Chapter 3 Wrapped

Chapter 3

Night had fallen, yet I was still busy in my office, buried in paperwork. It was dark outside, and I could see through the office window that employees were slowly leaving for the day. But I remained busy, engrossed in my work.

"You're not going home yet, Clea?" Karen peered through the office door.

Her eyes held curiosity and understanding.

I averted my gaze and shook my head slowly. "No, I still have papers to read and sign," I replied. "You go ahead..." I added.

She entered my office with her confident demeanor, fixing her gaze on me and giving me a look full of sinister intent.

"No! Stop working, and we'll go clubbing!" She forcefully slammed the table, startling me.

To hell with this woman!

I looked at her with a mix of awe and bewilderment, while she continued to glare at me with intense hostility. She quickly grabbed the computer mouse from me, turned it off, and started tidying up my disheveled things on the desk, placing them all in my bag.

She huffed and wiped the sweat forming on her forehead. Irritated, I massaged my nose and watched her eagerly organize my belongings. I knew she was dead serious.

"Get up from there, Clea, or I'll drag you out myself," she sneered.

I slowly stood, taken aback by her aggressive behavior. I stood on the desk, still watching her as she meticulously arranged the scattered papers. She shouted excitedly, "There, I'm done! Fix yourself while I organize my things on my table." She gave me another disdainful look and hastily left my office.

My gaze followed her until she disappeared from sight as the door slammed shut. I was sick and worried about how strange my friend had become.

"Clea! Come out or I'll drag you out!" she yelled.

She peered through the door again, her eyes rolling as usual. Seeing that I still hadn't moved, she forcefully dragged me out.

"My bag, Karen!" I protested, yelling at her.

There was nothing I could do but let my friend lead me. She took me to a popular bar in Duma.

The place was buzzing with activity, filled with neon lights and people dancing and swaying to the fast-paced music. The loud cheers echoed from table to table. I even spotted some couples engaging in passionate kissing in the dim corners of the bar.

"What's the matter? Are you going to stare all night?" Karen loudly asked me, but her words were drowned out by the heavy music.

Unable to hear my response, she pulled me towards an empty table. I looked around the place once again, realizing that I had missed this chaotic atmosphere. The loud roar of the music helped momentarily distract my troubled heart.

Sometimes, when your mind is in turmoil, you need to go far away to find tranquility and rest for your weary self. But what I needed was a loud crowd that would make me forget the monster I had to deal with when I got home.

Karen looked at me again, raising her eyebrows as if asking me what she should order for me since she had the menu in her hands.

"A bottle of tequila will do," I sluggishly said.

She quickly ordered it for me: "We should eat dinner before drinking. Would you like menudo?"

Despite not wanting to eat that night, I nodded in response to her question, knowing that she wouldn't leave me in peace with just the tequila.

She called the waiter, placed our order, and he attentively left to process it.

As the night grew deeper, people continued to withstand their intoxication from the excessive alcohol. The place became livelier as most of the people started swaying and dancing to the loud music.

On the other hand, I enjoyed the bitter taste of tequila as it slid down my throat. Its bittersweet flavor made me feel dizzy and drunk.

Karen snatched the glass that was supposed to be my next drink. "I brought you here to enjoy, not to get wasted, Clea."

I laughed and snatched my drink back. If this were my last day on Earth, I would drown myself in vain for the love that brought me nothing but misery.

"I am enjoying it, Ren. Can't you see?" I acridly replied.

She let out an exasperated sigh, rolled her eyes, and glared at me. Then she turned away and started swaying her hips joyfully as the music enveloped the entire place.

"You're drunk!" she shouted angrily, but I laughed loudly, which only frustrated her more.

"Let's dance!" I shouted at her, pulling her up and making her sway her hips along with me. The boisterous crowd cheered as we danced our hearts out.

She looked at me, gasping for breath, and gently brought her mouth closer to my left ear. "Miguel will kill us if he sees us here."

