Escape

The next morning, Delia woke up screaming, gasping for breath. Her heart was pounding and a shiver ran through her body. She opened her eyes with difficulty, but all she saw was darkness, drawing closer with every breath.

Jo, instantly awakened by her scream, quickly turned to her and, seeing her in such a state, asked in panic:

"Delia, what happened? Are you okay?"

His voice was full of worry. He grabbed her hand, trying to calm her down, but Delia still couldn't calm down. Her eyes were empty, and her breathing was ragged.

"It… it was a nightmare," she finally breathed out, struggling to find the words. "I… I killed you, Jo. I… I don't know what it was, but I… killed you. It was so real, so scary…"

She couldn't even finish the sentence, her voice was treacherous with panic. Jo froze for a moment, and then slowly leaned towards her, carefully placing his hand on her shoulder.

"It's just a nightmare, Delia," he said softly, "you didn't do anything. You didn't kill me, it was just a dream. You know how often dreams are scary, but they don't come true.

Delia looked at him, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was really going to happen. She gripped his hand tighter, unable to overcome her anxiety.

"But what if this is a sign of something bad?" Her voice was shaking. "I don't want this to happen. I can't… I can't let this happen, Jo. I'm afraid that if I keep thinking like this, it might become reality. I… I can't handle this fear."

Jo, seeing her face distorted with worry, tried to calm her down by hugging her.

"Listen to me," he said with certainty, "it was just a nightmare, nothing more. Don't let yourself think that. I'm here, and we'll be fine. You won't do anything like that, you can't. We're together, and I won't leave you.

Delia tried to exhale, but her heart still couldn't calm down. She looked into his eyes for a long time, trying to find comfort in his words, but the shadow of fear still didn't leave her.

"Do you promise?" she asked barely audibly.

"I promise," Jo said, and there was such sincerity in his voice that, despite her fear, she felt the oppressive darkness that had hung in her soul recede a little.

After Jo calmed Delia down, they decided to relax a bit and clean themselves up. Together they went into the bathroom, and Delia allowed herself to forget about her fears for a while, feeling the water running down her skin, taking her worries away, at least for a while.

They stood there in silence, and then Delia, trying not to look at Jo, finally broke the silence:

"I don't know what to do next. It seems to me that everything is too hard, that I won't be able to bear it. I just want to drop everything and run away somewhere, forget myself... Put this heavy burden on myself, forget everything. Just leave, so as not to think about it anymore."

Her voice was shaking, and despite her best efforts to hide her thoughts, they still came out. In this state, she felt more vulnerable than ever.

Jo looked at her, despite the drops of water running down his face, and sighed heavily. He realized that she was worried not only about the nightmare, but about everything that was happening in her life.

"Delia," he said quietly, but firmly. "You don't have to run away. We can get through this together. Let's just get through these last few rehearsals, play the premiere, and then when it's over, we'll just go away. We'll go somewhere where no one will bother us. I love you, and I don't want you to run away from this. All you have to do is get through this now, and then… we'll be together. Nothing else matters."

His words were full of confidence, and despite her doubts, deep down Delia felt his faith in her beginning to ease her worries a little. She looked at him, and a small spark of hope appeared in her eyes.

"Do you really want this?" she asked with quiet uncertainty, almost a whisper.

"I want this more than anything," Jo replied, not taking his eyes off her. "You and I, we've been through a lot. But if we stay close, everything will be okay. Do you believe me?"

She was silent for a long time, listening to his words, and although her heart was still full of doubts, at that moment she felt her view of the future become a little clearer.

"I believe you," she finally whispered, and a weak smile appeared on her face.

Under the streams of hot water they embraced, and the warm curtain of water seemed to hide them from the whole world. Jo gently pressed her to himself, and at that moment she felt his heart beating next to her own. They looked at each other, and in his eyes she saw that very sincerity that she had so lacked in recent days.

