The room was suffocatingly quiet. The tension between us seemed palpable at that moment.

"Are you alright?" Milo asked softly.

"I'm fine," I mumbled, obviously lying. I paused, addressing a question at mind, "Why did you help me? I don't deserve your help...I've been nothing but trouble to you for months."

Milo sighed, "Isa, if I see someone in trouble, I'm not going to just leave them there. It doesn't matter if I like them or not. And you're still my best friend, no matter what. You never wanted this to happen and I know that." His eyes were focused on mine. I wanted to look away, but I knew if I did I would end up crying. I didn't want to break, but I wasn't ready to feel everything yet. I wanted to seem stronger than I was, but I wasn't sure just how much longer I could keep it up. The lump in my throat grew and my eyes stung from being on the verge of tears. I could tell he knew and I hated it, I hated letting anyone see me as weak. He gently brushed his thumb below my bruised cheek, examining the cut. "It's okay to feel pain, you know. It's okay to cry. I know he meant a lot to you and he should have never done this to you, I'm sorry."

"Well, I don't agree," I snapped more harshly than I intended to before breaking into tears. "I'm sorry, Milo," I apologized, my voice cracking.

I felt a pair of arms wrap around me as I let the tears spill from my eyes, burying my face in Milo's chest. How do you react when you just barely escape a fight – a fight against someone you thought loved you? Maybe he did love me - in his own twisted, obsessive way. But what did I do to deserve his wrath? Why me? I realized at that moment, held in Milo's arms, I felt safer than I had in years.

~•~

"Are you excited to meet a new friend, Isabella?" Mommy asked. "We thought you two might like to play while Sarah is over."

The doorbell rang and Mommy opened the door, revealing her friend, Ms. Sarah, and a boy about my age. He had curly, chocolate brown hair splayed all over his head and a playful smile on his face. He wore dark wash jeans with a Pokémon t-shirt.

"Hi, Isabella. This is my son, Milo," Ms. Sarah introduced. She nudged her son forward.

"Hi," Milo mumbled shyly.

"Hi."

"Do you two want to watch The Incredibles? We can make popcorn too," Mommy offered with a smile.

I jumped up and down, and Milo joined. "Yes!"

"Please!" we shouted together.

~•~

When you wake up each morning, there is a moment of temporary bliss, lasting a few seconds at most. Your thoughts are quiet and there's nothing to worry about. It's a fresh start. Then, your brain wakes up and your thoughts start racing again. You remember. Pulling yourself out of bed becomes the hardest part, you want to pull the covers over your head and make it all go away, but you know you can't. Going back to sleep solves nothing, it only delays the inevitable.

Reluctantly, I slid out of bed. Standing up, I noticed I was in the same clothes I was wearing yesterday: dark wash skinny jeans and a red blouse - Adrian's favorite color on me. Tearing off the shirt, I put on one of Milo's sweatshirts that were hanging over the back of his desk chair. Following the sounds coming from the kitchen, I found Milo in front of the stove, his back facing me. I sat on one of the barstools.

"How did you sleep?"

"Good."

Turning around, he put a plate in front of me and sat down next to me with his own. Chocolate chip pancakes - my favorite. I haven't had chocolate chip pancakes in years. Adrian never let me have them. He would say that they are unhealthy and that I needed to take better care of myself. I pick at them.

Milo took the hint and didn't try to talk to me anymore. I could tell he was itching to ask me how I was feeling or something to that extent. He kept glancing at me with a worried look as if I was going to explode into tears at any moment. I didn't have any more tears in me though. I was lost, heartbroken, angry, scared, and overwhelmed – I felt everything and nothing at the same time.

~•~

My Introduction to Psychology class was one of the few classes Milo and I didn't have together. He told me that he already knew enough about crazy people from his family and that was enough for him. I laughed and told him that that's not what psychology is, but didn't push him on it.

Being paranoid about getting lost and being late on the first day of class, I left twenty minutes before class, even though it turns out the lecture hall was only five minutes from my dorm. I sat in one of the seats near the door and waited for class to start.