"He won't. He already killed me a long time ago. I'm sure he's busy enjoying his night out at some club with some whore," I replied, understanding what she said and continuing to sway to the rhythm. "He won't. Let's just enjoy ourselves!"

I shouted and then returned to our table, pouring another round of tequila. I watched Karen as she walked back, and in my peripheral vision, I saw her stumbling.

"Hey, Cleopatra. Should we order another bottle?" she slurred, lazily sitting in front of me and swiftly grabbing the bottle to take a sip.

I shook my head, annoyed. "No, that's enough. I'm as tipsy as you are."

She nodded lazily and finished the remaining liquid in the bottle. Damn! That was supposed to be for me!

I was tipsy, but I was still aware of my surroundings. I knew I could still drive, even in my dizzy state, and I could take both of us home.

I pulled Karen, who was leaning on the table and seemed to be falling asleep, up and tapped her shoulder to wake her up. She turned around, pushed my hand away from her shoulder, and slumped back onto the table.

"Karen Abigail. Let's go home. I jolted her again. She opened her eyes drowsily, gave me an angry look, and suddenly stood up, causing her to stumble and fall onto the table.

Thankfully, I managed to guide her through the bar's parking lot, despite her ranting and mumbling incoherent words. We were true friends, both going crazy when drunk! We babbled about all sorts of things.

"Clea, You should leave Miguel. He has many other women; shouldn't it just be you?" she half-opened her eyes and spoke to me from the back seat, but I ignored her. Karen tended to say all sorts of things when she was drunk.

The sun was rising by the time I reached home. I accompanied Karen to her apartment and made sure she was taken care of before leaving. I felt relieved knowing that her landlady was there and would look after my intoxicated friend.

The porch of our house was dimly lit, the gate was unlocked, and our room was illuminated. I was certain Miguel was already asleep at this hour.

I cautiously entered the house. The entire living room was dark, and I took slow steps towards the kitchen because I was thirsty.

"Where have you been?"

I shrank in fear as a deep, baritone voice asked me. Suddenly, the entire house was lit up, and the light enveloped the room, revealing the cold, piercing gaze of the monster before me.

I trembled in nervousness as I saw the darkness in his eyes. I took a step back as he approached me.

"I-I..." I couldn't find the words to explain.

Should I even bother explaining? Was there any point? Would anything change if I told him why I was drinking? Would he love me again, care for me, and nurture our relationship?

I sneered. "We should rest, Miguel."

I turned away from him and quickly made my way to our bedroom. I scanned the room before lying down, and to my shock, I saw a woman's clothes on our bed.

Tears started streaming down my face as reality sank in. There was another woman. He had brought another woman into our house, into our own bed.

Damn it! How could he do it in our bed? Why here?

A creaking sound from the opening door caught my attention. I saw him become alarmed when he saw me holding the dress in my hand. I knew it wasn't mine. I didn't wear provocative dresses.

"How dare you fuck someone else in my bed, Miguel? I angrily snapped at him.

I slapped him, and he retaliated with his gaze, snatching the dress from my hand and throwing it into the nearby trash can.

"You should rest, Clea. You're drunk," he said, massaging his temple in frustration, his eyes filled with deep animosity. I quickly took a step back, and I could see the difficulty in his eyes as he looked at me.

"Clea, why are you drinking?" he gently asked when he noticed me taking another step away from him.

When the person you love continuously inflicts pain on you, the trauma remains forever. The bruises may fade, but the wounds caused by their hurtful words leave a lasting impact. No matter how many ointments or remedies you apply, the trauma remains.

If I told him the reason why I was drinking, would anything change? Would he understand? Would he love me again?

I shook my head and quickly made my way upstairs to our bedroom. The entire room was engulfed in darkness, but I didn't care. I changed the bedsheets and pillows, removing any trace of the despicable act that had taken place. I saw Miguel out of the corner of my eye, standing by the door, motionless.

I turned to face him and raised my middle finger before quickly hiding under the covers. I heard him groan, but sleep had already taken over, and I wasn't aware when he wrapped me in his warmth.