2. THE GROANING FIRST NIGHT

Jela

My mom was greeting the guests, along with my dad. Thank god. They didn't start the river of their tears to flow in the name of pretending. I was too exhausted to take that shit right now. People sang, drank, and ate for what? For my marriage which I was so sure seem like my funeral.

Someone hugged me from my back. I immediately flinched at the sudden touch.

"Jela, it's me." My mom said, shock visible in her eyes.

"You alright?" She asks, searching my eyes.

I nod my head, stepping back from her embrace. She looked concerned as she must be.

I think I swept my hair back, her gaze fell on my neck. "What happened here?" She asks, raising her hand to touch it. I winced in pain and took another step back.

"Why don't you ask your husband?" I snap.

She immediately looked around to find if anyone are watching us. And once again, she put her reputation before him. When she looked back, her eyes were filled with apology.

"I don't know what to say." She whispered, dropping her head down. Her hands lightly rub her silky beige dress. She looks younger than her age in that sleeveless dress and make-up. She looks beautiful. Does she know that she is getting ready for her daughter's greatest misery when she was putting on them? If she did, did she give a damn?

"How about you tell me why you came here instead of being with the guests?" I ask her sharply.

"I know, Jela." She takes my hands in her and squeezed them softly. "I know that you are angry with me. You even hate me."

"I don't," I tell her. "I don't hate you anymore. I feel nothing for you anymore. For any of you. From today, you will see me move on."

I took my hands from her, "Thank you for releasing me from that jail and sending me to another one."

I left her there to her own thoughts. There was a time I loved her, there was a time I needed her, I was disappointed in her, and I hated her. But after this, I don't think I wanted to see her again. She abandoned me. What kind of mom does that?

As we started to descend the stairs, people cheered for us. Bash has been smiling uncomfortably. As much as he mastered the skill of hiding whatever he felt, he couldn't smile for the people's sake. What a shame!

"Bridal bouquet." Everyone shouted when I rushed towards the limo without throwing the flowers back. I forget that there is this cursing thing to do.

"Catch this, marry and ruin yourself," I muttered.

Bash abruptly turned his head to look at me. He might have heard it. I can't help it. That's what I feel about this marriage, and he has the right to know it. He didn't say anything. So I throw the bouquet in the air. I don't know who caught it. But a woman squealed, which means she is so excited about her marriage.

God blesses you.

The contact-lens guy before me has been typing something on the laptop. From the time, the limo started, he hasn't spoken a word. I prefer it that way too. But I am curious. If this marriage is nothing but a deal, I would like to talk to him about the divorce. I know it's too soon. But the sooner the better.

The limo stopped before a spacious, ornate, and high-rise apartment. This contact-lens guy took his phone out and dialed someone. If Violet sees the way he kept his phone at his ears, she will brag about it for another year. I could easily say that this guy was reeked of money and power. His demeanor shouts authority.

"Ismail, please come out and escort Miss.."Then he stopped looking at me. "I mean Mrs, Jela to my apartment." He continued. "No, no. I have a lot of work to complete."

Then he hung up the phone. He didn't give me any instructions or details.

The driver, Ismail, who is almost fifty years opened my door. "Let me escort you to your home, dear." He smiled warmly. I was tempted to correct him by saying that it was not my home. But he got the most genuine smile I have ever received today. So I let it pass.

There were people to carry my dress before. Now I was no more at that place, I lift my dress to ascend the stairs. Ismail tried his best to help.

It's over. The thing I tried to avoid all my life is now over. I am married. And I am walking to a new place alone. Soon, it started to rain. Ismail immediately sprinted towards the apartments to bring me an umbrella. I watch the limousine speed up and a few people around me look at me with pity eyes. Who won't? After all, I am a newly web bride, left alone in the rain by her husband.

"Hurry, my child," He says, rushing me towards the shelter.

