Regret

DANTE'S POV

Surrounded by the dim glow of the bar, I found myself drowning in a sea of alcohol. The bitter taste seemed to match the bitterness that gnawed at my insides. Betrayal had become a familiar companion, and the woman I had trusted with my heart had effortlessly torn it into pieces.

The concerned bartender, a distant voice in my alcohol-soaked haze, expressed worry about my excessive drinking. "Lad, are you okay? You've had too much to drink. Is everything alright?" he asked, his eyes reflecting genuine concern. In response, I offered only a drunken smile and raised my glass in a futile attempt to drown out the torment within.

A familiar hand gripped my shoulder, anchoring me in the midst of my intoxicated stupor. It was Jake, my best friend since childhood. With his  blonde hair and the aura of a simple guy, Jake ruled a distant kingdom and was rarely present in my life ever since he was coronated . However his ability of drinking without succumbing to intoxication was only matched by his reputation for failing to keep his affairs in check.

"You're going to kill yourself before your time," Jake remarked, a mix of worry and understanding in his eyes. Irony hung in the air as I retorted, "That's ironic coming from you." Despite the distance that often separated us, Jake had answered my call, He traveled miles away to comfort me , and this shows the we share is a bond that time and distance had failed to sever.

As I sat there, the alcohol providing a temporary refuge from the storm of emotions within, the betrayal echoed in the recesses of my mind. How could Elena, the woman I had held closest to my heart, turn her back on our love? The very thought gnawed at my soul, and the pain seemed to get more and more unbearable.

My mind raced through memories, searching for a reason or a sign that could have forewarned me of this heart-wrenching betrayal. How could she have ripped apart the trust we had built? The echoes of laughter, shared dreams, and whispered promises now felt like cruel illusions.

The numbness from the alcohol couldn't dull the sharp ache of betrayal that I felt. I questioned everything, wondering if our love had been a facade, a fleeting illusion that crumbled when faced with the harsh light of reality. The intoxication failed to erase the images of her and what she did , shoving the freaking pain deeper into my wounded heart.

As Jake's concerned gaze met mine, his words about self-destruction continued , but I didn't care . In that moment, it felt like I was already going to die, torn apart by the very person I believed would stand by me.

" How could Elena betray me like this huh ? Tell me Jake.... Tell me. ""

The question lingered, haunting my intoxicated thoughts, and the pain of the unanswered questions echoed in the dimly lit bar.

"How sure are you that she did it?" Jake's question cut through the fog of alcohol-induced confusion, demanding a degree of certainty that seemed elusive.

Turning toward Jake, my eyes heavy from the intoxication, I erupted into laughter that mirrored the chaos within. "I'm sure of It, I saw it with my own two eyes. I'm not a fool Jake, and I will never be."

The vivid memories of Elena's act of betrayal were on repeat, playing over and over again in my mind. An overwhelming force that prompted me to rise from my seat.

With a primal instinct, I hurled an empty bottle against the wall, relishing the satisfying crash as it shattered into a thousand pieces.  I laughed out loud like a maniac.

"It was all a lie," I confessed, the bitter taste of realization on my tongue. The promise  I made to myself and my mother about finding the angel I loved  from my past had turned into a regrettable choice, a decision now haunting me like a relentless specter.

The love I believed was pure had crumbled, leaving behind the debris of broken promises against the cold, unforgiving wall. In the haze of alcohol, the clarity of my mistake mad me feel like a fool , like a useless human being.

No , nobody , absolutely nobody can make a fool out of me.

"Have you tried talking about it with her? Maybe it was a mistake," Jake suggested, his concern evident in his eyes.

"Mistake? Nobody, I repeat nobody can treat Dante Galatinov like a piece of crap," I retorted, the bitterness in my voice echoing the wounded pride.

Conflicting emotions churned within me – a part of me urging me to trust her, to believe she could never commit such an act, while another, fueled by the damning evidence, left no room for doubt.

Could it really have been a mistake, a misunderstanding? The thought lingered, flickering like a fragile flame against the relentless storm of betrayal that raged within.

"Bring me another drink!" I commanded desperately.

"No, Dante, no more drinks for you," came the firm response, a voice of reason trying to penetrate the fog of intoxication.

"Let me drown in my alcohol and sorrow," I laughed, a bitter echo of my shattered reality. Shame hung heavy in the air as my friend helped me walk on my wabbling legs.

Closing my eyes, all I saw was Elena's betrayal replaying like an American horror show. The blurry vision made it challenging to discern reality, but I felt my friend guide me towards my hotel.

"You'll spend the night with me at the hotel," he declared, a compassionate gesture. He would nevereave me alone especially in the state I was in.

