“Breathe baby, breathe, Respirare bambino, respirare. In through your nose, not through your mouth, in through your nose, out through your mouth”
He's rubbing my back and breathing with me, showing me what I need to do, he stays so calm, talking to me in Italian and English, I match my breathing to his, and after a few minutes the panic begins to subside. But now that I can get my breath, I start to make this god awful sobbing noise, it doesn’t sound like it’s coming from me. I sit up and just focus on getting air into my lungs and once my breathing slows, he leaves me and goes into the bathroom coming back with some towels and a glass of water, I rinse my mouth and climb back into bed, turn on my side and curl up in a ball, exhausted. That was beyond awful. I have had anxiety attacks before when my dad died but never anything like this.
Gabe just throws the towels to cover where I have vomited; it’s mainly bile so it doesn't really smell of anything. He gets back into bed beside me and just holds me tight again, kissing and stroking my hair, whispering to me in Italian, telling me that he’s got me, that he’s always got me, soothing me. We must lie like this for half an hour until I feel myself begin to relax.
“What happened Lauren, what did he do? Please tell me, I'm going out of my fucking mind here, imagining all sorts, please tell me, please talk to me, don't shut me out, I need to know”
I turn around and look him, I reach out my hand and hold it against his face and as I blink a tear rolls down my cheek and onto the pillow, then from my other eye, another tear rolls over my nose and drips onto the pillow, he kisses them both away and locks me with his gaze, his eyes are steely blue and I can feel the tension rippling through him, radiating out of him.
“Please, if you tell me, I promise you won't have to talk about it again, I promise, not the police, nobody but I need to know”
Oh god, I don't want to do this, I really do not want to talk about it, but I know I have to tell him, give him the details. I'm not sure if I'm putting him out of his misery, or making things worse, perhaps by talking things will seem a little better. I close my eyes and lick my dry lips.
“I saw your wallet and thought it was you banging at the door, that you had come back for it, so I went to open the door but he kicked it and the force made me stagger backwards, then he hit me, right under my chin with the back of his hand I think and that knocked me to the floor and I cracked my head. I kept trying to get up but I was seeing stars and my legs just wouldn't work, then he was standing over me, just ranting, he was so angry, he was so angry Gabe, he was frothing at the mouth, he said I was his, I would always be his and just so me and you would never forget, he was leaving something to remind us, every time you breathe in the air around me, he said, he said he wants you to be reminded of him and for you to remember that I am his” I’m almost choking on my words, I’m struggling to get them out and air in, my tears are flowing and my nose is running and he’s there, crying right along with me, I take in a deep breath and continue “then, then he pissed all over me Gabe. He pissed over my head, my hair and my body. How could he? He loved me once, how can you do that to someone you once loved? I'm still his wife, we have children, babies, I carried his babies inside me, how could he do that to me?” I can't hold it together any more, I am talking through great heaving, racking, sobs, I just let the tears flow and I can barely breathe.
“While I was down, lying on the floor, he pissed over me, like I was some kind of fucking animal, like I was just nothing”
I close my eyes and draw in deep breaths, when I open them, the pain in his eyes nearly kills me, the tears are rolling down his cheeks as he sobs.
“Fuck Lauren, fuck, I am so sorry, this is all my fault, if I hadn't of called him, if I hadn't of left my wallet behind, none of this would have happened, I just can't believe it. What sort of person does that? I want you to press every charge you can on him, he can't get away with this, he is seriously fucked in the head, and he’s fucking dangerous”
I can't begin to even consider that and panic begins to set in again.
“No, no, you said I wouldn't have to speak about it again, if I press charges, I will have to talk about it, I can’t, I can't, tell people, I don't want people to know what he did”
My voice is getting higher as hysteria rises in me.
“Okay, okay, shush, shush it’s okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, let's not talk about it now, will you eat something if I make it for you?”
I really do not feel like food but I know he's not going to take no for an answer, the buzzer goes for the gates and Gabe gets up to answer it and buzz whoever it is in. I hear him talking downstairs to someone, and then it goes again. Jemma walks in. She says absolutely nothing, she just climbs into bed next to me and hugs me and we both have a cry.