4. Betrayal

Selena stood in her gallery, looking disheveled. Hair uncombed, still wearing yesterday’s clothes and she hasn’t slept a bit. This scenery which had mesmerized her before felt as if it was engulfing her right now. Her head ached at all those paintings which surrounded her.

Guests glanced at her as they maintained their distance with her. It had been three days now since she found out about that bastard. She raised the bottle of whisky to her mouth, took a last sip as she wobbled her way to the director’s office.

She barged in and he jerked at his desk, accidentally slamming down his laptop. He stood, sweating profusely, completely taken aback, “What the— Ms. Chase? My God, what happened to you?” 

She arched an eyebrow, cackling as she stared at the laptop, “What were you watching in there, huh?” 

The director reddened, “I was just—Nothing of your concern. Why are you here? And in that state?!”

She approached his desk, tears threatening to fall off, “Shut down the exhibition. Wrap it all up.” 

He shook his head, confusion all over his face, “But you still have two more weeks! Most of your paintings have been sold and…should I remind you that I got in touch with Channel24? They are coming in three days for media coverage!”

“I don’t care. I don’t want this anymore. Get rid of all of them.”

He reasoned, wondering why she was making such a rash decision, “Ms. Chase. Let’s be rational here. You’ve already invested a lot of money—” 

“For fuck’s sake, I made my fucking mind! What’s there not to understand?!” She roared, raising the whisky bottle and slamming it against the side of the marbled table, pieces of glass shattering all over the carpet. 

"Unbelievable," The director stared at her outrageously, raising his voice at her since it seemed that was the only way he could get her to understand now. “Very well then. If that's what you really want, it will be done but know that this single savage act of yours will take a toll on your career.”

She sobbed, looking away, raising her hand to her eyes to hide her tears, “Just do it already. I don’t give a damn anymore.” He reached for his phone, looking concerned, “And I’m calling a taxi to get you to your home since you clearly aren’t in your right mind.” 

She snorted, “Why? Are you my father? Even he wouldn’t care enough.” He pursed his lips, searching for the Uber app in his phone, “That’s it.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She loved that spot in her crappy apartment. Since she was on the last floor, she had the roof all to herself. Lying there, staring at the stars, she could ponder about the wrong decisions she made. She was a monster. She was a horrible person and she was blind. So fucking blind. 

Her cellphone had been ringing so many times and each time, it was that fucking bastard. She didn’t have the strength to deal with him ever. She groaned as she heard the familiar sound of a car pulling over right beneath. 

She distastefully gazed at the empty bottle at her side, realizing just now that her head was aching, her body was screaming that she should stop torturing herself. 

“Selena?” She closed her eyes. Her name still sounded so sweet when he said it. “Babe. Where you at?” 

She heard him climbing the few stairs and a minute later, he was right there, staring down at her. He hastily knelt by her side, his hand cupping her cheek, “Babe. What happened? The gallery…” “Don’t touch me.” She swatted his hand away, repulsed by him.

Jason slowly sat beside her, wondering what happened to her. It hurt to see her in that state but he insisted, wanting to know what was troubling her, “What happened at the gallery?” 

“I’m done with art. Please go.” 

He pressed his palm on her forehead, “You’re burning. Stop making me worry like that. Whatever it is, we’ll get through this together.” 

She scoffed. She couldn’t believe his words. How dare he? How just dare he? She wanted to punch him in the face. She hated him. She hated herself. Three fucking years of her life wasted on that asshole. She turned her back to him, not wanting to let him see her tears, “Please, just leave Jason.” 

He gently said, “I’ll draw a bath for you, alright babe? Come downstairs.” He stood, feeling heavy to see her in pain. He could not understand why she took such a rash action. He knew she had waited so long for the opportunity to showcase her art to the world. The media was going to come too. So why did she shut down the exhibition? 

“Jason?” Her voice shook him out of his thoughts. “Yes babe?” “Wait for me in the tub… naked.” 

He smiled, feeling relieved, “Anything for you, gorgeous.” 

“I’ll be there in ten.”

She waited for five minutes. She had thought about it a lot. However hard this was, she would do the right thing. She stood, feeling aches all over her body. She quietly made her way back inside. The bathroom’s door was opened. His clothes were discarded on the floor. The translucent curtain was slightly drawn before the bathtub. She observed how his eyes were closed as he waited for her in there. 

She spotted his phone, wallet and keys near the counter and she reached out, her fingers trembling as she grabbed the device. Just as quietly, she made her way out. She entered his password which was basically her birthday and searched through his contact for that ‘doc’. She hastily sent this stranger’s number to her own phone, deleted all evidence in his phone and made her way back to the bathroom, only to find that this time he wasn’t in the bath. 

“Boo!” She jolted as he embraced her from behind burying his head into her neck as he began kissing her, “God. I missed you, Selena.” 

She felt disgusted. Clenching his phone, she turned around, bringing her arms around his waist and ordered, “Kiss me.” As expected he roughly pushed her against the counter, planting his mouth onto hers and she hastily placed his phone back there, forcing herself to respond to him. It wasn’t the same anymore. Instead of feeling loved, she felt used. She made such a fool of herself by being with him and it pained her. 

He began peeling her shirt when she groaned, “Baby. I need a massage from you.” 

He breathed, imagining her body drenched in that glistening liquid, “I’ll fetch the oil and then I’ll thoroughly enjoy you.” 

She dismissed him, “It’s in my wardrobe. An orange bottle.” Once he turned her back to her and went out, she grabbed his car keys and made a dash to the exit. Of course the elevator wasn't working. Damn it. She ran down the stairs, rushed outside towards where his car was parked. She unlocked the vehicle, breathing hard as she slid inside. 

She jammed the keys in the slot and revved the engine to life. Within seconds, she was driving away from him. She laughed, imagining his face when he would find out that she would not be waiting for him. No more now. She has drunk her pain away for three days, lost herself and now she needed to get back on track because she knew…that all she felt…that woman was probably going to feel worse. 

She clenched the steering wheel. Was it the right thing to do? Three years wasted on that bastard. She gazed at the number in her phone, hesitating to press the green dial. She didn’t want to be the cause for someone’s pain. Maybe…she should just let it go. 

She stopped the car at the side of the road, pressing her forehead against the top of the steering wheel. Crying was the only thing she seemed to be good enough to do these days. She trembled. It wasn’t as easy as she had thought, not when she felt so betrayed, so alone.

She had to talk to someone first…but who? She scrolled down till her elder sister’s number, bit her lips before pressing the green button. She closed her eyes, waiting as if her life depended on it. On the second ring, she answered, “Hi. Veronica Chase speaking. Who—” 

“Hey, it’s me.” There was a long pause on the phone before the woman squealed, “Selena! Hell, is that really you? Oh God. Are you okay? Where are you? I’ll get dad on the phone.” 

She exclaimed, panicking, “Wait! Wait, please… Vee, don’t tell them anything. I just… I just want to talk.” 

“Do you… want to meet? I’m worried sick about you, y’know? It’s been months.” 

“I’m sorry. I know… I don’t want to meet. Please just listen to me?” 

“I am, I am. Tell me everything, sweetheart.”  

~ ~ ~ ~ ~