You're delusional

She walked blindly back into the room and sank into the bed, her body slumped and motionless. An eerie stillness enveloped the room, broken only by the sound of her own labored breaths and the occasional sound of cars passiing outside. Her knuckles turned white as she clenched the white sheets, allowing a tear drop to fall freely, leaving a wet trail behind. The air was heavy, heavy with fragments of their broken bond that threatened to take her life with a thousand cuts. Her eyes were now red and swollen, but the tears refused to heed her call.

She shut her eyes tightly, as if trying to force out the last drops of her pain, but she knew there had nothing left - just emptiness. She turned her head sharply and stared blankly at the bed they once shared. It was still warm from his lying there just moments before. She couldn't believe that everything she had invested in their relationship was now shattered into pieces that she now scrambled to hold on to. Their final conversation echoed in her head, and the hurtful words he had uttered rang in her ears - in her mind, each stabbing her harder than the last. She winced, her hands trembling as she tried to force them away, but they clung to her mind like an earworm.

"What happened that night was a mistake and we were both drunk. So don't try to use that to trap me."

"The promises you made were mistakes as well? Was I a mistake? Everything we shared over the past six months was a mere 'mistake'? " She asked, her voice shaking with anger and disbelief.

"Quit the pretence. We both know you are only after my money. After all, you are just a lowly waitress at a night bar. Besides, I'm engaged." He replied, his words cutting through her like a knife.

"You are what!? So the rumours were true?" She slowly moved to grab his clothes, but he shoved her hands away, like he was afraid she would contaminate him.

"I loved you," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. Her trembling hand reached out, fingers trembling as if searching for an anchor. "Before I knew about anything else, I loved you for who you were. I believed that you loved me too, but now... now I don't know what to think anymore." Her voice cracked, a vulnerability seeping through her words. She whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Love?" He questioned, his tone laced with amusement. "I never loved you. I just wanted to have a nice vacation and you came by. How could I have let go of such an opportunity? Who loves someone they met in six months? I only wanted to have fun. I didn't ask you to force yourself into my bed, so stop playing the victim here." The crisp sound of a slap echoed through the room as she glared at him with anger and resentment in her eyes.

She didn't know what hurt more, the fact that he had never loved her, or the realization that she had been nothing more than a passing fancy to him.

"I'll forgive you for that because I assume you're shocked by what just happened. Otherwise, I would have made you regret your actions." He said with a lethal tone.

"What? You're shameless enough to raise your hands to a woman now?"

He brought out a wad of cash from his bag and threw it on the bed. "Use that to fix your life. You should leave here as soon as possible. I don't want to be associated with you and I don't want my reputation to be ruined. So please, just let me be."

'As if he had any reputation to speak of,' she thought bitterly.

"I don't want your money Kunle! What do you take me for? Someone who sells her body for money? A whore?" She yelled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I don't care about what you are. As far as I'm concerned, you're nobody to me, just a random girl at a bar. I have a flight to catch and you are delaying me with all of this drama." He groaned with a frown as he took quick strides out of the room.

The memory of their first meeting came flooding back to her. She had been working at the night bar, serving drinks to patrons, when she had caught his eye. He had come up to her, flashing his million-dollar smile, and asked for a drink. They had struck up a conversation, and before she knew it, they were exchanging numbers.

Their relationship had been a whirlwind from the start. They had spent countless hours talking on the phone, getting to know each other on a deeper level. He had promised her the world, telling her that she was the most important person in his life. She had believed him, completely and utterly. He'd asked her to come over to his house, amd despite her previous experiences with men, she went because she trusted him completely. They had spent numerous weekends together just cuddling on his sofa amd watching movies.

Her colleagues had noticed the change in her demeanour whenever he was around and they soon discovered their relationship. The more she had thought about it, the more her anger grew, until she felt like she was about to explode. She stood up, her fists clenched at her sides. She thought she knew what she had to do. She couldn't just let him walk away from this without a fight. She had to make him see that what they had was real, that the love they shared was worth fighting for.

