The rain hammered hard against the window. It wasn't just a gentle pitter patter, it pounded and battered, bruising the window with intensity and fury. Carla lay curled up in a ball where he had cruelly flung her. Discarding her when her job was done. She felt used and frightened. Like a little girl lost and far away from home. She tried not to move too much, pain sears through her body every time she does. She closes her eyes, trying desperately to block his disgusting act out but all she can see is him leering in her face.
''It was your fault Carla. You made me do it''
She blinks furiously and pulls herself up, quickly bolting the door, terrified he might return. The silence is deafening making Carla realise how alone she is. For a brief moment she thinks of finding Michelle but the embarrassment of that morning floods her mind and she realises how rude she was to her closest companion.
Instead she grabs her phone, her thumb lingering over his name, dangerously close to pressing the button. In an instant she does, not thinking about the consequences, just that she needs someone here. Someone that can protect her if Frank returns. She almost hangs up but when she hears his husky voice lingering through her phone she feels instantly safer.
''Carla? Carla you there?"
"Peter" Her voice is low and you can hear the hint that she is close to tears, holding them like only Carla can.
"Can you come here, please? I er.. I really need you"
"Gimmie five minutes" His voice is soft and full of worry, Carla hears the click of the phone and breathes a sigh of relief. She pulls her knees up under her chin and wraps her arms around herself. And silently, she allows her broken tears to fall. Only now does she realise how bad she let things get. She wishes she was stronger and that she had fought him off. Especially tonight. A while later a loud tap of the door startles Carla from her thoughts.
She finds herself frozen, unable to move until she hears a voice from the other side. ''Carla, let me in love''
Carla moved from her spot on the floor and unhooked the latch, allowing the person on the other side access. She quickly sinks back into her seat, hiding herself from the world.
Peter steps into her flat, his eyes instantly falling upon the broken woman curled up on the floor of her flat, she looks into his eyes, and he sees the fear, the regret, the disgust. But most of all the self hatred. He is quick to notice the smashed vases and photos, the glass that scatters the floor, the red seeping from her cut hands. He knows what's happened here and he knows who is responsible.
He curses himself a thousand times over for not stepping in sooner, for not convincing her to leave him earlier, for not making her see that she was worth so much more. Especially to him. He had realised he'd fallen in love with her a long time ago, but he pretended to everyone, even himself. And now she'd suffered the ultimate price for his cowardice, and he would spend the rest of his life trying to make it up to her.
He steps closer to her and kneels against the cold hard floor, Peter gently reaches his hand to cup her cheek without saying a word, but she flinches away. Carla fights an inner battle with herself, with the desperate longing to be held but the fear of being touched.
''Carla, it's me, it's me love''
Carla's eyes meet his again, confused and terrified ''Peter?'' She whispers, like she is asking for confirmation of something she already knows. He nods his head softly knowing she craves the reassurance and as soon as he does Carla allows her self to fall into his embrace, and he wraps his arms around her. She feels safer but not safe. But at least for now, she is not alone.