FLAWLESS

CHAPTER 19

Shanelle POV

The pulsating music reverberated through the dimly lit club, mingling with the haze of smoke and laughter. I leaned against the wall outside the washroom, my gaze fixed on the closed door, my expression blank and void of any emotion. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as I waited for Vincent and Lina to finish their fucking session.

Finally, the door swung open, and Vincent stepped out, his face contorting with shock as his eyes met mine. 

"Shanelle?" he called out, his voice filled with uncertainty. 

I directed my glare towards Lina, who followed Vincent, a smug smile playing on her lips. She looked between us and chuckled, her voice dripping with mockery. 

"Good luck dealing with that," she taunted Vincent, before strutting away in her high-heeled boots, leaving us alone in the midst of the chaos.

Taking a step closer, Vincent attempted to bridge the gap between us, but I held my hand up, halting him in his tracks. His confusion and concern were evident, but I wasn't ready to let him off the hook so easily. Anger bubbled within me, and my voice seethed with frustration as I unleashed my torrent of words upon him. 

"So, this is what you've been up to right after I told you I needed time and space to think about us? You fucked your so-called fiancée even though you claimed there was nothing going on between the two of you?" I yelled at him, the intensity of my anger palpable.

Vincent wiped his nose with the back of his hand, his eyes dazed and stared back at me. 

"Look, Shanelle, whatever happened in there was a mistake, I promise," he pleaded. 

"I've had too much to drink, and one minute I thought she was you, and the next thing I knew, she was there with me... I don't know what happened."

A sarcastic laugh burst forth from my lips as tears welled up in my eyes. My voice quivered as I poured out my pain. 

"Do you really expect me to believe that bullshit? I hate you, you know that?" I choked back a sob, my disappointment and regret seeping into every word. 

"I regret ever liking you, thinking you were actually different. I regret saying yes to going on that date with you, but most of all, I regret knowing you."

Vincent's hand extended towards me, seeking comfort, but I pushed him away forcefully. 

"Don't touch me!" I yelled, my voice laced with anguish. 

His quiet voice cut through the tension, barely audible. "You don't really mean that... do you?"

Glaring at him, I nodded, my gaze unwavering. 

"No, actually, I do. And I should have never trusted you or believed all the crap you told me that night." Vincent sighed in frustration, running his fingers through his hair. 

I watched him, my heart heavy with disillusionment. His words came out in a quiet admission. 

"I'm too wasted right now to think straight or convince you that whatever happened with Lina was a mistake. I deeply regret it."

Shaking my head in disappointment, I stepped closer to him, locking eyes with his troubled gaze. My hand pushed against his shoulder, demanding answers. 

"What'd you do that for, huh? For fun? Do you enjoy messing around with girls that much?" I pushed his shoulder again, frustration driving me forward. 

"Is it one of your twisted hobbies? To play around with other girls' feelings and then go running back to your fiancée, pretending you didn't do anything wrong?"

Once more, I pushed against his shoulder, harder this time, my voice trembling with hurt. 

"Answer my question, Vincent! Do you feel satisfied after lying to a girl's face, leaving her heartbroken, and then going back to fucking your fiancée? Do you?!" A punch escaped my fist, landing solidly on his chest. 

Vincent gripped my hand, his eyes softening toward me as he whispered, 

"It was a mistake. I'm sorry."

Pulling my hand away, tears streaming down my face, I continued to glare at him, my voice laced with determination. 

"Don't ever come near me again. You and I are done." 

And with those final words, I turned on my heel, storming off into the night, my resolve firm as I left the shattered remnants of our relationship behind, not once looking back.