Safety Net
Chapter 4 – Safety Net
The first time Belle left the house after the breakup, it wasn’t brave.
It was accidental.
Her body simply ran out of air.
By the fifth day, her apartment felt like a sealed container. The walls were too close. The silence had learned her name. Even the familiar smells–the detergent on her bedsheets, the jasmine diffuser Crystal had insisted on buying–started to feel like proof that time was moving without her consent.
Belle sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the tiled floor.
Her stomach rolled.
She pressed her palm against her chest.
She couldn’t inhale fully.
Not because her lungs were broken.
Because her brain had decided oxygen was optional.
In the living room, Crystal was talking to Ivan at full volume, as if noise could build a barricade.
“I’m telling you, she needs sunlight. She needs vitamin D. She needs to go downstairs and see other humans.”
Ivan’s voice, calm: “Sunlight is not a prescription.”
“It is for me.”
“You’re not the patient.”
Crystal gasped. “Excuse me. I am also suffering.”
Ivan sighed. “Yes. You are suffering dramatically.”
A laugh should’ve come out of Belle.
It didn’t.
Belle’s breath hitched again, sharp and shallow.
Her fingers curled against the bedsheet.
She felt the familiar spiral start:
I can’t breathe.
I’m going to die.
If I die, then it’s easier.
The thought landed like a cold coin.
Belle’s body went still.
Her mind tried to drift toward it.
A door opening. Quiet. No more feeling.
Belle blinked hard, frightened by herself.
Her hand shook as she reached for her phone.
She didn’t call her mother.
She couldn’t.
She didn’t call Crystal.
Crystal was already here.
Her thumb hovered over Aleem’s chat.
Aleem had texted every morning.
You ate?
How was sleep?
Any calls from parents?
No pressure. No commentary. No advice she didn’t ask for.
Just check-ins like someone counting headcount after an accident.
Belle stared at the screen.
She didn’t want to be a burden.
She didn’t want to be weak.
But she couldn’t breathe.
Her fingers typed:
I can’t breathe.
Then: I think I’m panicking.
Then she dropped the phone as if the confession had burned her.
The reply came almost immediately.
I’m coming. Open door. Sit on the floor. Back against wall. Feet flat. Look at one object. I’ll be there in 10.
No emojis.
No panic.
Just instructions.
Belle read it twice.
Her body obeyed because it didn’t know what else to do.
She slid off the bed, sat on the floor with her back against the wall, feet flat, knees bent.
She looked at one object.
Her laundry basket.
A ridiculous anchor.
But it was something.
She forced herself to breathe in counts like she had learned in some long-forgotten self-help video.
One.
Two.
Three.
Her hands trembled.
From outside, Crystal’s voice rose. “Belle? You okay?”
Belle couldn’t answer.
She heard footsteps.
The bedroom door opened.
Crystal appeared, eyes wide. “Oh my god. What happened?”
Belle’s lips moved without sound.
Crystal rushed forward, crouching. “Okay okay okay. I’m here. I’m here. Look at me. Breathe.”
Belle tried.
Her breaths kept catching like a stutter.
Ivan appeared behind Crystal, phone already in hand.
“Should we call ambulance?” Ivan asked, calm but serious.
Belle’s eyes widened in panic.
No ambulance.
No sirens.
No public proof.
Crystal shook her head at Ivan. “No. Wait. She’s not dying. She’s just–”
Belle’s fingers clutched Crystal’s sleeve.
Crystal’s voice softened. “Okay. Okay. It’s a panic attack. We can do this.”
Ivan looked at Belle. “Aleem?”
Belle nodded weakly.
Ivan’s face tightened with relief. “Good.”
They waited.
Not long.
Ten minutes that felt like ten years.
Then the doorbell.
Aleem.
He entered like a person walking into a hospital room.
Not rushing.
Not dramatic.
Controlled urgency.
He removed his shoes neatly even though he was clearly moving fast. He didn’t let the habit slow him down; he let it ground him.
His eyes found Belle immediately.
On the floor.
Back against wall.
Hands shaking.
He didn’t ask what happened.
He didn’t ask why.
He crouched a few steps away–not too close–and spoke softly.
“Belle. Look at me.”
Belle’s eyes flicked.
Aleem’s gaze was steady.
“You’re safe,” he said.
Belle tried to inhale. Failed.
Aleem’s voice remained calm. “Copy me, okay? In… two… three… four. Hold. Out… two… three… four.”
