Tessa walked the red carpet trailing to the old mansion, Charles by her side. The cameras flashed, what felt like a million lights snapping all at once, trying to blind them. Charles gripped her waist tighter, the two of them entering the large building and leaving the dizzying cameras behind.

"Look at this place," Tessa breathed, eyes roaming the luxurious entrance parlour, with marble columns sprawled along the walls and a low hanging chandelier, diamonds glistening on each prong, in the centre of the ceiling.

"It is very beautiful," Charles admitted, glancing around at the people-filled entrance. "But not as beautiful as you."

Theresa blushed, a rosy red staining her cheeks. "Really Charles?"

The Ferrari driver shrugged, smirking. "Sorry mon amour. I couldn't help it."

Tessa rolled her eyes but there was a smile on her face as she led her boyfriend further into the house, entering the ballroom- because of course they have a ballroom- and walking into the fray of people. Left and right there was someone important, some philanthropist or athlete, lawyer or Hollywood star, all milling about, mingling with one another, champagne glass in hand.

Charles got them two glasses from a passing waiter, handing one to Tessa. She thanked him and took a sip, her eyes idly scanning the crowd of people when...

Her heart dropped.

It fucking dropped, as did her stomach, both falling in one low swoop leaving her dizzy and nauseous.

"Tessie?" Charles asked quietly, noticing the sudden shift in her mood. "What is it?"

But the girl couldn't tear her eyes away from the man she'd spotted in the crowd. The one with beach blonde hair she'd stroked her fingers through a million times. With the ocean blue eyes she fell in love with, that were soft one minute and hard the next. And the hands that had held her once and hurt her in equal measure.

Theresa stared at Cameron Larson, the man of her dreams at one point and the man of her nightmares at another, and she was assaulted with memories. Memories of skin on skin, mouths on mouths. Memories of bruises blemishing her body, of the soul crushing fear that seemed to drown her whenever she so much as thought of the supposed love of her life.

"Tessa? Theresa?" Charles moved in front of her, blocking her ex boyfriend from view, forcing her to look at her actual boyfriend. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Theresa opened her mouth, but nothing seemed to come out. She didn't know what to say, what to do. She couldn't even believe he was here. She hadn't even seen him since the night they broke up.

It was raining. That was all Theresa could think of as she stumbled through the empty street, sobbing, shaking. She was supposed to be meeting Olivia at the park near her house, but everything looked the same in the dark, and with the raindrops blurring her vision she was afraid she was lost.

Pain lanced through her with every step, a limp in her walk. She could hear his shouts, feel his anger, the shove of his hands, the free falling as she fell down the stairs. The fear as she crashed into the glass table, narrowly avoiding getting impaled by the broken shards. Even so there was a cut across her brow that had bled significantly, staining the side of her face crimson, her hair plastered there.

She limped towards the park, relief blooming in her chest when she spotted a figure waiting there. Olivia had come. Theresa was safe. They'd figure out what to do. All she knew now was that it was over. She had come too close to death. Cam had nearly killed her. What was stopping him from actually doing it?

Yet as she continued walking, Theresa realised something was wrong. Very wrong. The figure was too tall, too bulky. The posture was too stiff. Too late, she recognized who the figure actually was.

"Theresa," Cameron breathed, the relief evident in his voice. "You're okay."

"W-what are you doing here?" was all the girl could stutter, as the man wrapped his arms around her, trapping her in his embrace.

He breathed in her scent, gripping her even tighter. "Olivia told me where you were."

Fear choked her, clogging her throat as tears streamed down her face. "She's not coming?"

Cameron pulled back, only to cup her cheeks, fondly wiping away the tears he caused, ignoring her blood splattered face. Or enjoying it. She couldn't tell at this point. "You don't need Olivia. You have me. I'm all you need Theresa."

And so she had to let him take her home, muffling her sobbing because she knew Cameron would get mad. She let him put her to bed, kissing her blood stained forehead and lying down next to her, arm laid possessively over her stomach. And she let him murmur his words into her ear, how much he loved her, how she'd never find anyone like him, how lonely she'd be without him.

And when he fell asleep, his breath finally even, she made her escape once again, except this time all on her own. She couldn't let him find her again, couldn't bear another minute trapped with him. She hadn't seen him since.

Until now.

"I need to go to the bathroom."

Charles opened his mouth to say something but Theresa had already fled, moving as fast as her dress would allow her, craving the safety of a locked door to hide behind. Her breaths came out short and fast, her head spinning.

What was happening? How was Cameron there? Theresa hadn't even realised he was still in New York. She thought he'd moved to Michigan after she'd threatened him with a restraining order a few years back, so what was he doing here?

She stayed in that bathroom for a while longer, trying to calm her wild heart. Each time she closed her eyes all she could see was him, all she could feel was the gut wrenching fear that had paralyzed her for so long, kept her with him even when she knew she didn't deserve it.

It was only when she felt more put-together, like she had grabbed every part of her, every cracked chip and crumbled piece of herself and taped herself back up, an unsteady glue that could break at any moment, did she leave the bathroom.