"Good morning, class," the professor started. He was young – for some reason, I always imagined college professors to be old and wrinkly with gray hair – and wore black dress pants and a pale blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. "Welcome to Intro to Psychology. I'm going to ask you all to do something I know you'll hate, but please humor me. I want you to turn to whoever is closest to you and introduce yourself and tell them one thing about yourself. It can be anything you want. Alright? Go!"

A boy with dirty blond hair wearing a red hoodie turned to me and gave me a friendly smile. "I'm Adrian."

"I'm Isabella."

"Well, ladies first, Bella," he chuckled.

"Bella?"

"Yeah, I think it suits you."

"Okay." I gave a small laugh, shrugging. He seemed intent on calling me that and I didn't really mind. "Um, I'm a dog person, I guess."

"I think you're very beautiful, Bella."

"W-what?" I stumbled over the word, flustered. No one had ever outright complimented me like that. "That's not a fact about you."

"It is a fact that I think you're very beautiful, so yes, it does count," he smirked, winking playfully.

My face was surely a red as a tomato by now. Luckily, the professor started speaking again and I pointedly turned around, facing the front of the room. I felt a finger poke me. I knew it was Adrian. He poked me again. Again. Again-

"What?" I hissed, snapping my head back to him.

He held his hands up in surrender, an amused smile on his face. "Would you like to hang out later?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "Pretty please?" he added, hopeful.

Well, I do want to make friends and he seems fun. "Okay."

~•~

"Do you have a toothbrush I can use?"

Milo dug around under the sink and produced an individually packaged blue toothbrush that looked to be from the dentist's office. "Here," he murmured, handing it to me.

"Thanks," I mumbled. He hesitated, debating whether or not to say what he wanted to next. "Say it," I demanded.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself. "We're going to need to get your stuff at some point."

"What am I going to do with it? I have nowhere to stay now."

"You can stay here."

"No, I can't do that. You've already done so much, I don't know how I can repay you. And what about your roommate?"

Milo shushed me, "Don't worry about repaying me. And my roommate will be fine. He's never here anyway, he's always staying at his girlfriend's apartment."

At the mention of his roommate's relationship, my thoughts drifted to my relationship with Adrian. How did I end up with the crazy one? Of all the fish in the sea, I found the bad one. Don't get me wrong, he wasn't always bad. He was actually quite sweet – when he wanted to be, that is.

~•~

I emerged from my room in a red cocktail dress, my hair curled, and my makeup minimal. Adrian wouldn't tell me where we were going, only that it was fancy and, with a wink, that red was a good color on me.

Adrian looked me over, speechless for a moment. "You look gorgeous, Bella," he breathed, giving me a kiss.

I looked at what he was wearing: black dress pants, a dark gray button-up, and a red tie that matched my dress. "You don't look too bad yourself," I joked. He looked at me with a blank face, the amusement in his eyes and the slight upturn of the corners of his lips giving him away. I laughed and he soon gave up the charade and joined.

"Come on, we have reservations for six."

I watched where we were going as Adrian drove. I could tell we were going downtown, an area with lots of upscale restaurants and stores. Adrian parked in a parking deck and led me into a building. In the elevator, he chose the top floor.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a restaurant – a very fancy one. The tables had white tablecloths on them, the lighting was dim, and there was a live pianist playing a grand piano in the far corner. Two adjacent walls were entirely composed of glass, giving the customers a view of the city as they dined.

"It's beautiful," I gasped.

"Happy two-year anniversary, Bella," Adrian said into my ear.

~•~

I was sitting on the couch, staring at the TV when Milo came in and stood in front of it. He had a picnic basket in his hand. "Get up, we're going on a picnic."

I gave him a blank look. "A picnic?"

"Yes, a picnic. You do know what a picnic is, right?" he mocked.

"Yes!" I said a little loudly, indignant.

"Good," he replied with a wide grin, ignoring my glare. He turned and walked to the door of the apartment, looking at me expectantly.

I sighed, knowing he was not going to take no for an answer. I put on my shoes and walked over. He led us to his car and drove us to a park on the other side of town.

When we got there, Milo led us to a secluded area of the park with lots of trees and lush grass. He sat down and pulled out a ham and cheese sandwich for me, a turkey and cheese sandwich for himself, a bottle of Coke, and a big bag of potato chips – what we used to eat as children whenever we were at each other's house. I smiled a bit at the nostalgic gesture. Milo and I practically grew up together. I could barely remember a time in my life when I didn't know him. We told each other everything: from what we got on the spelling test in second grade, to who we liked in eleventh grade. We even made sure to go to the same college. We were inseparable. Best friends forever.