"Ismail," I called, grabbing his coat. He turned around to look at me. "Can we not run, please. I am so exhausted. My body is aching." My voice is frail. It doesn't sound like me. But it did because that's what I am, what I have always been.

"But the rain."

"It's fine," I tell him.

He nods in understanding and kept the umbrella above my head, making sure that I was not wet even though he is soaking in the harsh rain. I know I should walk fast so that he won't be soaked. But I am too occupied with my thoughts. The pain in my chest increases with every step I took towards the apartment.

"It's okay," I tell myself. "It's not the end of the world."

I clutch my dress at my chest, "You will be fine." I tell myself. "You should be."

"Your luggage has already reached. And your phone is along with your bag." Ismail informed me.

I nod my head and finally reached the apartment. It was on the fifty-eighth floor. It was nothing like the apartment I used to live in along with my friends. This one is a lot like a few hotels I visited in her childhood during my relatives' weddings. Everything is black here. It was luxurious. Somehow, his apartment looks like him- simple, perfect, hideous, and sophisticated.

Rich dude, after all.

When I was inside, they were already two women waiting for me. The first thing I noticed is my school uniform. They both are wearing my school uniform, only their skirts are pencil cuts. They were of black and white combination. I don't know if they are maids, beauticians, or hair stylists.

Before I entered the house, they were so excited. Once they saw me, the sparkle in their eyes slowly faded. Well, my hair is wet, the lower part of my gown is soaking, and I lifted that in my hands to stomp on the floor. And they noticed the running shoes.

Unlucky fellows.

They smiled clumsily.

"Good evening, Mrs. Merrick. We are here to help you get dressed for the event." One of the ladies said.

I looked around to search for this Mrs.Merrick they referred now. Then it hit me, I might be that Mrs. Merrick. Eww. I don't like that surname.

"So, are you sure? It's Merrick?" I ask them.

They look confused. "You are Mrs. Jela Merrick. Right?" They asked. I sighed. What kind of surname is that?

"Unfortunately I am," No matter how much I don't want to be. "I am not aware of any kind of event."

The ladies blushed at my words. The last time when I checked, I am a girl, and my flirting skills are so poor that I can make a guy run for his life if I tried to flirt with him. I don't know what made them blush like that.

"The event after a wedding, Mrs. Jela. Your night. Your first night."

My heart skipped at their words. It wasn't because of what they said, it was because of what might happen. I knew this moment would come. Now, I don't know where the store room is here to hide.

"Why do I need to get dressed? If it's for the night, I don't see why do I need to get ready. Your time will be wasted just to throw them all. Isn't that how this night works? Clothes will be stripped, mascara will be slashed, and the lipstick too."

They nodded their heads uncomfortably.

"Just show me where you arranged this first night."

They led me upstairs. I was guessing that there was his bedroom. When I opened the door, many candles welcomed me. The room smells divine. The bed was decorated with rose petals in the shape of a heart. The way to the bed is paved with flowers too. I remembered all their scientific names- Just some medicos things.

"Did that contact- lens guy ask you to do this?" I questioned them.

Once again they looked at each other in confusion. "Contact- what?" They asked in unison.

"I mean, did Sebastian ask you to do this?" I rephrased. If it's him, he paved his way to hell.

"Umm.., Actually, Mr. Moore asked us to prepare this. This was supposed to be a surprise for the newly-wed." One of them explained.

Oh. Sebastian is not paving his way to hell soon. "Okay. You may leave now." I told them.

Who is this Moore dude anyway? I didn't ask them. They have had enough confusion tonight.

Once they were gone, I quickly ran downstairs to where my luggage is kept. Strictly speaking, it wasn't my luggage at all. It was a few dresses and things my mom thought I should have for formality to prove that my things were still at their house. She may have shed a few tears while loading the luggage for the world to see how hard it was for her to let me go.

I rummaged through the entire bag. Not even a single pair of decent clothes, it contains.

"Violet." I groaned, cupping my face with my hands.

