl of emotion. But curiosity, habit, and unresolved tension made her thumb hover over the call button.
"Bella…" His voice was soft, low, and coaxing. "Hey. Are you okay?"
She swallowed. "I… I'm fine," she whispered, though she knew she wasn't.
"No. Stop lying. I can hear it. You're breaking apart," Adrian said. His tone was teasing but careful. No push. No judgment. Only recognition. Something Bella hadn't felt all evening.
She pressed the phone to her ear, breathing shallowly. "I… I don't know what to do."
"Then do this." His voice turned playful, exaggerated. "Turn on the camera. Face me. Let me see that gorgeous disaster."
Trembling, Bella tapped FaceTime. The screen flickered and came alive with Adrian's face. He wore a paper crown, crooked on his head. Eyebrows high, he looked like a cartoon villain. He bowed.
"You look… ridiculous," she whispered. A smile broke through her tears.
"Ridiculous for you. Always," he said, voice softening. "But I needed you to see me. To see that I'm here. That you're not alone. Okay?"
She wrapped the blanket tighter, tears slipping, and nodded. She didn't know why she trusted him, why she let herself breathe in his presence, but she did.
"Step one complete," Adrian announced. "Now step two: Operation Chaos Clean-Up. I demand to see the battlefield."
Bella laughed, pushing her hair back. "It's a mess."
"Perfect," he said. "Messes are honest. They don't pretend. They tell the truth."
They began. Adrian guided her through picking up clothes, folding sheets, and packing the suitcase. Each task became dramatic, filled with playful commentary and small victories. "A sock mountain? Impossible! How will anyone climb that?" he teased. She laughed despite herself.
She caught herself smiling for the first time that evening. For the first time, someone made her feel safe amid the wreckage. She was still raw, still bruised, but these small gestures let her breathe.
Adrian didn't stop at chores. He pulled her into games and silly challenges to distract her mind. He dared her to act out dramatic soap opera lines in exaggerated accents. He urged her to make ridiculous faces and show them over the camera. They laughed until her sides ached.
Between laughs, Adrian's voice softened. "You know… you're stronger than you think. You've survived worse than this. You've endured—and look at you, still getting up even when it hurts like hell. That's more than most people could do."
"I don't feel strong," she admitted, voice small.
"You are," he insisted. "Strength isn't about never falling. It's about getting up. And you're still standing. Even if it's shaky, even if it's raw, you're here."
Bella leaned back against the pillows, exhausted but lighter. Her phone buzzed again, this time from Chris. She scrolled through messages, reading and rereading. Guilt and affection tugged at her. Adrian's voice and presence kept her anchored.
"Stop scrolling for a minute," Adrian commanded, mock-serious. "Let's play a game. Tell me the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you… I'll go after."
Bella rolled her eyes, laughing. "You're insane."
"Insane for you. Always," he said, teasing and tender.
She told a high school story. She stumbled into the cafeteria with her tray, knocking over milk, causing a domino of chaos. Adrian mimicked her clumsiness, exaggerated, falling onto his couch. She laughed until tears pricked her eyes. For a moment, her earlier pain faded.
When laughter settled, Adrian leaned closer to the camera. "Bella… I know life's been trying to break you tonight. But remember this. Even broken… even in pain… you're still you. And that's enough."
She pressed the blanket to her chest. "It doesn't feel like it's enough," she murmured.
"It is," he said. "For tonight, at least. Let me help you carry the weight. Only for a bit. You don't face it all alone."
The night stretched, cinematic. Adrian kept her busy with FaceTime activities and small tasks. They made tea together. Each step is narrated like a cooking show, each misstep exaggerated into comedy. Bella's laughter grew steady, matching Adrian's energy.
He guided her through breathing exercises when tension rose. He turned her panic into slow, measured inhales and exhales. "Breathe in the air of not giving up," he teased. "Exhale the stress of the day… the week… the chaos that isn't yours to carry."
Bella followed. Her chest unclenched. Her pulse slowed. The room no longer felt like a cage. She could exist without fear.
Adrian forced a mini dance break. "I command you to shake off the universe," he said. Bella hesitated, then moved along with him. Wild, ridiculous movements pushed tension out. She laughed until her throat hurt, hair plastered to her forehead.
Later, exhausted, Adrian's voice softened. "Look, Bella… the world outside can wait. Your mom's anger, her mistakes… those are hers, not yours. Let yourself be okay without fixing it all tonight."
"I… I don't know if I can," she admitted, voice trembling.
"You can," he said. "I'm here. Not to erase the pain. Not to force it away. But to remind you that you're alive, still beautiful, still more than this moment. It's okay to feel everything and still laugh, breathe, and be."
Bella's eyelids drooped. Her body gave in. Her heart still thumped with echoes of her mother's words, but Adrian's tether kept her anchored. "I… I can breathe now," she whispered.
"See? You're still here. That's enough. For tonight, it has to be enough," he said.
She rested against the pillows, phone propped on the nightstand. The world outside remained chaotic. Inside her cocoon of connection, she was safe. Adrian's teasing, insistence on seeing her laugh, and presence had given her a thread of hope. Fragile, but real.
She closed her eyes, whispering, "I promise… I'll try to dream something ridiculous. Something that makes me laugh when I wake up."
"I'll hold you to it," Adrian said, his voice a gentle anchor in the darkness.
As sleep claimed her, Bella untangled from the raw edges of her day. The house outside remained heavy with shadows. Inside, she had a fragile thread of light. She wasn't fixed. She wasn't healed. But she was breathing. And that was enough.