Zephyr's Promise

Prologue

"Another one." I giggle at the bartender. Though it comes out more as a drunk hiccup. Any other time I would worry about the lack of etiquette I am displaying, not tonight. Not after what he's done to me.

With a bright smile the bartender sits another tequila shot in front of me. A sigh escapes me as I think about the absolute bullshit that is my life. These things seem to only happen to me. Every single time my life starts to fall into place a bomb drops on top of me destroying all signs of progress. You know the usual, my job stresses me out, Fenty hasn't restocked my foundation color, and oh yeah, my boyfriend has a wife.

"Long day?" The bartender asks me while passing me a glass of water. He's a literal saint.

"It's been a long three months." I mumble the words. The bartender casts me a pitiful glance that I have no choice but to accept. My current display is nothing less than that. Pitiful. Drinking alone at the bar. What should be the start of a movie where a girl falls in love is my reality without the meeting of a man and love. Right now the only sentiment I share about that is good riddance. Love, or rather the illusion of it only brought disaster. Take one look at me, I would know.

Three entire months I was led on. Ninety days of utter lies and deception. The thought alone is enough to have me throwing back another shot and another after that. How could I be so blind? Was it his charm or charisma that covered the blood colored flags? I have been many things in my life, ignorant has never been one of them. First time for everything I guess.

For him it seemed as if I ripped out my contacts and stomped on my glasses to follow his lead. He swept me off my feet. Made me feel seen by someone who probably would never look my way. For those ninety days I was special. Both of us are from completely different worlds. Somehow he brought himself to mine just to be with me. Made the effort to come to a place he bever would be just for me.

Or so I thought.

Cristiano Russo. The once beautiful name has morphed into something so ugly. So heinous. Accepting him for who he was rather who he pretended to be was a mistake. To me he was attentive. Constantly cataloging me and the things I do to talk to me about them. Aman who engages in your interests to understand you is a rarity. When he did things like that it only blinded me even further.

Many nights we laid in my tiny apartment. His presence made the space feel the size of Texas. Those dark nights he'd lay with me and by early morning he would be gone. Now it all made sense. Before it didn't. Still I took his excuses and held them to my heart like diamonds. In reality all he really offered were cubic zirconia. Lies. Such as the serpent in the garden. Now all I have to show for three months, ninety days, and over a thousand hours are the drained glasses of tequila in front of me.

What does that say about me? Most women cut their hair, earn a promotion, and find someone new to take away their despair. Me, I just sit in a bar alone.

"God, I hate men." I spit out. "All except you." I squeal to the bartender, who in turns flashes a smile. After guzzling down another glass of water and two more parting shots I pay my tab and slip into an Uber.

I had been here well over what I had envisioned. Time seems to speed by when you sit and contemplate all the wrongdoings of your life. Moments where you should have walked away or investigated more become clear. The should have and should have not ring fervently. Whatever I had done so wrong to warrant this hellstorm to enter my life I hoped I had paid for.

The quiet ten minute ride felt quicker than what I would have hoped and I found myself alone in my apartment. Slowly I torture myself with more memories unconvering themselves. Unintentionally they spur without my permission. The crinkling of his nose at something he disliked or the faded mark where he bumped his head building a dresser for me. Three months felt like no time at all and an entirety all at once.

Those memories now marred from knowing that I was a pawn in a game. A game where he had two women bouncing on his shoulder and his clearly favorite body part. In all sincerity what we shared could hardly be called love. The companionship that we had was amicable. We worked together. Two people who didn't make sense in some way made it work. Or that was just a lie. The part that is difficult to swallow, and ultimately what led me to the bar is the thought that what we had was honest. Cristiano was a man of integrity, someone I could trust when there was no one else to. I trusted him as he had become someone I could rely on. That says more about me than it does him. In some ways I brought this on myself. The memories of when it all came crashing down play through my mind.

Talking myself up for the final time I scan over myself one last time. My deep brown skin glowed and smelled of a soft scent. Dark hair fell past my shoulders and my black headband was on tight. Today was the day I am going to surprise Cristiano, it's been a few days since we've seen one another and I miss him, much to my dismay.

I have never been to Cristiano's as it's on the outskirts of town and I lived in the city. It was easier for us to meet at mine as he works in the city. My job as Data Scientist at Bianchi Corporation & Enterprises allowed me to easily find his address. I would have looked in the public records but there are a lot of Cristiano Russo's.

After getting his address my plan was set into motion. Sliding into the car I drive to his home outside the city, my sex playlist played, getting me in the mood for time with Cristiano. Pulling into the estate I'm shocked at the size, the towering story house glistened under the light. The closest home was down the long street. You would have to run just to scream for your neighbor. The pearl colored walls perfectly contrasted the dark lining and doors. 'You got this, he'll be excited to see you.' I root myself on.

Smoothing out the maid themed outfit and tugging up the stockings a bit I slowly walk to the front door. Cristiano was big on role play, and I know this would get him going. Shifting the miniskirt as I walked up the cherry wood steps I take a deep breath anticipating the man of my dreams. Ringing the doorbell I wait in anticipation for the blonde man.The door opens to reveal someone that I am not expecting. Standing in the doorway is a dark haired vixen with creamy skin and the most perfectly angled face. The woman is dressed in dark lounge wear and she surely could give Angelina Jolie a run for her money. My heart plunges to my ass thinking that I possibly have the wrong address.

"Hello," her voice isn't too high or low but a perfect soothing blend. "I'm sorry if you're supposed to start tonight, my husband is out for the next few days."

"I think I may have the wrong address?" I slowly respond.

Her face twists as she thinks about my statement. "Are you sure? Cristiano didn't already interview you this week? Maybe Rosa did." She hums the last part to herself. The only word that sticks out to me is Cristiano's name.

"Cristiano?" I question, trying to remain cool and neutral.

"Yes, my husband Cristiano Russo, blonde hair, twinkly eyes." At her confession my body starts to shake. He has a wife. "Are you alright, you don't look so good. Please come in."

"Oh no, I'm fine, umm yes wrong home I'm going to just go. Thank you for your time." I rush out stumbling down the stairs. Stepping off the last step I trip, rolling over and landing in the grass."

"Oh shit."

"I'm fine-" Things worsened because, of course, the grass stains and aching ass was not enough. Storm clouds rumbled right before rain poured from the sky.

"Do you want a towel or something?" The woman screams from the steps. In response I just wave and limp to my car.

That was the night I learned how much you could believe you know someone but be played by them. When I arrived home I texted Cristiano that he and I should end things because it just wasn't going to work. Maybe, if I pull myself out of the equation he'll focus on his wife. It may be presumptuous and naive, but it's the truth.

After sending the message I blocked him, and regained the thin shred of dignity I still had and moved on.