And come face to face with Cameron Larson himself.

All the colour drained from Theresa's face. Her fixed features were cracking, throat clogging up. Something was inside her, some creature hissing and clawing, claws digging into her flesh begging her to run, growling and weeping, crying and howling.

And Cameron was staring at her like he knew all that, like there was a twin animal in his soul keening for release, the predator to her prey, needing to be near her like she needed to be away from him. Her mirror in every way and her opposite in equal measure.

"Theresa," he breathed, his velvet voice like rocks on her skin, eyes almost awed as he looked at her.

He always called her Theresa. Never Tessa or Tess. Always Theresa. He said he loved her name, the elegance of it, used it all the time, let it roll off his tongue like a prayer. Or a curse.

Theresa opened her mouth but nothing came out. She felt like she was drowning, like she was back there in their apartment bleeding and crying as he screamed at her, louder and louder. She could feel her body shake now like it did then, fear wracking her body and twining itself around her heart, squeezing squeezing squeezing.

"W-what are you doing here?"

It was that night all over again. She couldn't escape him, she could never escape him. He was always there, he'd always be there. She was stuck, trapped, the invisible walls of his control closing in, gripping her with the tightness of a fist.

Cameron quirked an eyebrow. "You didn't see my messages?"

"I saw them." Her chin trembled.

Cameron's eyes flashed at the action, from annoyance or satisfaction she couldn't tell. Maybe both. "And what did you think? Did you miss me?"

"Miss you?" The incredulous response caught her by surprise, and Cameron too it seemed, who was not prepared for her to speak back at him at all.

She'd changed a lot since they'd broken up. She'd been changed, by people she loved. By Charles.

The thought of her boyfriend gave her a bit of courage, though not much. Enough, however, to start walking past him, towards the real love of her life, the man she cared for with her whole heart.

Except Cameron wasn't happy with that, and his hand curled around Theresa's wrist with an iron grip, eyes hard and dark, and she really was back there this time. It was as if nothing had changed, years hadn't passed, and they were Cameron and Theresa again. The lawyer who wooed the singer, crazy in love until they just.. weren't. Making love until they were making fights.

She couldn't even remember how it started. One hit, and a million apologies and promises to never do it again. Another hit, but this time he bought her a ring as well. Two hits and the start of the psychological abuse, the hissing words and cutting doubts. But he introduces her to his parents, fully welcomes her into his family. And then he bruises her ribs, cracks her tooth. She has to get a fake one. She doesn't tell anyone but she's thinking this is the end of it. And then Cameron is sobbing and begs her to stay, using his emotional tactics to manipulate her. And the next time he only hits her a few times, which is nothing compared to what he's done before, so she can stay, can't she? it's not that bad.

The never ending cycle of violence.

"Tessa?"

Charles' voice was like a melody. It spoke of soft embraces and safety, love and tenderness. Everything Theresa didn't have in that moment with Cameron. Everything she craved for once again.

Cameron's hand left her wrist and she was back in the present, in her actual life away from Cameron. And there Charles was, looking concerned, eyes narrowed on her wrist where her ex had previously been holding her.

"And here's the boyfriend," Cameron muttered, giving him a dirty glance that Theresa was once prey to.

Charles raised his eyebrows at the hostile introduction, glaze sliding to Theresa. "Whose this?"

Before she could speak, Cameron stepped forward, a smug smirk on his face as he extended his hand. "Cameron Larson. Pleasure to meet you."

Charles stared at him for a split-second, recognition clicking in his brain. His face went emotionless, eyes going down to Cameron's hand, back to his face, and then his fist slammed into Cameron's jaw, a sickening crack accompanying the action.

Theresa gasped, hands going to her mouth in shock, as did the other on-lookers as Cameron stumbled back with a groan, hand going to his already bruising chin. He glared daggers at Charles as he rightened himself and, much to Theresa's dismay, took a step towards him.

"Oh you're gonna hit me?" Charles asked, laughing humorlessly. Theresa had never seen this side of him before, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to. He lowered his voice so none of the audience could hear him. "Like you hit her?"

Cameron visibly flinched, baring his teeth like an animal. "Shut up."

"Walk away while you still can," Charles said in response. He flexed his hands.

Theresa watched on nervously. She knew she should be doing something, trying to diffuse the situation, but the thought of so much as speaking right now made her want to throw up.

Cameron seethed, grounding his teeth, probably still in pain from Charles' vicious right hook. His gaze turned to Theresa, sending her a dirty look as if all this was her fault.

"You'll regret this."

Then he was leaving, walking away after giving the lamest fucking line known to man, nursing a sore jaw and wounded pride.

And Charles wrapped his arms around her immediately, whispering assurances into her ear, hiding her from the cameras' sight. And Tessa was trying her hardest not to cry, shaking hands holding Charles' waist, her lifeline in that moment.

She couldn't remember getting home, didn't recall how she ended up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket with Charles next to her, head in the crook of his neck as he held her.

All she knew was that she was safe. She was with Charles. Everything would be fine.

Right?

a/n:

sorry for the long writing chapter but i had to do it for the plot