He demonstrated with his own breathing, slow and exaggerated.
Belle’s chest tightened.
Her body didn’t want to follow.
Aleem didn’t scold.
He repeated the count.
Again.
Again.
Crystal hovered beside Belle, holding her hand.
Ivan stood behind Crystal, watching, ready.
After the fourth cycle, Belle’s breath loosened slightly.
It wasn’t smooth.
But it was air.
Aleem kept counting.
And slowly, like a knot being undone carefully, Belle’s panic began to soften.
Tears spilled down her cheeks.
Not loud sobs.
Silent, hot tears.
Aleem lowered his voice. “Good. Keep going.”
Belle’s body shook.
Aleem didn’t move closer.
He didn’t touch her.
He just stayed in her line of sight.
A human metronome.
A steady point.
Eventually, Belle inhaled fully.
The breath surprised her.
She burst into tears, finally loud.
Crystal hugged her immediately.
Ivan exhaled like he had been holding his own breath.
Aleem’s shoulders loosened.
He didn’t smile.
He just said softly, “There.”
As if the world had returned to its rightful shape.
When Belle could sit up properly, Aleem moved to the kitchen and poured warm water.
He placed the cup in front of her.
“Drink,” he said.
Belle’s hands shook as she took it.
Crystal wiped Belle’s face with a tissue like a mother bird.
“Okay,” Crystal muttered, voice still trembling. “No more panic attacks. I ban.”
Ivan looked at Aleem. “That’s the first one?”
Aleem nodded.
Ivan’s eyes narrowed. “We should tell her parents.”
Belle’s head snapped up.
“No,” she whispered.
Her voice was raw. “No, don’t tell them. They will panic. My mum will come and cry and then I will feel worse.”
Crystal nodded fiercely. “Yes. Don’t tell. Auntie Tan will self-combust.”
Ivan sighed. “I didn’t say we tell everything. But they need to know she’s… not okay.”
Belle’s throat tightened.
Aleem spoke quietly. “We can update them without details. Just… keep them connected. That’s their boundary.”
Belle stared at him.
He remembered.
Don’t isolate her from us.
Aleem’s gaze softened. “We can tell them you’re with us, you’re eating, you’re resting. That’s it.”
Belle swallowed.
It still felt humiliating.
But her chest still carried the ghost of panic.
She nodded.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Aleem nodded. “Okay.”
That evening, ABIX gathered properly.
Not just as two people sleeping over.
Not just crisis management.
A meeting.
Ivan brought out his laptop like he was about to present quarterly results.
Crystal brought snacks like she was hosting a slumber party.
Aleem brought nothing visible.
He brought steadiness.
Belle sat on the sofa with a blanket around her shoulders, looking smaller than she usually did.
Ivan opened his laptop. “Okay. We need plan.”
Crystal raised her hand. “First plan: we kidnap Jason and lock him in Pasir Ris Park.”
Ivan stared at her. “No.”
Crystal pouted. “Second plan: we make Belle beautiful until he regret.”
Ivan’s expression remained flat. “Also no.”
Crystal gasped. “Why you hate my plans?”
Ivan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Because they are revenge fantasies, not recovery.”
Crystal hissed. “Same thing what.”
Aleem spoke softly. “Let’s focus on Belle.”
Crystal shut up.
Ivan looked at Belle. “Belle. We’re going to ask some questions. You can choose to answer or not. But it helps us keep you safe.”
Belle’s throat tightened. “Safe?”
Ivan nodded. “Safe.”
Belle’s stomach churned.
Aleem’s voice stayed quiet. “It’s okay.”
Belle nodded weakly.
Ivan’s tone was gentle but direct. “Are you sleeping?”
Belle hesitated. “Not… properly.”
Crystal leaned in. “Like two hours then wake up and stare at ceiling?”
Belle nodded.
Ivan typed something. “Are you eating?”
Belle looked down. “A bit.”
Ivan typed.
Aleem watched Belle’s face closely.
Not for answers.
For what the questions were doing to her.
Ivan continued. “Are you having thoughts of hurting yourself?”
The room went still.
Crystal froze.
Belle’s breath caught.
Aleem’s jaw tightened.
Belle’s eyes flicked up, startled, as if she hadn’t expected the question to be asked out loud.
Her throat closed.
She stared at her hands.
The memory of that cold coin thought returned.
If I die, then it’s easier.
Belle’s vision blurred.
