And It’s not just someone - my mind screams - not just anyone.

Turning around quickly, I search the drawer frantically as I hear the spark of a match. My heart rate spikes. My breathing becomes rapid and shaky. My palms sweat as I toss aside paper, letters, scraps of notes I haven’t bothered to look at in years. The smell of tobacco is strong as boot steps echo through the room behind me. The sound disturbingly louder than the storm raging outside as it pounds in my ears. My hands search faster. Left to right, front to back, all around the inside of the drawer, but it’s no use.

It was never any use fighting the inevitable. Fighting him.

Finally, my fingers brush across cold metal. I tighten my grip on the make-shift weapon just as an arm snakes around my waist, a hand reaches up tightening against my throat, and the letter opener slips through my fingertips.

He pulls me back tight against his chest as I hear my only defense clatter to the floor. I gasp for air, but it doesn’t come fast enough. He tightens his palm letting me know who is in control — who was always in control - before loosening his grip ever so slightly and pulling me closer against his firm frame. He steps back swiftly, making my feet stumble as I try to match his large strides. Just as I start to tumble, just as I swear I am about to fall, his strong grip around my waist keeps me upright, keeps me grounded, anchored to a fate I hate to admit I always dreamed I’d one day meet. I fight the war of conflicting emotions inside me. The heartache, happiness, despair. I claw at his hands desperately, attempting to break free and feel his light chuckle feather across my neck.

“Darling,” he breathes in my ear, my skin instantly tingles from the sound of his voice after so many years. “You always were a hard one to fucking tame.”

The sound of his voice instantly paralyzes me. I stop fighting, and he loosens the grip on my waist, bringing his smoke up to his mouth and taking a long drag.

I still don’t move. Don’t speak. I couldn’t even if I tried.

He hooks me to him. The hold he has around my neck is strong, crippling, as he takes another inhale of his smoke. I wait in a sweet sort of agony, desperate to hear his voice say my name one more time.

Please. That’s all I want after all the years. After all the time he’s forced us to be apart. Just to hear my name fall from his sinful lips.