~•~

"Are you ready, Isa?" Milo asked dramatically.

"I was born ready," I replied with a look of determination.

We laughed. We were doing one of our favorite things: movie hopping, as we called it. We weren't sure if there was really a name for it, so we gave it our own. We figured out when we were younger that once the moody teenager near the door of the theater checked your tickets, there was no way for the workers to keep track of whether you actually go to only the movie you paid for. As long as we stay on the same side of the theater once the first movie is over, we can see whichever movie we want without them even noticing that we're still here.

"So, when do I get to meet this elusive boyfriend that you supposedly have?" Milo questioned, putting a piece of popcorn in his mouth.

"Eventually. Have patience – patience is a virtue," I teased.

"Mmhmm. I'm convinced you're making him up. I mean it's been what - two years? How long do you plan on keeping this up, Isa?"

"I'm not making him up!" I said defensively. "He's just – "

"Just what?"

"He doesn't like me being around other guys. Whenever I have a project or something with a guy, he gets all weird."

Milo glanced away from his popcorn to me. "Weird how?"

"I don't know how to explain it. He gets – like – possessive, I guess. I'm not even interested in anyone else! Why would I be when we've been dating for over two years?"

"Have you told him that?"

"Multiple times."

"And?"

"He says sorry, but he still does it." I shrugged. "I guess he doesn't want any guys getting the wrong idea."

It looked like Milo wanted to say something, but he was cut off by the lights dimming, signaling the start of the trailers and, subsequently, the movie. He settled for whispering his response, "As long as he treats you right."

~•~

We stayed at the park even after we finished eating. We didn't talk much, just sat against a tree with me leaning on Milo's shoulder. I think Milo understood that I didn't want to talk about it. We just sat there and enjoyed the serenity of nature - the feeling of the slight breeze, the shapes the shadows the trees cast, the sounds of the birds calling to each other.

"Are you going to tell your parents?" Milo asked suddenly.

"I don't know," I replied after a moment. "To be honest, I haven't even thought of them since last night."

"You don't have to if you're not ready to, you know."

"I know, but they're going to start asking questions. They always ask about him when we FaceTime on Sunday nights." I paused for a moment. "They've asked about you too," I added, feeling guilty again.

"Hey," he said, turning to face me. "We went over this. I'm not mad at you, Isa. I forgive you." He paused, thinking for a moment. "'God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.'"

"Isn't that an AA thing? I'm not an alcoholic," I snickered.

He laughed with me. "I'm saying you can't change what's already happened, but you can change how you move on from it."

~•~

I unlocked the door to our apartment to find Adrian sitting on the couch. "You're back early. I thought your classes on Mondays ended at three."

"My professor ended class early."

His tone was short, clipped. Today was not a good day. "Oh, that's nice, especially on a Monday, right?" I commented, sitting next to him and taking my homework out of my bag.

He nodded and hummed in agreement. "How were the movies with your friends yesterday, Isa?" he asked casually.

"Good. We saw –" I stopped in the middle of my sentence. What did Adrian just call me? I turned my focus from my books to Adrian, worry and a bit of fear flooding my system. Did he know? "Isa?" I repeated, turning my attention to him.

"How was your friend? Milo, I think it was?" He kept his tone light and casual, but his eyes were challenging me, daring me to defy him. I swallowed and clasped my hands between my thighs, trying to keep myself from shaking. I knew I had made him mad.

"H-how do you know Milo?'' I stuttered, inwardly cringing. Way to make it obvious, Isabella.

"A little birdie told me," Adrian replied off-handedly, shrugging. "Remember what I said about hanging out with other guys, Bella? That includes Milo."

"Why won't you let me have any guy friends? This is ridiculous, don't you trust me?"

"Because you're mine. And I don't like sharing."

~•~

The next day was Sunday. My parents FaceTime called me around seven in the evening.

"Hi Isabella!" my mom shouted at her phone.

I smiled in amusement. "Mom, you don't have to shout at the phone. I can hear you."