She ran out of the room, not caring that she was still in her pyjamas. She had to catch him before he left. She raced down the hallway, her heart pounding in her chest until she finally reached the lobby. There, she had seen him standing by the entrance, his suitcase at his feet.

"Wait!" she had called out, panting for breath. "Please, don't go! Don't do this to me. I gave you everything I had. You were my first. Please, don't do this. We can forget that all of this happened. Please, don't go.." She had begged with tears streaming down her face, a part of her surprised by her actions.

He had turned around, a look of annoyance on his face. "What exactly do you want ehn? I have a flight to catch."

She walked up to him, her eyes blazing with determination. "I want you to stay," she said. "I want you to see that what we have is real, that the love we share is worth fighting for."

He scoffed. "Love? Don't make me laugh. What we had was nothing more than a fling. A mistake. I'm engaged. You were just a distraction."

She felt a pang of hurt at his words, but she refused to let it show. "I don't care about your engagement," she said. "I don't care about your reputation. All I care about is you. And I know that what we have is real. I can feel it in my bones."

He rolled his eyes. "You're delusional."

"Think about everything that happened these past months and tell me you didn't feel anyth...."

"No, I did not." He said coldly, interrupting her.

She had fallen to the ground as she felt the tears she had been holding flow down her face endlessly. Those four words were enough to shatter her completely. If she had any hopes of them getting back together, they disappeared at that moment.

As he picked up his suitcase, she saw guilt in his eyes. But it disappeared as soon as it came, making her think it was only a figment of her imagination. He had walked out the door, leaving her alone to pick up the pieces of her broken heart.

The piercing sound of shattering glass shattered the stillness, jolting her from the clutches of agonizing memories. Anger, hurt, and humiliation swirled within her as she stared at the shattered remnants of a once-intact cup, a stark symbol of her own life. With an abrupt surge of resolve, she picked herself from the bed and stormed out of the building, not knowing where to go or what to do next. The city streets were harsh and unforgiving, just like her reality. She wandered aimlessly, her mind clouded with despair. She wrapped herself in a cloak of shame, her body hunched as she dragged herself through the streets, fueled by an overwhelming need to escape, that pushed her toward an unknown destination.

---------------

Ewa stood at the bar, eyes shut tight as she downed the mysterious liquid from the shadowy bottles. The bartender had promised it would numb her emotions, but in that hazy moment, she couldn't even recall her own whereabouts.

Her gaze swayed from side to side, and she stumbled onto the dance floor, clad in her black jeans and t-shirt. It wasn't exactly the most fitting attire for the venue, but it was all she had. Her appearance did not matter to her, for the person she longed to dress up for couldn't bear the sight of her anymore. She scrolled through her call log, impulsively sending a text message to the number that appeared most frequently. Then, with an unsteady sway, she made her way to the pulsating rhythm, surrendering her body to the intoxicating beats. Some men had stopped dancing with their partners to stare at her. Hers was not the beauty you get to see everyday- and although she was showing zero skin, they still admired her curves and tiny waist as she danced around.

As Ewa danced, lost in her own bubble of thoughts, a man approached from behind, his hand grasping her waist. She smiled, continuing her dance, much to his delight. She was certain he would come back to her. She knew that despite the names he had called her, he couldn't live without her, just as she couldn't live without him. But as she turned to face him, her heart sank at the unexpected sight.

Yet, in her drunken state, she decided to go with the flow of the night. The man smirked, triumphant in having secured the prize everyone desired. His hands roamed freely, exploring her body in unimaginable ways. Ewa tried to resist, but her intoxication left her with little defense. Fortunately, their encounter was abruptly interrupted as a lean figure yanked the man away.

The man grumbled, frustrated that the captivating beauty had been snatched away. He turned to confront his assailant, delivering a punch to the face, igniting a brawl between the two. Oblivious to the chaos surrounding her, Ewa sluggishly made her way to a couch, settling down and fixating her gaze on the entangled figures on the floor. The music ceased, and others scrambled to separate the dueling men.

"If she's your girlfriend, why didn't you tie her to your bedpost?" the first man spat, wiping his bloody lips. It seemed he had suffered more damage compared to Tofunmi, whose face bore only minor injuries.

