Sinfully Delicious

18.

Another two weeks slipped by without a word between us, the silence suffocating in its persistence. My life had become a chaotic spiral, and I found myself surrendering to a haze of sleep, wine, and weed. Nutritional sustenance—well, that had long since been a forgotten concept.

Thanks to Pete, a kindred spirit I'd been introduced to through Sasha, the vices I indulged in tonight came at no cost. He was a dealer of the green, and our friendship tangled over bottles of wine and smoke-filled evenings.

Work had become a distant memory—so distant that the arrival of my suspension letter from the job felt like a mere formality rather than a shock. What did it matter, anyway? With each passing day, I slipped deeper into my self-imposed exile, numbed by addiction and devoid of purpose. The rent—that looming beast—grew heavier on my shoulders, compelling me back to Sasha's haven.

Life rolled past in a blur. True to the saying, out of sight could easily mean out of mind. Or so I thought. I had convinced myself I'd forgotten about him, or at least banked on that notion... until the evening Sasha returned home, takeout in hand. We sat cross-legged on her bed, laughter spilling over the television show, when the doorbell rang—a jarring interruption.

"Let me get it," Sasha said, rising before I could even reply. I paused the show and set my eyes on the door, curiosity brewing like a pot on the stove. I caught their voices echoing from the hallway but couldn't discern who was there. Restlessness compelled me to stand.

When I peeked around the doorframe, my breath hitched. Ace stood there, draped in his grey jeans and black leather jacket. The fear the sight inspired was swiftly overshadowed by the sight of Sasha trying to shove him back out. He held his ground, gently pushing her away.

"I just want her to see it; then I'll leave," Ace insisted, his tone disarmingly calm.

The calmness set off alarm bells in my head. Ace was never one to come unarmed and unprovoked. I could feel the tension rising.

"Sash, let him speak," I said, curiosity exploding into urgency.

He thrust his phone toward me, the screen glowing with a damning image: Victor, grinning broadly, an arm wrapped around a woman whose waist he gripped possessively. My stomach knotted as I scoured for a reason to dismiss it, clinging to hope against hope.

"O—okay, so what if he's taking pictures with other women? I do the same," I defended weakly, yet deep down, self-doubt gnawed at me.

"You can love him all you want, but don't be foolish. I didn't come here to fight—just to enlighten you. That woman? It's her baby shower, and your Victor just so happens to be the baby daddy."

With that, he vanished, leaving the weight of his revelation behind more suffocating than the silence I'd settled in. Eight months we'd been together, and if she was indeed pregnant, it meant Victor hadn't just been unfaithful to me—he had been betraying her all along.

I felt the floor drop away beneath my feet. My mouth went dry, and suddenly, gravity folded me into the couch, the air thin and hard to breathe.

"Don't let this get to you. You're strong; you're moving on," Sasha urged, but her words lacked conviction. I glanced at her, the way she avoided my gaze telling me she knew far more than she let on.

"You knew," I said, pushing her away, the betrayal seeping into my voice like poison.

"Zolaj, relax—"

"Don't you dare 'relax' me!" I interrupted, heart racing as I bolted to my room, slamming the door behind me.

Anger boiled within me, each layer of betrayal igniting a wildfire of rage; the very thought of Victor, the humiliation of being the fool, the sting of a friend's silence—it all mingled into a vortex of despair.

"Please, Zoo, open the door. I didn't know how to tell you. I just found out yesterday!" Sasha pleaded from the other side, her voice breaking with the weight of guilt.

I had cried for hours, lost in disbelief, cursing the day I had ever met him. Finally, the emotional storm broke me, and I made a decision. I had to see the truth for myself.

I snatched Sasha's car keys, my hands shaking, and flung myself into the driver's seat. Tears blurred my vision, but it didn't matter—I would drive through the storm to confront Victor. My heart hammered, tangled in memories of his love-filled stares, the warmth in his embrace that felt so genuine. Surely it couldn't be real, could it?

As I stepped into his house, the familiar warmth crashed against the chilling realization of Ace's revelation. And there she was—Annette. The moment our eyes locked, I crumbled again, emotions pouring out in silent sobs as she wrapped me into a comforting embrace.

"Zolaj, I'm so sorry. I thought..." she began, but I interrupted her.

"You knew all along," I spat, stepping back, fury and brokenness colliding within me.

"It wasn't my place to tell you! I thought he would come clean!" Her eyes mirrored the conflict of duty versus friendship.

His fiance. The words echoed in my head, haunting me as I comprehended the weight of my foolishness. I staggered back, nausea rising as I grappling with the reality of all I didn't know.

The walls felt like they were closing in, the pain swirling like a storm in my chest, fierce and unyielding. My heart lay shattered at my feet, fragments piercing deeper than I thought possible.

I couldn't bear it. I turned and left, not even glancing back, desperate to escape the labyrinth of betrayal twisting within me. I needed to be away from here—away from it all.

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