"Oh, right. Sorry, I forgot," she said at a normal volume. "Anyway, how are you? Where are you? That doesn't look like your apartment in the background," she asked, bringing her phone closer to see, giving me a view of only half her face.

"Mom, back it up." She quickly moved her phone back. "And I'm good. I'm at Milo's."

"Oh really? How is he? You haven't seen him in a while, haven't you?"

I turned my phone toward Milo, who was sitting next to me. "I'm good, thank you, Mrs. Sage," Milo answered, waving at her.

"Please stop calling me that, you're making me feel older than I am," my mom joked. "So, tell me what's happening. How's Adrian?"

I tensed. "He's, uh, good," I said after a moment.

~•~

Adrian has been suffocating me. He won't let me go anywhere unless he knows who I'm going with, the address of where we're going, what time I'll get there, what we'll be doing there, and what time I'm leaving. I haven't seen Milo in four months. I tried texting him, but Adrian found out when he checked my phone while he thought I wasn't watching.

Most days were good, but I still worried that I was going to say or do something that Adrian didn't like. Some days Adrian comes back from class or from work in a bad mood and it seems like he gets mad at everything. One day, he got mad at me for overcooking his steak. He threw his fork at me, called me incompetent, threw away the entire steak, and didn't eat dinner. The only reason I haven't left him is because I'm scared of what he would do if I tried.

I was in the produce section looking at apples when I heard a familiar voice. "Isa?" I snapped my head up and looked around in confusion. Then, my eyes landed on a familiar face. "Isa," Milo gasped. He half-sprinted to me and wrapped me in a hug, pinning my arms to my body. I winced out of pain at the pressure, but he didn't seem to notice. "Where have you been? I haven't seen you since the beginning of the semester and we don't have any classes together this semester and you won't answer any of my texts or calls. It's like you've been avoiding me. Did I do something?"

Guilty, I looked away and brought my hand up to my bicep, rubbing it. "Are you mad at me?"

"What? Why would I be mad at you? I was worried about you. It's not like you to just drop off the face of the Earth like that." He looked down at my hand rubbing my arm. "Are you okay?" His eyebrows scrunched up.

"I'm fine, and it wasn't exactly my choice. I'm not even supposed to be talking to you now. He'll find out."

"What do you mean?" I didn't reply. "Isa?" I looked into his eyes, willing him to understand what I couldn't say out loud: my boyfriend is abusive. After a few moments, he put the pieces together and realization quickly flooded his expression. "Adrian." I gave a slight nod of confirmation.

~•~

After we ended the FaceTime call, Milo turned to me. "Have you given any thought to what I said?"

"About what?"

"About getting your stuff and you staying here. We only have a month until graduation."

I was quiet for a moment. "I think you were right," I started. "I can't do anything about what happened. I think some part of me will always love him. He was my first serious relationship. We even talked about getting engaged," I admitted. He flicked his focus to me, surprise in his eyes. "But I think I should move on," I continued. "Wallowing in self-pity isn't going to get me anywhere," I said, determined. I knew it wasn't going to be easy, but I wanted to heal, and finding the motivation was always the hardest step. "He works on Tuesday from three to seven."

Milo smiled at me. "Good."

~•~

"I'm back!" I called, closing the door with my foot as I was carrying multiple plastic bags in my hands. Adrian met me at the door and took some bags from me, walking to the kitchen.

"How was it? It's Friday night, I imagine most people are out partying or something, not grocery shopping."

"Yeah, it wasn't busy. I didn't have to wait in line to check out or anything." I set my bags on the counter and started taking out the groceries. "I got you something you might like," I added with a mischievous smile.

He hummed in appreciation. "So, you didn't run into anyone you know?" I tensed. He knows. "Hmm, Bella?"

"N-no."

"Are you sure?" He moved to stand right next to me. He was angry, yet calm. The scary kind of angry. "Don't lie to me," he warned. I saw his hand go to his pocket out of my peripheral vision. I saw metal glint off the harsh fluorescent kitchen lights.

"W-where did you g-get that?" I asked, my voice shaky. He had a switchblade in his hand.

"What did I tell you about Milo?" he pressed, his tone hard. I took a step away. He took a step closer. "Well?" I didn't answer, a lump of fear growing in my throat.