Delia couldn't completely shake off the thought that the nightmare she had experienced might not have been just a dream. The fear that remained in her soul felt like something alive, like some kind of animal tormenting her from within, wrapping itself around her thoughts, making her doubt and fear.

But when Jo leaned down to her face and kissed her, she forgot everything for a moment. He was there, close, and his touch brought her such a comforting warmth that her fear began to recede, as if with each kiss it lost its power. Her lips responded to his, and the world around her grew dim.

Everything she felt was tied to this moment. She tried to push the nightmare out of her head, trying not to think about what had happened in her dream. It was just a dream, and she shouldn't let it ruin what was here and now.

Her arms began to seek him out, wrapping around his body, and all her fears began to melt, to dissolve in this kiss. Jo was her anchor, her salvation from all those dark thoughts that tormented her soul. His touch was so real, and his love was so sure. He pulled away slightly and, looking into her eyes, said quietly:

"Delia, I love you!"

The words seemed to fill the room. They were so simple, yet so incredibly important, as if their meaning could change everything. Jo said it sincerely, with such feeling that his eyes lit up and his voice trembled with emotion.

But in response to his words, Delia froze. Something inside her snapped. Her heart began to pound harder, not from happiness, but from some strange feeling. She blinked, feeling her breath catch in her throat with emotion, but instead of responding with joy, a shadow of uncertainty flickered in her eyes.

"I..." she wanted to say something, but the words couldn't come out.

She looked at Jo, at his sincere face, and suddenly felt her own soul pulling her into some dark abyss. She felt that she did not deserve his love, that there had been too many mistakes in her life, moments of weakness and fear, for someone like Jo to truly love her.

"You mustn't think that," Jo said suddenly, seeing her confusion. His face was serious, but his hand touched her cheek gently. "You deserve all this, Delia. You're special."

But she couldn't push the thoughts away. All she felt was a crushing weight. She didn't believe she could be worthy of such love. It was too much. And as much as she wanted to believe those words, there was that small, anxious part of her that whispered she didn't deserve to be happy.

"I... I don't know..." she said barely audibly, not realizing how her voice was shaking. "You shouldn't think of me like that... I... I'm not who you see me as."

She felt tears welling up in her eyes and quickly looked away, afraid that her weakness would be visible. At that moment, her body seemed to shrink and she took a sharp step back. It was not anger, but rather a sudden rush of fear that overwhelmed her. Jo looked at her, not understanding what was happening, but there was such desperate confusion in her eyes that he froze before he could approach. His face expressed complete bewilderment, he did not know what to do.

"Delia?" he said quietly, taking a step closer, but she, as if not hearing him, quickly turned and ran into the bedroom.

Walking across the floor with quick steps, she felt her heart pounding with terror. Everything was mixed up in her head - her fear, her doubts, her guilt. She couldn't stay near him, couldn't look calmly into his eyes.

In the bedroom, she quickly closed the door behind her and leaned against it, wrapping her arms around her neck. Her breathing was shallow and her thoughts were racing. She felt like her world was crumbling, like everything she had built was losing its footing. But now she had to pull herself together, she had to get dressed, she had to be strong. She began frantically searching for clothes, not noticing how her hands were shaking.

Soon she was dressed and standing in front of the mirror, holding a comb in her hands. Her gaze was fixed on her reflection, but she could barely see herself. Her thoughts were returning again to the nightmare that had shaken her so much. As soon as she began to carefully comb her hair, trying to focus on something simple and familiar, questions arose in her head that had no answers. Why couldn't she just be happy? Why did every step next to Jo seem so heavy?

At that moment there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she replied, trying to sound confident, but actually feeling her hands begin to shake.

The door opened quietly and Jo walked into the room. His face was softly worried and his steps were careful, as if he didn't know how to approach. He paused at the threshold, watching her silently.

"Delia," he finally said, his voice warm, "you must not be afraid. You must not be afraid of our marriage.

His words sounded like relief, but she couldn't understand what he meant. A strained, almost imperceptible, but sincere answer appeared on her lips:

"But I... can't understand what will happen next. We are all so... vulnerable. We can't be sure that everything will be as we imagine."

