Chapter 2 It's you!

The karaoke bar was dimly lit, its neon signs flickering lazily in shades of purple and blue. The place had an old-school charm, with its worn leather booths, sticky floors, and outdated pop songs playing in the background. Despite the slightly shabby atmosphere, the place was a sanctuary for those who didn't want to be seen-perfect for Emelia.

She pushed through the door, her movements sluggish, still reeling from her earlier confrontation with Damian. The weight of his words pressed heavily on her chest, suffocating her. She had spent too many nights drowning in heartbreak, but tonight, she needed something stronger. Something that would silence the pain, even if just for a moment.

The bartender, a tall man with a sympathetic face, spotted her immediately as she approached the counter. His brow furrowed at the sight of her swollen eyes and the way her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Rough night?" he asked softly, already reaching for the whiskey bottle behind the counter.

Emelia nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "You have no idea..."

He slid the drink toward her, the amber liquid sloshing gently in the glass. "On the house tonight. You look like you need it."

Emelia's fingers curled around the glass, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She managed a weak smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks... I do."

She took a long sip, letting the burn of the alcohol spread through her chest. The bartender leaned in slightly, his voice low. "You know, Emelia... it's been a while since you've been here. I thought things were getting better."

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Better? No. They're worse. Much worse." Her voice was barely audible as she muttered, "what was I even thinking?"

He frowned but didn't press further. He'd seen enough broken souls come through those doors to know when not to pry.

Just then, a young man approached her with a slight bow, holding out a key card. "Miss Emelia," he said, his voice soft and unsure, "your room is ready. I'll show you the way."

Emelia nodded, draining the rest of her drink before standing. Her legs wobbled slightly from the alcohol, but she steadied herself. She grabbed the bottle the bartender had left for her, thanked him with a small nod, and followed the young man down the dimly lit hallway.

The air grew colder as they walked, and the distant sound of muffled singing filled the narrow corridor. The walls were adorned with old concert posters and dim blue lights that flickered occasionally, casting long shadows.

When they reached the door, Emelia stumbled slightly, the weight of her emotions finally catching up with her. Without warning, she broke down into sobs, her shoulders shaking as she stood before the young man.

"I-I'm sorry..." she choked out between sobs. "I just... I don't know what to do anymore... I've tried my best! I tried to be a good wife! A good daughter in-law! W- why? Why proceed with the marriage if you were going to torture me?" she sobbed as snot stained her already reddened face.

The boy froze, his eyes wide in discomfort. He wasn't sure how to respond. "Uh... it's okay, Miss Emelia," he stammered, shifting on his feet awkwardly. "I-uh-hope things get better?"

He turned to leave with an awkward expression on his face. "Marriage isn't necessary. Why jump into it blindly?" he sighed as he glanced at the duplicate key number in his hands. Right as he was about to excuse himself, he suddenly collided with something hard-or rather, someone-solid and imposing.

A bulky figure stood before him, blocking the narrow hallway. The boy swallowed hard, stepping back as he looked up at the man. He had seen him a few times before, lingering around the bar, always watching Emelia from a distance. He didn't know much about him, but something about the man made his skin crawl.

"I... I didn't mean to..." the boy started, his voice trailing off as the man's gaze fell on him.

The bulky man raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "What's the situation?" His voice was low and authoritative, a deep rumble that made the boy stiffen.

The boy lowered his gaze, his hands fidgeting nervously. "She hasn't been here in over a month. I thought maybe she'd fixed things with her husband, but... seeing her now, I guess things didn't turn out well."

The man's expression darkened slightly, his jaw tightening. He hummed in response, his gaze drifting toward the door where Emelia's muffled sobs could still be heard.

"Leave," the man commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

The boy nodded quickly, backing away. "Yes, sir."

Without another word, he turned on his heel and hurried down the hallway, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't know who the man was, but he had a feeling it was better that way.

The bulky man stood in front of the door for a moment, listening to Emelia's quiet sobs on the other side. His expression softened for the briefest moment, a flicker of something almost tender crossing his face. But then, just as quickly, his eyes darkened, hardening with resolve, anger and something similar to hatred. "That bastard!" he mumbled under his breath.

He opened the door quietly and stepped inside. The room was bathed in soft, blue light, and Emelia sat slumped on the leather couch, her bottle half-empty on the table beside her. Her face was buried in her hands, her sobs now quiet whimpers as a song played in the background.

He watched her for a moment, his presence unnoticed, before finally speaking. "Emelia."

She froze at the sound of his voice, her heart skipping a beat. Slowly, she lifted her head, her tear-streaked eyes locking onto the figure standing in the doorway. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of him, her mind spinning in disbelief, fear and horror.

"It's you..."