"Regardless of her role in my life, what you did was wrong! You openly harassed her," Tofunmi retorted.

"It's fine. Both of you better end this now, or I'll call the cops," someone interjected, attempting to defuse the escalating tension.

"No problem, we were leaving anyway," Tofunmi conceded, striding toward Ewa's petite form on the couch. He lifted the slumbering girl into his arms and stormed out of the dimly lit bar. Hailing a taxi, he carefully placed her inside before joining her for the ride.

By the time they reached his residence, Ewa had regained partial consciousness, her mind slightly clearer. He assisted her out of the vehicle, and she followed him like a puppet, her steps guided toward his front door. With a key, he unlocked the entrance, ushering her inside. She settled into one of the chairs in his spacious apartment, her gaze unfocused, staring blankly into space. He couldn't help but wonder what had brought her to such a desperate state.

"Thank you for coming to get me," she murmured, her voice half-awake.

"Ewa, what were you thinking?! What if something terrible had happened? What if that man was a kidnapper or worse? What if you hadn't texted me? Are you out of your mind?" Tofunmi snapped, taken aback by the volume of his own voice.

"Yes, I am out of my mind. I am! And who are you to judge? You're just a colleague at work. Don't think that because I consider you a friend, you can dictate my actions!" she screamed, her annoyance boiling over.

"Ewa, I'm sorry for..."

"Sorry for what? What exactly are you sorry for, Tofunmi? You weren't the one who called me a whore... So what..." Her voice trailed off, tears streaming down her face. In her fragile state, she wrapped her arms around herself, seeking solace on the couch.

A bewildered Tofunmi cautiously approached the double seater where she sat.

"I... I..."

"You don't have to say anything," she muttered, her voice interjected by hiccups.

"I would have asked you to tell me what happened, but I'm sure you don't want to talk about it. I just want you to know that I'll always be here, okay? I hate to see you like this." Tofunmi said, inching closer, his hand gently resting on her arm.

She locked eyes with him, her gaze flickering between his disheveled appearance, evidence of the recent brawl. She sighed, burdened by guilt.

"You shouldn't have come. Look at what that man did to you. I'm not even worth this fight. Why do you even care?" She turned to face him, her tears mingling with her sorrow.

"Because I... Because you mean a lot to me," he confessed, conflict etched across his features.

"I do?"

Rather than answering, he leaned in, placing a tender kiss on her forehead. She stared at him, wide-eyed, her mind flooded with memories of how she and Kunle had spent their first night together—an eerie similarity. This time, however, it wasn't Kunle. Startled, she recoiled as if his touch were a scorching flame. He regarded her with concern, his gaze searching her face.

"Is something wrong?"

"I want to go home."

"Alright, I'll walk you there."

He hurriedly changed his clothes, and soon they embarked on the journey to her apartment just a street away. An awkward silence enveloped them, and Tofunmi struggled to break free from its suffocating grip while he continued to chew silently on the gum in his mouth.

"Are you angry? Because of..."

"No, I'm not. I don't want to talk about it," she interrupted, her voice cutting through the silence.

Tofunmi felt a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment, but he held his tongue until they reached her front door. She waved her farewell, about to step inside when she retraced her steps toward him. She embraced him for a moment, inhaling the mint scent of his gum before releasing her hold.

"Goodnight," she whispered, offering a sad smile. Sobriety had mostly reclaimed her, and he felt relieved that their bond remained intact.

"Yes, you should take a shower. You smell, ma'am."

"How dare you!" she squealed, playfully hitting his chest while giggling.

"You look even more beautiful when you smile. I'm not a fan of crybabies."

"Don't come begging me for assistance tomorrow," she retorted, walking away.

"Hey, will you be alright?" he called after her, pulling her back to face him.

"Of course. Now go home."

"Goodnight," he replied with a tinge of melancholy, watching her disappear through the doorway, leaving him alone outside with his hands in his pockets. As soon as she was out of sight, a hostile frown creased his brow and he spat out the now tasteless gum, starting on his way home.