Angela's hands were trembling as she got inside her room and then locked herself in the bathroom. Her heart rammed against her chest while a traumatic experience she never wanted to remember was trying to push its way towards the front of her mind, forcing her to think about it. She turned on the tap in the sink and let it run without doing anything but stare at it.

It's possible that Giovanni could've been mistaken and that he was only familiar with her because he saw her in Gael's house that day. Perhaps he'd met someone in the past who could have had the same hair or eyes like her or something. She didn't want to believe that he could have seen her somewhere else.

Because if he did...and what she was afraid of was actually the case, then that would mean Giovanni saw that video...those videos from three years ago of an event that ruined her life.

She was horrified to think that there was a huge possibility that he'd have seen it. The only people who had were those on the dark web and Giovanni and Gael were the kinds of people that did illegal stuff. Being on the dark web would surely fit their profile.

Oh, god... Gael. Had he seen it too? If he had, he would've said something, wouldn't he? He wouldn't keep this from her. He would have already told her and maybe… She sighed, shaking her head as her hands were still clutched tightly on her sides.

Angela felt an indescribable feeling all over her body. She had the urge to strip off all her clothes and soak in the tub or stand under the shower to get rid of the feeling—though now, she knew it had something to do more with her mentally than physically. It was a familiar dreaded feeling that consumed her back then. Something she managed to suppress for a long time and she wasn't willing to go down that dark path again. A tear escaped her eye and she gasped, only realizing that she had been holding her breath. She quickly wiped her cheek. She hadn't cried in a long time. She wouldn't cry ever again after promising to herself she wouldn't. Crying was for the weak.

"You're not weak, Angela," she muttered to herself.

A knock on the door caused her to start, then Gael's low and warm voice sounded behind the door, "Angel? You've been there for a while... Is everything okay?"

She clenched and unclenched her hands. And when she didn't answer, he knocked again. "Do you need help?"

"No..." Her voice croaked and she had to clear her throat, coughing once. "Um. I'll be right there. Just a second!" She took a few cleansing breaths, ran her hands under the water for a few seconds before grabbing a towel to dry them.

She hesitated to open the door, her hand clutching the handle as she convinced herself that Gael wouldn't have known about what happened.

If he had...she wouldn't be able to look at him in the eye ever again.

The thought of it just stung so badly, she wished she would just blackout so she could forget about the past few minutes.

Taking another deep breath, she pulled the corners of her mouth upwards into a smile and opened the door. "Hey..." She walked past him and headed to the closet to look for...wait, what was she looking for?

"You okay?" he asked.

She didn't face him, but she kept the smile on her face so her voice sounded cheerful. "Yeah...it's nothing. I was going to change the band-aids on my fingers but couldn't find the first-aid kit anywhere." She wiggled her fingers in the air but still kept her back facing him.

"It's in the living room. I'll go get it."

"Oh, right." She turned around and saw him slip out of the room but he was only gone for a few seconds and then he came back with the kit. Angela took it from him and muttered a "thank you" before going back to the bathroom.

He caught her by the arm, stopping her from taking another step. "Let me do it," he said in a careful tone.

She softly chuckled. "Why? It's just a band-aid."

"I want to." His eyes were so gentle. Even without speaking, she could see the worry in them. Why would he be worried over papercuts? Or was it because of the wine glasses she just broke?

Her heart fluttered at his words and his gaze, but she gently retracted her arm from his hold and strolled back to the bathroom, then attempted to crack dark humor, "I can certainly do it myself. But if I get shot, I'll definitely ask for your help." She laughed at her own lame joke.

Okay, no one said she was normal. And she didn't mean to joke about getting shot. Her mouth was just too fast for her to stop it. But her brain worked too fast and the only medical stuff she remembered right off the bat was Gael's gunshot wound from months ago. She blurted without thinking much.

Angela opened the first-aid kit on top of the bathroom counter, but before she could do anything else, Gael had already slid the kit away from her.

She gaped at him as he wordlessly took out four pieces of small adhesive bandages from the box and set them on the counter. Then, he slowly peeled off the ones on her fingers, discarded them in the trash, and then replaced them with the new ones he prepared. His movements were measured and gentle—it caused her heart to throb just by watching him and feeling his touch on her.

Angela didn't need to change the bandages, and Gael probably knew that too, but he still did it anyway. If he noticed that something was odd with her just now, he didn't call her out on it from hiding it from him. Because of that, she didn't know whether to thank him...or be mad at him.

After putting on the last bandage, he held her hand in his and kept his gaze at it as he told her, "I know you can do it on your own. You're a strong person. If I wasn't here, you'd tend on your wounds by yourself like you always had—because you can. And that's okay. I'm proud that you can."

Then he looked up until their eyes met and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "But I'm here. I want to do this for you. And it's also okay to depend on me, Angel. It doesn't make you any less of a strong woman to let me in."