All I find in the bag are lingeries, see-through bras, and panties. God, I am so damned.

I took my phone out. There were several missed calls from Nora, Ridge, and one message from Violet. It read, like my present? A winking emoji.

I tossed my phone away and searched for one thing I needed the most- my knife. Once I found it, I took it upstairs and lay on the bed filled with petals; my hands clutched the knife tightly.

Several thoughts started to rush into my head. I pushed them away. I can't deal with them right now. I have to survive this night. Then I'll deal with everything once and for all.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I walked slowly toward her to see what she has become. She doesn't look naive, she looked rebellious, but she is not strong. "I hate you," I tell her as she repeated the same with me. "I hate you." I pick whatever I could hold with my hand and squeezed it. I rubbed my reflection in the mirror with the pastel blue colored cream, leaving stains on the mirror while controlling the tears. "I hate you," I whispered again.

I don't remember falling asleep. When I woke up, I saw a man holding a knife. It looked familiar. I know those hands, calloused and veined. He is playing with the knife. He has no black suit on. His white shirt is see-through. The effort he puts in the gym daily is so obvious. Apparently, the rain troubled him too. He is wet. If it is his hair or it's my dream, he looked like a boy now. Not like the man I saw before.

"Jela?" He called which sound like an echo.

I abruptly got up and scooted back in fear. My breathing become hard as I saw my weapon in his hands.

"Give me back my knife," I said. "Or else," I looked around and took a candle on the bedside table, "I'll burn this place." I threatened him.

"Why are you being hysterical?" He asks coolly. How can he be so calm?

"GIVE ME MY KNIFE," I ordered him stressing every word.

He tossed the knife in the air and caught the sharp edge. Then he extends his hand to give the knife so that the holder is towards me.

No thanks, I won't cut myself if the sharp edge is towards me too. I know how to use it.

"This is my bed." He said.

God, at least, he is not trying to touch me.

"How am I supposed to know that?"

Silence.

As much as it hurts my pride to ask questions, I have no other options. "Do you have another room?" I ask him.

"Downstairs, to the left." He answered.

I was relieved at his words. He clearly doesn't want me here.

I lift my dress again and push myself off the bed with great effort. I haven't had anything to eat the entire day. It takes everything in me to walk, especially from a very soft bed.

"Why is the bed wet?" He asked me.

"Because I was soaked in the rain, because an as... because someone left me in the rain," I answered. I have to constantly mind my language if I don't want to get into trouble.

"You should have changed. You got some pretty dresses there." He muttered to himself which my ears didn't fail to listen.

He might have seen the clothes in the living room. Why the hell did I forget to put them back into the suitcase? Shit, Jela.

Yet, I glared at him.

"Isn't that what you have to do. Put on red lingerie and wait for me?" He asked. I could sense the disgust in his voice.

"I would have. If it were a man, I would have. But I don't like boys who are not man enough to do things straightly and fairly."

I felt so proud of myself for throwing the ego blasting dialogue.

I didn't know what's his reaction as I turned around to leave the room.

"What's that?" He questioned. I turn my head to look at him, pointing to the mirror, exactly at my reflection where I rubbed the cream.

"I hate her," I replied and stomped downstairs.

After a few minutes of fidgeting, I came to the conclusion that I can't sleep in this wedding gown. With great frustration, I took out the money from my wallet, pull up my dress, and stomped upstairs.

I knock on his door. He was wearing a T-shirt when he opened it and as Violet said, he does have abs that can be easily traced out through his t-shirt, but I am not sweating.

"What?" He asked.

I looked at his eyes, they are still bluish-grey. He hasn't taken out the contact lens.

"Lend me a pair of pajamas. I gave him the money I brought. "Let's say I am taking them for rent."

"And why would I do that?" He asked; his eyebrow crooked.

"So that I won't burn this house when you were asleep."

He released an exasperated breath. I am sure he groaned in annoyance before he walked into his room. When he returned, he has clothes in his hands.

It worked!