Suddenly, pain exploded in my left cheek and I stumbled back, landing on the floor a few feet away. My hand went to my throbbing cheek and I looked up, the shock evident on my face. Adrian shook out his right hand once and clenched it into a fist again. He had punched me.

Adrian lowered himself in front of me to meet my eyes, the blade still in his hand. "You are mine, and mine alone. Comprende, Bella?" I nodded, too scared to say anything. His hand swiped out and I jumped, feeling a sharp pain renewed in my cheek. My hand flew up to my cheek again, feeling warm liquid running down my face. "Comprende, Bella?" he repeated. Eyes wide with fear, I scrambled away, getting to my feet with my left hand pressed to my cheek. I was backing away as he took slow steps toward me. Then, I was sprinting out the door and down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator.

When I looked back, Adrian wasn't there. I slowed down when I got outside and felt my pockets. My phone was still in my pocket where I had put it when I was carrying the groceries. My hands shaking from the adrenaline, I dialed a number I knew by heart. He picked up on the first ring. "Milo?"

~•~

Unlocking the door to Adrian's apartment felt strange, foreign. The apartment was the same, but I wasn't. It had only been a few days, but it felt more like a few years.

We walked in and shut the door behind us. Milo looked around with an unreadable expression. His shoulders were squared, his jaw clenched, and his grip on the empty bag tight. Silently, I led the way to the bedroom. I picked up my backpack that was still resting on the floor next to the desk. Zipping it open, everything seemed to be where I had left it. Meanwhile, Milo focused on gathering my personal items. We agreed before we arrived that my clothes could be replaced, but a picture of my parents and me at Disney World when I was eight could not.

Suddenly, we heard a door open and slam closed. Milo and I looked at each other. "Who's here?" he mouthed. He moved to peek out into the living room and I followed him, looking over his shoulder. Adrian.

"No no no, he wasn't supposed to be here," I whispered, panicking.

As if he has eyes in the back of his head, Adrian turned around and saw us. "Bella." I froze. "You're back."

"No, we were just getting her stuff and then leaving," Milo interjected.

"Ah, you must be Milo," Adrian pronounced.

"You must be the abuser," Milo retorted. He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the bedroom, steering us toward the door.

"Bella, please," Adrian called. "Stay."

I couldn't find my voice. My throat felt like it was being constricted and my chest felt tight. I was shaking. Milo looked at me worriedly. "She's leaving."

What happened next felt like slow motion. Like Chronos decided to slow down time just for me to see.

Adrian charged at Milo, swinging his fist into his stomach. Milo doubled over, clutching his stomach. Before Milo had the chance to recover, Adrian pulled out his switchblade, twisting it into Milo's stomach. Pulling it out, Adrian backed away with a satisfied smile on his face.

Suddenly, time was back to normal again. I could hear myself screaming and feel my knees hit the ground next to Milo. I pressed my hand to Milo's stomach, trying to stop the bleeding. "Hang on, Milo," I told him, my voice cracking. My hands shaking and bloody, I reached into my pocket for my phone and dialed 911, putting it on speaker.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"M-my friend. H-he's been s-stabbed."

"Okay, I'm sending an ambulance to your location right now. Can you stay on the line until they get there?"

"Y-yeah." It was then that I realized there were tears streaming down my face. "It's going to be okay, Milo, just hang on," I said. Was that for him or for me?

"I love you, Isa." His voice was weak.

"No, don't say that, Milo." Tears were blurring my vision and I blinked them away, frustrated.

"'Never look back, darling. It distracts from the now,'" Milo mimicked Edna from The Incredibles, grabbing my hand. Then, his eyes glazed over and his body went still.

"Milo?!" I cried out as I heard the door barge open, paramedics rushing in. "Milo..." Tears flowed down my face as I brought my shaking hands to his eyes, shutting them. It later occurred to me that that was the last time I was ever going to see them.

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference," I whispered to him, watching as Milo was lifted onto a stretcher, a sheet covering his body and taken away by the paramedics.

One of them remained and asked me, "Do you know who did this?"

I looked around, realizing he had disappeared at some point. It was too late. He got away. "Adrian...Adrian Price."