I paced the floor restlessly. It had been almost a week, and I hadn't heard a word from Ethan,my fiancé. He hadn't come to my house, hadn't returned any of my calls. It was as if he had completely ghosted me.
I picked up my phone and dialed his number again.
"Hi, this is Michael. Leave a message."
The call went straight to voicemail.
I sighed, my voice soft but strained as I spoke into the receiver.
"Hey, babe... I've been trying to reach you for days now. You haven't returned any of my calls. Please, just call me back."
I sent the same message as a text and then sank onto the couch, my eyes fixed on the screen, hoping it'd light up with a reply.
But it didn't.
After nearly an hour of agonizing silence, I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed my coat with a rush of frustration and worry, determined to find out what was going on. Whether he was avoiding me intentionally or not, I needed answers.
I got into her car and drove to his house, my stomach knotting tighter with every mile.
With a shaky breath, I stepped out of the car, walked up the front porch steps, and reached for the door-on the verge of pulling it open, when something stopped me.
A sound.
"Ahhh... baby... harder."
The moan drifted through the crack in the door, low and breathy. I froze. The voice was familiar. Too familiar.
My heart pounded as realization hit.
Debbie.
My best friend.
Then came Ethan's voice.
"You're fire."
Another moan. The unmistakable sound of skin slapping against skin.
My stomach turned.
I stiffened, heart pounding in my chest like a drum. The heat rising in my body wasn't desire. It was rage.
With trembling hands, I grabbed the door handle, hesitation freezing me for half a second... until another breathless moan shattered the last thread of my restraint.
I shoved the door open.
And there they were.
Ethan. My fiancé.
Debbie. My best friend.
Entwined on the couch in a tangle of sweaty limbs. Moving, gasping, moaning-so lost in each other they didn't even notice me at first.
My breath caught. The sight burned into my eyes.
My stomach twisted. My heart shattered into a million pieces.
They were completely naked. No shame. No guilt. Just lust.
Then Ethan looked up.
His face drained of color.
Debbie screamed and rolled off him, tumbling to the floor, yanking a throw pillow in a weak attempt to cover herself. "A-Anora-!"
Too late.
The damage was done.
My eyes flooded with tears, but my voice was steel. "Don't stop on my account. I wouldn't want to ruin the show."
I turned on her heel.
Whatever they were saying behind me, my name, excuses, stammered apologies, I didn't care.
I didn't stop neither did I look back.
I was too blinded by the storm of betrayal crashing through my chest. Rage, heartbreak, humiliation-to register a single word of their nonsense.
Let them talk.
Let them panic.
I was done.
My heels echoed sharply against the floor as I walked out, each step fueled by pain and fury. I slammed the door shut behind me like a final punctuation mark on the end of everything.
I sat in my car and slammed my fists against the steering wheel, screaming every filthy word I could think of. The tears poured down my cheeks in hot, bitter streams, my vision blurring as the full weight of betrayal crushed me.
Then I saw him.
Ethan.
He was walking toward my car, mouthing something-maybe my name, maybe another excuse. I didn't care enough to hear. My heart pounded violently in my chest, and before I could even think, I started the ignition and slammed my foot on the gas.
The tires screeched against the pavement as I surged forward.
He jumped out of the way just in time.
Good.
I didn't know where I was going. I didn't care. I just needed to get away from everything-him, her, that house, my shattered life.
The night had fully descended by the time I pulled over. The dim glow of streetlights cast long shadows across the road, and I found myself parked in front of a small, tucked-away bar.
Perfect.
I wiped my tears as best as I could, trying to make my face look less like a wreck. Then I walked in and slid onto a stool at the bar.
"One beer," I said, my voice hoarse. "Something strong."
This wasn't like me. I didn't drink. Not really. But tonight? Tonight, I needed it. I needed something-anything-to drown the ache in my chest.
My phone buzzed again. And again. And again.
Message after message lighting up the screen.
Ethan. Debbie.
The two traitors.
I didn't even open them. I turned the phone face-down and took a long sip from the cold glass.
All I wanted now... was silence.
Then Ethan's name flashed across my screen.
My chest tightened, the ache behind my eyes threatening fresh tears. I didn't want to answer. I shouldn't. But some stupid, broken part of me still needed to hear him out-needed closure.
With trembling fingers, I picked up.
"Babe... please, can we talk?" His voice was soft, almost desperate. "I can explain."
I let out a bitter sigh, my voice cold and sharp. "What could you possibly have to say?"
"Just... let's meet up and talk, okay? I didn't-"
"Get lost, Ethan," I snapped, fury burning in every word. "You cheating bastard. I can't believe I ever gave my heart to someone like you. You're disgusting."
"Anora, please-"
"I hope she was worth it," I hissed. "I hope screwing my best friend was worth losing me and I wish you both a happy life together."
Without waiting for another word, I hung up and tossed the phone aside like it was tainted. My hands were shaking.
I waved at the bartender. "Another one. Make it strong."
I needed to drown in something. Anything other than my own misery.