Heartbroken

Shame overwhelms me as two men in black and a white earpiece connected to their left ear grab each of my arms and drag me away the minute my palm connects to Oliver’s cheek.

Between the feeling of betrayal and disgrace, I don’t know which one is stronger as I scream at Oliver and kick my feet with all my might as I am taken away like a criminal at my own boyfriend’s engagement party to my adopted sister.

Pain claws at my heart as hot tears stream down my blush-patted cheeks. I don’t think I will be getting over this treachery any time soon, especially watching Brenda lean her frail body on Oliver while directing a victorious smirk my way.

I am helpless as I get kicked out of the hall and the double tall wooden doors shut in my face with pairs of wandering eyes from the passer-byes in the corridor on me.

I need a drink before I kill someone and end up in jail so I flag down a cab outside. After a restless long ride of fifteen minutes, the driver pulls over in front of the exclusive XX Club. I pay him and get out without tipping.

I walk into the building and make my way straight to the bar to take the only empty stool amid the loud music blasting through the speakers and sweaty bodies dancing behind me.

I stare down at my dress and feel anger wash over me. Having seen Brenda dressed in a faux feather mini red dress makes me rethink whether brown was actually Oliver’s favourite colour as I can’t help but think that he claimed so to make a fool out of me.

“What can I get you?” A bartender stops in front of me with an unwelcoming smile. I guess I look that awful from all the crying and bitterness swelling in my chest.

I order one glass of raspberry Tequila Sangria for starters before placing my second order; a glass of Martini for soft landing. By the time I’m on my fifth glass of cocktail, the world around me starts to spin.

My Dad will be disappointed and my Mum will give me an earful and compare me with Brenda, her well-mannered daughter. I don’t want to go back home, and as if sensing my predicament, one of the bartenders comes to my rescue.

“We offer rooms for a night in case you are looking for where to rest your head, or shall I call you a cab?” He asks.

I lift my head to make out his facial features but the entire image in front of me is blurry, so I don’t persist further.

“I need a room, please,” I reply too smoothly for someone who can barely see a thing; one of my practiced tactics so I don’t get taken advantage of.

A few minutes later, I’m at the lounge area where I request a room at the front desk. I manage to give out my necessary details before swiping my card to pay. I don’t hear the rest of the words the receptionist says to me, but I nod and thank her regardless as I take my room keycard from her.

Somehow, I get into the elevator and swipe my room card on the scanner before taking a trip to the ninth floor.

I find it difficult to locate room 919 written on the card but once I do, I place it on the scanner outside the door and let myself in.

The room is almost pitch-black with a little moonlight coming from the gap between the curtains.

“Good thing I can do without the lights,” I slur as I get my shoes off my feet and take off my earrings while literally stumbling on my way to the bed.

A sigh of relief escapes my lips as soon as my back hits the mattress but the moment I shut my eyes I hear a soft groan by my side.

It doesn’t take long before a pair of strong arms circles my waist and draws me into a warm muscular embrace.

“Ah!” A yelp escapes my lips and before I can muster another sound, a pair of scorching lips comes crashing down on me as I’m forced to swallow down the remaining sound.