Jo walked up to her quietly, his eyes full of concern, and he gently placed his hand on her shoulder. Delia felt his warmth, but the fear inside her did not leave her.

"We'll get through this, Delia," he said, his voice confident but gentle, "don't be afraid. Everything will be fine if we're together. You and I are strong, and everything else... we'll get through it."

Delia looked at him, his eyes filled with the loyalty she needed, but her chest was still heavy. He couldn't understand how deeply she doubted herself. But despite that, her heart suddenly tightened, and she felt her confusion lift a little, though not completely.

"I... I'm not sure, Jo. I'm afraid... that I can't be what you're waiting for. What if I can't handle it?"

Without letting her out of his sight, he quietly said:

"You're already coping. We're together, and that's the most important thing. Your doubts... they're just fear. But you can cope with them if you keep moving forward. We'll keep going, and it doesn't matter how many steps we need to take. The most important thing is us."

Delia closed her eyes, but she couldn't hide what was happening inside her. The tension that had been bottled up for so long suddenly burst out. Her hands began to shake and her chest tightened with panic. Tears began to stream down her cheeks, she could barely breathe, and a feeling of helplessness washed over her.

"Jo..." Her voice broke and she could barely hold back her sobs. "I can't, I can't! I'm scared! I'm scared of being with you, I'm scared of not being with you, I'm scared..." She fell silent, her voice broke off, and her body literally shook with pain that found no outlet.

Jo, seeing her condition, immediately came closer, not letting her go. He raised her hands and carefully took them in his, as if trying to find some kind of contact that could restore her peace.

"Delia, listen to me," his voice was firm, but not cruel. "You have to understand that I'm here for you. You're not alone. And I don't want you to think that you can't do this. You will, because you're strong, and you can overcome anything. You're not in this alone.

Delia flinched as his words touched her, but it only made her emotions worse. She began to lose control again, tears poured from her eyes, she couldn't stop, and it was so hard to breathe, as if all the air was disappearing.

"I can't… I can't be who you want," she breathed out, her voice filled with pain and despair. "I can't be your perfect girlfriend, I can't be the woman you deserve. I'm afraid I'll only disappoint you!"

But Jo didn't back down. He didn't let go of her hands, he continued to look into her eyes, his gaze was full of confidence and love.

"You won't disappoint me, Delia, because you're already everything I need," he said softly but insistently. "I'm not asking you to be someone else. I'm asking you to be yourself. We'll walk together, step by step. Everything will be okay. I promise."

He tried to calm her down again, hugging her, but she continued to tremble, as if her soul could not find peace. Jo, seeing that Delia was not calming down, sighed quietly and pulled away. His face became more serious, and his eyes reflected a slight reproach. He did not know how else to help her, how else to comfort her when she was absorbed in her thoughts and fears.

"We're late," he said, his voice reserved but still a note of concern. "I don't want either of us to waste time worrying. I can have breakfast during the break, don't worry."

He glanced at her again, but instead of continuing the argument, he turned slowly and walked toward the door. As his footsteps receded, Delia felt even more despair begin to rise inside her. She couldn't bring herself to follow him, couldn't even speak. She stood there, paralyzed, unsure of what to do next.

Jo froze on the threshold and turned around:

"You'll be fine, Delia, you know I'm here. But we have to go, we can't be late."

He looked at her again with an expression of gentle insistence, but without waiting for an answer, he left the room.

The door closed quietly behind him, and Delia was alone. Her heart was beating faster and faster, and her thoughts were becoming more and more confused. She stood there, leaning against the table, feeling her hands growing cold, staring into space. All her thoughts were confused. She couldn't make herself eat, couldn't make herself feel normal. After Jo left, leaving her alone with her worries, Delia felt like she just didn't have the strength to go on.

She hesitated, then quickly walked into the hallway, grabbed her bag and, without thinking, left the apartment. There were many questions in her head, but no answers. She couldn't just sit here and wait for everything to work out on its own.

