Deceiver

Karen

Upon opening my eyes in an unfamiliar setting, confusion immediately settled into my mind. I tried to move, but I noticed the presence of a strange arm around me. A shiver ran down my spine; after all, the vivid memory is that I no longer have a fiancé. So whose arm could it be?

Moving cautiously, the evident presence of someone behind me revealed itself, warm breath blowing on my neck, which I only noticed at that moment. With caution, I managed to turn around and came face to face with the man who was embracing me. The memory of the moments at the bar flooded back all at once. The man sharing the bed with me was Othon, a handsome and kind man I met when he helped me out of an uncomfortable situation with a drunkard at the bar.

As I sighed, frustration overcame me as I realized I had spent the night in bed with a stranger. The fact that I now knew his name didn't change the reality that I met him yesterday and now I'm sharing a bed with him. I surveyed the hotel room Othon had brought me to, reflecting on the previous night. At the bar, everyone was lively, forming a fun group with my friends and Othon's friends. However, when it was time to leave, I didn't hesitate to accept his invitation to go to the hotel.

That night, all I was seeking was fun, an escape from my fiancé's betrayal, and the opportunity to fully enjoy the moments in Fernando de Noronha. Now, with the effect of the alcohol wearing off, I question whether I made the right decision, despite the wonderful moments I had with Othon. The sex was amazing, but the reality that unfolds now makes me question the sanity of my choices.

I glance at the bedside table and find my phone on it. I check the time on the device and realize it's still very early, not even five in the morning. I'm unsure whether I should leave anyway or wait for the day to break when I feel movement behind me. It seems Othon has awakened, considering the volume forming against my hip. He hugs me tighter, confirming my suspicion. I'm completely taken aback by the intimate gesture. I've never slept with a stranger. The only man in my life was Max; I was completely inexperienced in the art of casual relationships.

Othon greets me with a kiss on the neck, and the warmth of his breath against my skin sends shivers down my spine. He comments, in a relaxed tone:

“It's still very early. How about we enjoy a little more time in bed?”

I glance at my phone, confirm the time, and respond:

“I won't be able to sleep anymore.”

Then, with a suggestive smile, Othon suggests:

“I wasn't talking about sleeping. We can do something more interesting.”

I feel his body getting closer to mine, and his presence becomes even more palpable. I would like to show resistance, to be strong in the face of temptation, but my body seems to have other plans. I end up turning to him, finding his eyes full of desire, when he surprises me with an obscenely sensual kiss. The touch of his lips against mine is irresistible, and any trace of resistance I could have disappears in the intensity of the moment.

I completely surrender to the intense pleasure, and after another powerful climax, I feel the relaxing sensation envelop me, leading me to fall asleep again. Upon awakening, I realize I am alone in the room, which leaves me intrigued. Silence dominates the environment, and I assume Othon must be in the bathroom of the luxurious suite. I'm not sure how to act until I search for my phone again and find a handwritten note just below the device.

As I picked up the note, signed by Othon, I read the message informing me that there was an emergency and he had to leave, but he would be back soon. Othon's cellphone number is also written on the note, leaving a pleasant sensation in me. The gesture of leaving a personal message, even in my absence, brings an unexpected comfort, and I can't help but smile at the thought of Othon's care.

The smile completely fades from my face when, completely unexpectedly, a woman exuding wealth and luxury enters the suite abruptly, causing me to cover myself as best as possible. The woman is also startled to see me, and we both exchange shocked looks.

"Who are you?" We both speak at the same time.

I get up from the bed wrapped in the sheet, feeling terrible about the invasion of my privacy.

"What are you doing here?" I rephrase the question.

"I could ask you the same thing!" the woman replies, visibly shocked.

I refused to explain anything to her, after all, she unacceptably entered the suite.

"You must leave now, as the suite is occupied and you shouldn't have entered here this way," I argue, trying to keep calm.

The woman insists:

"I'm not leaving until you give me an explanation. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"It's none of your business. Leave now!" I order, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the situation.

"I have every right to be here, girl. My fiancé is staying in this suite."

That catches me completely off guard, and I wonder if she's talking about Othon. With a firm expression, she confirms that yes, she is engaged to Othon, the man who is staying in that suite.

I can't believe such misfortune and try to recall something Othon and I talked about before I agreed to come with him to the hotel. The memory of his response to my question about whether he was single or not is quite clear, and I repeat it to the intruder.

"You must be mistaken. Othon assured me that there was no one waiting for him in São Paulo," I respond, perplexed, trying to understand the confusion unfolding before me.

"Did you sleep together? Is that what you're saying?"

"I'm sorry, but yes, we spent the night together," I confirm, feeling guilty about the situation, "But I could never have imagined that he was lying about being single."

I feel awful about the situation, apologize to the woman, and, in a humiliating manner, pick up my carefully placed clothes on a chair, something that could only have been done by Othon, and ask for permission to go to the bathroom.

I dress and try to fix my appearance before returning to the room. I find the woman sitting in the armchair, legs crossed and an expression of pure hatred on her face, which is understandable. I went through something similar just a few days ago, and I know very well how much it hurts to be betrayed in this way.

Upon seeing me emerge from the bathroom, the woman rises from her seat and approaches me with an expression of extreme sadness.

"I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself," she says with a trembling voice, "I'm Larissa, Othon's fiancée."

Larissa holds Othon's note in her hands and looks at me with tears in her eyes. I feel like a horrible person for causing all that pain to another woman, especially when I would never do something like this if I had the slightest suspicion about the truthfulness of Othon's words. I believed him wholeheartedly.

"I know I might seem like a complete idiot, but I want to ask you a huge favor..."

I am curious about Othon's fiancée's declaration, but I tell her to go ahead.

"I don't want you to contact my fiancé," she surprised me by saying.

"I have no intention of doing that, believe me."

Larissa doesn't seem satisfied and insists:

"I beg you not to. I'm pregnant with Othon's child, we're going to have a baby together, and I love him too much to simply let him go at this important moment in our shared history."

That makes everything even more cruel for me; I feel like a stone has been placed on my chest. What a big scoundrel!

"I promise you I will never contact Othon, that big liar."

"Thank you!"

Larissa thanks me and surprises me with a tight hug, seeming very grateful for it. She should know that it's the least I can do in the face of my own mistake in once again believing in a man.