Crystal’s voice went soft, for once. “Belle…”
Ivan didn’t move. He didn’t soften the question.
He held it steady.
Because sometimes, safety required bravery from the people around you.
Belle’s lips trembled.
“I… I don’t want to,” she whispered.
Ivan nodded slowly. “Okay. But have you thought about it?”
Belle’s eyes filled.
Her voice was barely audible. “Sometimes… my brain… suggests it.”
Crystal covered her mouth with her hand.
Ivan’s face tightened, but he stayed calm. “Okay. Thank you for telling us.”
Aleem exhaled slowly, relief and fear mixed.
He didn’t flinch.
He didn’t look shocked.
He looked… prepared.
Because he had been watching.
Quietly.
Properly.
Ivan’s voice was steady. “That means we don’t leave you alone for long periods. Not because we don’t trust you. Because the brain is an asshole when it’s in pain.”
Crystal sniffed, eyes shining. “Your brain is not allowed to be asshole to you.”
Belle’s mouth trembled.
Aleem spoke quietly. “Do you have a plan? Like… have you thought about how?”
Belle shook her head quickly. “No. No.”
Aleem nodded, watching her carefully. “Okay.”
Ivan typed again. “We’re going to create a safety plan. Not dramatic. Just practical.”
Crystal leaned forward, fierce. “Safety plan means you must text us when you feel like drowning.”
Belle whispered, “I already did. Today.”
Crystal’s eyes widened. “Good. See. You can do it.”
Ivan continued. “We’ll do shifts. Someone sleeps over every night for now. During the day, we check in every few hours. If you feel panic or dark thoughts, you text. If you can’t text, you call.”
Belle swallowed.
It felt like being monitored.
It also felt like being held.
Her throat tightened.
“Is it… too much?” she whispered.
Aleem shook his head. “No.”
Ivan’s voice softened slightly. “It’s temporary. It’s to get you through the worst wave.”
Crystal nodded. “We are your floaties.”
Belle let out a small, broken laugh.
Crystal grinned. “See? Floaties working already.”
Aleem’s eyes softened again.
He looked away quickly.
Proper.
That night, after Crystal and Ivan had dozed off, Belle lay on her bed with the blanket pulled up to her chin.
She stared at the ceiling.
In the living room, she could hear Aleem’s footsteps–quiet, measured.
He was probably checking if the door was locked.
Probably making sure the balcony was closed.
Probably making sure she wasn’t alone with anything sharp.
The thought made Belle’s throat tighten.
Humiliation.
Gratitude.
Fear.
All tangled.
She whispered into the dark, “Aleem?”
Footsteps stopped.
Aleem’s voice came from the doorway, gentle. “Yeah?”
Belle didn’t look at him.
She stared at the ceiling.
“I hate myself,” she whispered.
The words fell out before she could stop them.
Silence.
Then Aleem said, softly, “Don’t.”
Belle’s breath hitched.
“I feel… pathetic,” she whispered.
Aleem’s voice stayed steady. “You’re wounded. That’s different.”
Belle swallowed. “I don’t know who I am without him.”
Aleem’s chest tightened.
He stepped closer, still not entering fully, keeping the boundary.
“You’re still you,” he said quietly. “Even if you can’t feel it yet.”
Belle’s eyes burned.
She turned her face slightly toward the doorway.
Aleem stood there, a shadow in the dim hall light.
Not looming.
Not possessive.
Just present.
Belle whispered, “How do you know what to say?”
Aleem paused.
For a moment, Belle thought he wouldn’t answer.
Then he said, voice low, “Because I’ve been close to losing people before.”
Belle’s throat tightened.
She wanted to ask who.
She didn’t.
Some truths were not hers to pull out.
Aleem continued, softly, “And because I don’t want to lose you.”
The sentence landed.
Not romantic.
Not a confession.
A statement of fact.
A friend’s fear.
Belle’s chest cracked open.
Tears slipped down her temples into her hair.
She whispered, “Okay.”
Aleem exhaled. “Okay.”
He didn’t say more.
He didn’t step closer.
He didn’t cross the line.
Proper.
He stayed in the doorway until Belle’s breathing steadied.
Then, like someone leaving a lamp on for a child, he said softly, “Sleep. I’m here.”
Belle closed her eyes.
For the first time in days, her body loosened into something close to rest.
Not healed.
But anchored.
Held by a safety net that didn’t ask her to perform.