The air outside was crisp, but Delia could feel the cold seeping into her bones. She walked quickly down the street, barely paying attention to her surroundings. Her heart was beating faster, but she couldn't stop.

A few minutes later she caught up with Jo, who, like her, had already left the apartment. He walked silently, as if he knew she would still be there. He did not turn around, but her presence next to him was obvious to him. Delia did not say a word, just walked beside him, feeling how their steps merged into one.

So they walked silently towards the orchestra building. When they had already approached the entrance, the grey-haired bandmaster came out towards them. Without waiting for them to come closer, he spoke.

"Delia," he said, stopping them and addressing her in his usual businesslike tone, "why is Jerome absent from rehearsal for the second day? We have a premiere coming up, we need everyone in their place. This is no joke."

Delia immediately felt the tension in the air. She opened her mouth to reply, but Jo interrupted her. He took a step forward, his gaze determined, his voice a little louder than usual.

"How dare you ask my fiancée such questions?!" he said, not hiding his excitement and irritation.

There was something defensive and insistent in his words. He looked at the bandmaster with a slight challenge, as if everything that concerned Delia became sacrosanct for him. The bandmaster froze a little in surprise, his face tightened slightly, and his eyes became even more appraising. He raised his eyebrows slightly, but did not say anything right away. Only after a short pause did he answer, more reservedly:

"Jo, I understand your concern, but as the director, it is my responsibility to oversee the rehearsal process. I just wanted to find out where Jerome was. After all, you know that rehearsals cannot proceed without him, especially in light of the upcoming premiere."

Jo didn't back down and looked at the bandmaster again with the same firm expression on his face.

"Well, Bandmaster, look at the situation from the other side. Perhaps, instead of disturbing Delia, you should get down to business and not disturb her over trifles?" Jo added defiantly. "I'm sure she's not obliged to explain where Jerome is, especially if it's none of her business."

The bandmaster looked at Jo for a few seconds, assessing his reaction. His face became more neutral, but a shadow of displeasure flickered in his eyes.

"I'm just concerned about our team," he said finally. "I'm not questioning your ability to conduct yourself with dignity, Jo, if that's the case. But remember, we all have a role to play here, and we all have to work as a unit."

The bandmaster's tone became somewhat softer, but still retained a certain severity. Jo, feeling that further discussion was pointless, nodded silently, without answering these words.

Delia stood there, feeling a cold wave of fear rising inside her. Her gaze flickered to the bandmaster, who seemed oblivious to her inner struggle, increasingly focused on Jo. But other thoughts were running through her mind. If it were discovered that Jerome was missing because of her interference, if everyone found out that she had been the one who had thrown him out, she could, of course, justify herself by saying that he had provoked her, but that did not matter. The main thing was that she could stay out of it all, wait it out quietly, and not let her anger control her.

What if she was kicked out of the orchestra? She couldn't allow herself to think about it, but it crept into her mind like hidden shadows. There was so little time left until the premiere. If she was kicked out of the orchestra at this moment, that would be it - she would never get the chance to play at this historic premiere. Her place would be taken by someone else, and she would be back on the street. Back in the dorm, empty-handed and unappreciated, a nobody again.

Her heart sank, and she felt an unbearable fear growing inside her. Fear that Jerome would not be forgiven, that she would not be forgiven either. If the truth of what had happened came out, she would be found guilty, and the consequences could be fatal. Things would never be the same again, the stability she had tried to build would be gone. Everything she had wanted-to be part of this orchestra, to be with Jo, to be happy-was suddenly crumbling.

She took a step back, though she didn't realize it. A confused, almost helpless expression came into her eyes, and she tried to pull herself together, but she couldn't. When her gaze met the bandmaster's again, she knew she had to say something, she had to get out of this situation before her silence began to speak for her. But the words she wanted to say seemed to get stuck in her throat.

"You can't end up like this," Delia reminded herself, but the feeling of everything falling apart continued to torment her.