The following morning arrived with a throbbing head and a severe hangover. Glancing at the clock, its digits spelling out the ungodly hour of 4 am, I found myself tangled in the aftermath of a night that offered no peace or escape from the torment within.

Feeling the side of the bed, I hoped to find Elena beside me, I was used to waking up with her by my side , a subconscious yearning that clashed with the reality of betrayal. The emptiness that met my touch was a stark reminder of the shattered dreams and the gaping void left in her absence , I don't know why but I missed her .

Sitting up, I surveyed the unfamiliar room, a question mark etched on my face. How had I ended up here? The events of the night before seemed like a blurry scene  of emotions and alcohol, leaving me with fragmented memories and unanswered questions. Sinking back into my bed , I remember I was supposed to be home , Elena must be worried about me, why wouuld I care anyways.

Despite the dizziness ok increasing, I managed to get up and stumbled my way to the bathroom for a refreshing shower. An extra pair of clothes, likely left by Jake, awaited me, and I dressed, leaving a brief note for him expressing my departure.

Arriving home at 6 am, the house felt veryy quiet. As I stepped inside my room , I couldn't help but cringe inside.

There she was, Elena, peacefully asleep, seemingly untouched by me not being around. She even had the guys to sleep comfortably and pretend like nothing had happened.

The creaking of the door stirred her awake, and her eyes met mine, a silent acknowledgment of my return. In that moment, the lines between victim and perpetrator blurred, leaving me to confront the woman who had become an enemy .both a source of comfort and the architect of my heartache.

"Good morning, my sunshine," I said and planted a peck on her cheek in order not to let any suspicion get to her .

Before she could question me, I quickly explained, "I'm sorry I didn't sleep here. I had a lot to do, and my phone died. I wasn't able to reach you, and I decided to spend a night at the hotel."

Why the hell was I even explaining myself to her ?

I wasn't even looking forward to staying with her at all.

"It's okay, I understand," she said, forcing a smile , though not entirely thrilled.

After a quick change if clothes , I was heading out. "You are going out again?" she asked.

"Yes, my love," I replied. "Tonight, I will be late. Don't wait for me, just sleep. I will join you when I get back, okay?" I kissed her forehead and left, leaving her with a mix of emotions .

.

"It's high time I made things right," I said, instructing the driver.

"Take me to Elena's old house," I ordered, and the driver agreed, navigating through the familiar path toward her previous residence.

I arrive at Elena's old house and approached the door. A knock, and soon it swings open, revealing Antonia's emerald green eyes, reminding Me of Elena's captivating gaze that blended green and blue.

"Dante?" she asks in surprise, a quick scan for Elena's presence evident in her eyes.

"Come in, come in," she gestures, and I follow her inside.

"You should have told me you were coming. I would have..." Her sentence trails off as I pull her into a kiss. There was a momentary pause before she responded to my kiss

The kiss was different and tasteless, lacking the magical touch of those shared with Elena. Elena's lips are soft, sweet, and send waves of heat through my core. With Antonia, none of that happened.

Our kiss was abruptly cut short by a cough, and there stood Silvia, Antonia's mother.

"What's going on here?" she questions, her eyes flickering between Antonia and I .

Holding Antonia's hand tightly, I meet Silvia's gaze with determination.

"I'm here to rectify my mistake," I declare, my voice unwavering. "I, Dante Galatinov, would love to make Antonia Martinez my wife."

As I considered the implications of my decision, a storm of doubt brewed within me. Am I truly making the right choice, or is this a misguided attempt to mask the void left by Elena's absence? Uncertainty nags at me, but my ego takes control, drowning out the hesitant whispers.

We delved into further discussions, sealing the details of this unexpected alliance. Everything was settled and Antonia was going to be my wife. I leave with Antonia, allowing the weight of my decisions to settle around m.

Is this the path I want to tread? Am I acting on genuine emotions, or am I allowing pride to dictate my actions? Elena's lingering image tugs at my conscience, but I push it away, opting to follow the course I've set

As the discussion concludes, I  noticed that Antonia couldn't help but feel an exhilarating rush of joy. The prospect of a future with me must have seemed  almost too good to be true considering I wasn't ready to be with her . like a child, she  gathered my belongings, her face brimming with happiness.

In an attempt to spark and engage our connection, she approached me with a flirtatious voice laced with seduction.

"Dante, my love, imagine the incredible moments we'll share. I can make your worries vanish, and together, we'll create a world of bliss."

Despite her efforts, I remained distant. My gaze carried certain emptiness, and there's an unspoken pain in my heart. It seemed like the weight of my decision overshadowed any attempts at seduction, leaving her with an uneasy sense of doubt.