HER WORTH ✓

48~I Knew I'll Regret It!

Habiba's POV:

"Good evening; please, where is the hotel's bar located?"

"Evening ma'am, welcome to Milestone hotel, the bar is by the left wing, on your right." The receptionist replied.

"Okay, but where is the left wing? Which way would lead me there please?"

"Just go forward; there is a signpost that will lead you there."

"Thanks." I smiled.

The hotel was very massive and filled with a lot of people.

Most of the visitors were either rolling their suitcases into the hotel or out of the hotel and to my surprise, most of them were foreigners, which made it feel like I was not in Nigeria but in a foreign land.

Thanks to the cleaners around who were busy scrubbing and cleaning every inch of the hotel made it look sparkling clean.

I had reached the bar's gate when I realized I'd been running from the receptionist's table to the bar.

Taking a breath in, I rushed into the bar to see a crowded bar filled with men and women in skimpy wear, the whole place also reeked of alcohol, and that made me feel nauseous; the combination of cigarette smoke and liquor did spoil the air. The blaring song in the background was also loud enough to deafen anyone's ear, but I guess they were used to it; I watched them sway their hands and hips dancing.

I wrapped my palms around my nose with the back of my palm to avoid inhaling the smell of cigarettes while I glanced around.

Beautiful girls in short dresses paraded the whole place; they were either smoking, drinking, dancing, or flirting with men, and that proves how shameless they were.

I almost crashed into a waiter when I caught Mr Charles's gaze.

"Mr Charles?!" I gasped running to him.

"What happened to him? Why is he here and drunk?"

"Welcome, ma; I don't know how he got into this state; I was only phoned by the bar's manager through his emergency line; that's why I had to inform you."

"I'm glad you did, thanks." I heaved a sigh of relief gazing at the wasted man muttering some strange things.

He staggered towards me, about to fall, but I quickly held him.

I could say I was more relieved to find him alive, coz the way Mr Charles had informed me about him made me assume he was in some sort of danger.

"Najib," I muttered, tapping his face gently; he pulled me closer grabbing my waist tightly; his eyes looked red, heavy and intoxicated.

"It's you... My village wife, when did you arrive?  Your talks got stuck in my head all this time? We're you with Abdul? Zaitun got angry because of you earlier... He kept talking randomly and I had the urge to slap his mouth shut, as every word he says oozes, his breath stink of alcohol; I couldn't bear the smell when I pulled him away.

"Why did you drink so much?"  I sighed but he only laughed.

"It's coz of you, why are you doing this to me? Why do you get into my head so much?" He said, pulling me back into his arms. I struggled to free myself but he held on, now coming close to my face.

"Mr Charles, please help me, let's take him out of here." And just when we were about to leave, a man approached us.

"Excuse me, ma'am." He was averagely dressed in ripped, saggy jeans, a fly-open shirt and boots.

What is he? A madman? I say in my head while judging his whole look. I guess that's the new fashion.

"Yes, may I help you?"