“Who is she to you?”

I glanced up from cutting the apple at the kitchen unit to see Stella standing in the doorway. Her pristine, unwrinkled clothes a contradiction to her ruffled annoyance lacing her question.

“Who’s who?” I asked, knowing full well who she meant.

I’d only seen one woman this week and it sure as hell wasn’t Alexa, or my ex-wife for that matter. The pair had been scarce since arriving.

“Where have you been hiding?”

“Cut the crap, Lucca.” She moved further into the kitchen. “The woman at the café. Kinda cosy there, weren’t you?”

Her question irked me. “None of your business, Stella.” I went back to slicing up my apple. “What are you doing here?”

“I want to know who she is to you,” she shouted.

Cue the ever-boring dramatics. I ate a slice of the apple and contemplated how best to answer because really, it was none of her fucking business. I heard her moving behind me, paying no attention. The silence stretched between us as I finished eating then stood to clean up the mess.

“Are you fucking her?”

“When are you leaving?” I didn’t want to get into another drawn out argument with her, but my anger rose at her vulgar nosiness. “You don’t need to be here,” I told her. “In fact, you should leave.”

I circled around and crossed the room to dump the apple core into the waste bin under the sink, noticing she’d moved to the cooker. I slammed the unit door shut, hoping she took the hint that I was beyond irritated.

“So, you are?”

I whirled around, my patience wearing thin and sneered at her. “Just fucking go, Stella.” I knew I was poking a rabid bear, I’d had enough of her shit and was all out of fucks to give. I didn’t need to take it anymore.

“You’re a dick, you know that?”

I nodded, because hell, what else was there to do? In her eyes I was, and a hundred things worse.

“I came here to work things out with you.” Her gaze shifted around the kitchen like she was looking for something. “I thought I’d give you some space after the other night,” she said bashfully, focusing on the floor.

“How kind of you, Stella,” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm from my voice and I watched her wince. “I want you gone, Alexa too. There’s nothing here for you to salvage.”

“A young thing like that...must be after your money, Lucca. It’s all your good for,” she threw at me, changing tactics.

“You’d know.”

Turning my back on her to wash my hands at the sink. A grave mistake. I heard the whoosh before I felt the pain, too slow to dodge her blow. What felt like an iron pan, thudded into the side of my head knocking me sideways, sending me sprawling to the floor.

“What the fuck?” I stammered out, raising my hand to feel for the damage. Warmth trickled down my neck when I pulled my fingers away from the side of my head and took in my blood-soaked hand in shock. “Crazy bitch...” I muttered as the room tilted and my vision swayed.

I slumped all the way to the floor, cool tiles against my back caused me to shiver. I could vaguely hear Stella in the background, her words garbled and muffled. Panic set in and I grappled at the cabinets to haul myself up, only managing a few inches. Slippy hands found no purchase, the slickness of the blood making it impossible.

“Stay down.” Stella growled close to my ear and I froze in place, recognising her cruel tone.

I knew this woman inside out and right about now the stark realisation that she had my life in her hands, sloshed about in my brain. I slid to the floor again, laying in the rapidly spreading blood underneath me. I couldn’t feel around my head, I suddenly grasped I was in big fucking trouble.

Stella knelt next to me, her face coming in and out of focus. “I’ll ask again.” She pointed the tip of a kitchen knife at my cheek. “Who is she to you?”

Thinking straight was impossible, my words stuck in my throat, jumbled in my brain. She slapped at my face, stars spotted behind my eyelids as I slid them closed again.

“Who is she, Lucca?” she screeched.

Blackness closed in and I couldn’t help but fucking laugh. I laughed at the pain, laughed at the irony of it all. I opened my eyes and stared at my ex-wife, my laughing becoming a choke as blood bubbled up my throat. I spurted bright red splotches across her pink silk shirt as warmth flushed through my chest. Errant tears trickled down the sides of my face and leaving everything behind became scarily simple...easy.

The shattering of glass roused my dimmed senses as I tried to peel my heavy eyes open. Through the slow din of noise, I caught a faint sniffle and more glass splintering. My heart beats thudded slower and slower, I couldn’t feel much even though my head thumped over and over in excruciating pain. A wetness seeped under my back and another wave of panic assaulted me. Stella’s feet had stopped beside my head and they weren’t moving. For a moment time stood still as I squinted at blood stained stilettos. I shifted my view upwards, the pain almost unbearable. Her feet became knees, the knees became Stella. I raised my eyes a fraction more and considered hers; soulless and dead. They were beginning to swell, and I comprehended the broken nose she sported. I tried to suck in a breath, struggling, a gurgling noise invading my ears.

Oh God, did I do that? Did I hurt her?

I watched as she fumbled the phone to her ear, bloody fingers smearing the white plastic, distantly catching her trembling voice. “There’s been a break in, my husband’s been stabbed...”

She rambled on and I zoned out trying to make a mental checklist of where I was hurt apart from my chest and my head, my brain too foggy to concentrate. Stella bent over me, phone no longer at her ear, her eyes bright with malice as she pressed her hand over my chest. A sharp pain accompanied her sneer as she gripped the handle of the knife embedded in my torso, pushing slowly onto the metal so I could feel each centimetre of the blade inside me. My vision blurred. Closing my eyes, I dreamed that my nightmare was finally coming to an end. The uncertainty of life had never tasted so bittersweet on my tongue.

* * *

There was a silence I welcomed. Hoping to remain, I embraced the quiet. I felt nothing, heard nothing, saw nothing, thankful for the darkness that had finally claimed me.

Frighteningly peaceful.

But a beauty shone in this dark I was desperately clinging to. Trying to grasp a single, lucid thought seemed pointless.

Serenity washed over me.

Then I heard it. One word...floating around in the obscure space; dangling in front of me, sneaking up behind me. Whispering.

“Fight...”

Just out of reach, teetering around the edges; teasing...flaunting, I couldn’t quite grasp it. I ached to find it, to hold on with all my might.

In the next breath, another husky whisper. Closer...closer still...

Brushing over the back of my hand, the warmth came; a tinge of heat. Yet, no sooner was it there, it was gone again. Like ashes on the wind. Scattering far and wide, out of reach.

Heavy with anticipation, my heart beats slowed. Methodical thuds within my chest counted time...one, two, three...On the fourth murmur, it reappeared and the beats in my chest ached. The tangible sounds, clearer; within reach.

Imaginary tips of fingers grazed along the outer edge. My mouth tasted the ashy residue; chalky, dry. Warmth seeped between flesh and bone, only then did I dare to reach out and grab, floundering to capture my escape.

I held on for dear life.

“FIGHT!”

My breath shuddered and jarred as the words screamed in my head.

“FIGHT!”

Blood rushed through my skull, deafening me. Pain seared across the entirety of my body, the agony burning. Screams punctuated the silence; blood curdling cries that pierced my very soul. Shrieks no longer kept at bay.

“FIGHT!”

Heat surrounded me, whispered words banished the din of the slow rumble. Comfort and safety flourished; enveloping me, reaching into me, pulling me into the now.

The void slipped.

My shouts were frantic, sobs wracked the frailty that was me; quieter than before, no less anguished and still loud enough to be recognised.

“Fight...”

Gentle, warm fingers threaded through mine and a familiar smell tickled at my nose. I was bathed in a love so immense it wrapped itself around my heart; swaddling, making me ache, helping me quiet. Reassuring. I was climbing down, breathing. The tenderness satiating the ever-ebbing panic. The benevolent hand gripped mine tighter and I returned the proffered sentiment. An affirmation. I was here.

“Don’t let go...I’m here.”