2

2

EMILY'S POV.

My heart went into a slow beat, and it seemed like everything had stopped. Maybe I was the only one who stopped.

John, who smiled like the sun...

John, who saw only me...

John, who couldn't wait for us to get married.

John, who watched old movies and made cliché statements because I knew I loved them.

John, who swore to give his everything to me...

John, who was on the bed, groaning and cloaked in the shiny fabric of perspiration, was before me.

The girl's hair shielded her face as she continued to let out soft cries, and it was only when I staggered backwards that they stopped.

John pushed her off him frantically, and she rolled off the bed to the floor, grabbing the sheets and covering herself with them.

My heart seemed like it was about to explode with each beat.

I tried taking deep breaths, but I couldn't deny the hot tears that wanted to come running down.

"Emily." He called with a cracked voice, and I looked at their clothes on the floor, strewn in different places.

It had been a night of passion for him, while I had been thinking only about him as I used my evening to prepare his favorite meal.

"I hate you." I whispered, although my voice broke.

I turned around and ran out of the room. My body buzzed with electricity, filled with shock from what I had seen.

John… John… Was it a dream? My john? My John, who was mine alone?

"Emily, Emily… Emily, I'm sorry. Wait, please." He called after me, running without clothes on.

I ran, grabbed my bag, and dashed out the door. There was no way he'd follow me while he was still naked, and before he got clothes, I'd be long gone.

I ran out onto the streets, and when I saw a taxi, I flagged it down hurriedly.

In the movies, I had always gotten irritated at girls who ran when they saw their partners cheating. I'd always shout at them to tear the partner's hair apart and scream at them, but right there, watching John, it felt like the world had ended.

Everywhere felt pressed in and suffocating. I had wanted to leave the place so I could gather my thoughts.

Finally, for once, I understood the women in movies who always ran. I couldn't face that horrible sight without breaking down.

"Ma'am. Where would you like to go?" The driver asked as I got in.

"Anywhere. Just keep driving on the streets. I'll… I'll pay you whatever you want." I said, and my tears came crashing on my laps. My tears ran as fast as a stream, as it seemed like needles pricked my heart.

How could John, who I had loved the most in the world, do that to me? Hadn't he loved me? All his promises... Since when has he been sleeping with another woman?

Before the preparations for our marriage? After? Where has it all gone wrong? Where!? The driver saw my tears and did as I asked, without saying a word.

I wiped my tears furiously, but more of them continued to crash down, filling my eyes quickly and leaving just as fast.

My throat closed up, and it took crying out loud to open it. It was embarrassing, and I didn't want to cry in the taxi, but I had invested too much of myself in John. It was just too hard to think of the innocent love I had given to him freely, being laughed at by the lady riding him.

Since when has he been cheating on me? Ever since he met me? After we made love for the first time,  When did we get engaged? Recently? Tonight?

I sobbed loudly and hard and choked on my own tears. A headache took over my forehead, and my face turned red, but I didn't stop. With all I did, with how I had loved him, he had repaid me with betrayal.

After being driven around for close to two hours, I had stopped crying. Instead, I leaned against the car door, with the breeze drying my tears and pushing back my hair.

Those hands—those hands that had caressed my face—held her atop him. Those eyes that gazed at me lovingly had gazed at her lustfully.

"Sir," I called.

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'd like to get off here." I said, taking out everything I had in my wallet. It was a lot for a driver to make in a day, not to mention two hours, but I was grateful for the ride and the fact that he let me cry without staring at me or trying to speak.

I got out of the car and handed the money to him.

"Here, sir."

"No, no… you can…"

"It's fine." I said, taking his hand and pressing the money into it. "Thank you, sir." I added and turned away, walking slowly to wherever I could get to. The streets were unfamiliar, and I knew I was far away from home, but I didn't care.

The thoughts still roamed in my head, and I longed to just thrust my hand into them and pull them out, but of course, I didn't.

I stopped and sighed, then my eyes fell on a bar, and I began to walk towards it immediately. It was exactly what I needed. After all, when people get drunk, they can't think of or feel their pain anymore.

I got in and found the place almost empty, except for a lone figure sitting far away from the door.

The bartender looked at me, and a bright smile lit his face.

"Welcome." He greeted me, and I walked towards the counter and took a seat there. "I thought we were done with customers already. Do you need a room for the night, too? We offer hotel services." He said that, and I looked out the door. I hadn't noticed.

"Um…"

"What would you like to drink?"

"Any alcoholic drink will do."

"Okay… You seem a little down, but I'd advise you not to drink too much." He said it cheerfully.

"If you went through what I did, you wouldn't say that." I said to him, and he smiled as he mixed drinks.

"What happened? There's no better thing than baring out your thoughts to a complete stranger who doesn't know you or the people around you." He pointed this out while making me a cocktail.

"You're right. Even if I curse at him, you wouldn't be able to tell him, and you'll probably never see me again, so even if you think I'm pathetic, you wouldn't think too much about it."

"Of course, although I doubt you'd be pathetic. So tell me, is it a man?" He asked, sliding my cocktail to me gently.

"You seem like you know already. Of course, it's a man. A… A… jeez, it's hard to curse at him. I can't even do it." I said that and bit my lip.

"He cheated?" The bartender asked, and I looked up at him with eyes that definitely resembled a puppy's. "You don't have to say it." He added.

It was exactly what I was grateful for—that I didn't have to say out loud that John cheated.

I opened my mouth to say something, but instead, I took the glass and downed it all.

He offered more, and I drank it, trying to get drunk and forget about it all quickly.

"He... honestly, I never thought..." I took the bottle from him and drank directly, as my tears threatened to cloud my vision once more.

"Here." He handed me another glass, and I drank it too. My face felt hot. Maybe it was my tears or the drinks; I didn't know.

"That should be enough." He said, leaving his position behind the counter to come to me, but I wanted to keep drinking; I didn't feel drunk.

"No! I want to kill him; I want to kill John." I sobbed and sniffed.

"You're drunk. You should sleep." He said that, pushing me to my feet.

"Is this what being drunk feels like? It's not enough." I said, staggering, as I tried to stand on my own.

"You can't." He said this, moving me further to the staircase, which seemed dark in the blue light.

"I…" I tried to stand again, but he came behind me and wrapped his arms around me. He was too close, too. "You're…" I was saying, but he didn't let me go; instead, his hands moved, and my drunken eyes snapped open.

He had placed his hands directly on my chest.