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Imani stumbled through the dimly lit streets, the weight of the night pressing down on her chest like a vice. Her thoughts were muddled, tangled up in a haze of alcohol and heartbreak. She didn't know how long she had been walking, but her legs felt heavy, her feet unsteady on the uneven pavement. All she knew was that she couldn't go home—not while Trent was still there.
Her apartment was no longer a sanctuary. After their fight, Trent had decided to stay until the international break was over, making it clear that they couldn't live under the same roof in peace. The thought of going back to see his face, to be reminded of everything she had lost, was unbearable. So, instead, she wandered, the cold air biting at her skin, but it did nothing to sober her up.
She swayed as she reached the park, the one near Jude's place. It was eerily quiet, the benches empty, the streetlights casting long shadows on the ground. Imani stopped in front of a bench and sank down onto it, burying her face in her hands. Her phone buzzed in her pocket again, but she didn't bother to look at it. She knew it wasn't Trent. He had made it clear that they needed time apart. And even if it was him, what could she say? What was left to say?
She pulled her knees up to her chest, her heart pounding in her ears. The alcohol wasn't dulling the pain like she had hoped—it was amplifying it, twisting it into something unbearable. She needed a way out, a way to escape, even if just for a little while. Her thoughts drifted to Jude. He had always been there for her, hadn't he? Always a steady presence, someone who never judged her, no matter how much of a mess she made.
Before she could second-guess herself, she stood up on shaky legs and began walking again, heading in the direction of Jude's apartment. The streets were blurry now, her vision swaying as the alcohol took its toll, but she knew the way. She had walked this path before, countless times, but never like this—never in such desperation.
By the time she reached Jude's building, her hands were trembling, her heart pounding harder with every step she took toward his door. Without thinking, she knocked, leaning heavily against the doorframe, trying to catch her breath.
A few moments later, the door opened, and there he was—Jude, looking startled to see her in this state. His eyes widened in concern as he took in her disheveled appearance. "Imani? What the hell are you doing here? It's late. Are you okay?"
She tried to speak, but her words came out in a slur. "I—I couldn't go home. Trent... he's still there. I couldn't... I just couldn't." She blinked, her vision swimming as she stared at him, her emotions all over the place.
Jude stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in. "Okay, come on. You're freezing. We'll talk inside." He closed the door behind her, watching as she stumbled into his living room. "Imani, you're drunk."
She let out a bitter laugh, collapsing onto his couch. "Yeah... maybe a little too much, huh?" Her head was spinning, but she managed to look up at him, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. "I didn't know where else to go."
Jude sat down beside her, a mixture of concern and frustration in his expression. "You shouldn't be wandering around like this. What happened? Why didn't you just stay at your place?"
She shook her head, burying her face in her hands again. "Trent's still there. He's staying until the international break is over, and I can't—I can't be there with him. Not after everything."
Jude sighed, leaning back against the couch, trying to piece together her scattered words. "So, you just walked around all night? Imani, that's not safe."
Imani laughed again, the sound bitter and hollow. "What's the point of safe when everything's already falling apart?" She glanced over at him, her eyes lingering on his familiar face, and something inside her shifted—something reckless and broken. She wasn't thinking straight, and the alcohol was making her bolder than she ever would have been sober. Without warning, she slid closer to him, her hand resting lightly on his arm.
"Jude," she whispered, her voice low and unsteady. "I just... I don't want to feel like this anymore. Make it stop. Please."
He tensed, his brow furrowing as he looked down at her hand. "Imani... don't. You don't want this. You're just upset and drunk."
But she didn't stop. She moved even closer, her fingers trembling as she reached up to touch his face, her breath warm against his skin. "I don't care. I just need to forget... everything. Just for tonight."
Jude caught her wrist gently, his voice firm but soft. "Imani, you're not thinking straight. This isn't you."
Her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him, desperation pouring out of her. "Please, Jude. I can't go back there. I can't go back to him. I can't be alone."
The room was thick with tension, and for a moment, Jude hesitated, clearly torn between his loyalty to her and his better judgment. But before he could respond, the front door opened, and Jobe stepped in, freezing at the sight in front of him.
Jobe's eyes darkened, his jaw clenched in disbelief. "What the hell is going on here?"
Imani's heart dropped as she scrambled back from Jude, the reality of what she had just done hitting her like a freight train. "Jobe, it's not—"
But Jobe cut her off, his voice cold. "Not what it looks like? Really?" His gaze flicked to Jude, anger and disappointment clear in his expression. "You, of all people, Jude? While she's like this?"
Jude stood up, holding his hands up defensively. "Jobe, it's not like that. Imani's drunk, and she's hurting. I wouldn't—"
"I saw enough," Jobe spat, shaking his head. "You need to get her out of here before things get worse. Imani, you shouldn't be here."
Imani felt the room spinning again, but this time, it wasn't just the alcohol. It was the crushing weight of everything she had ruined, the guilt gnawing at her insides. "Jobe, I'm sorry... I just didn't know where else to go..."
Jobe's expression softened, but his voice remained firm. "I'll take you somewhere safe. Let's go."
Imani nodded weakly, her legs barely able to support her as she stood. She avoided Jude's eyes, too ashamed to face him. Everything had spiraled out of control, and now there was no undoing the damage she had caused.
As Jobe guided her toward the door, Jude stood in silence, his face a mask of regret. Imani knew, as they stepped out into the cold night, that she had crossed a line she could never uncross. And in trying to escape her pain, she had only created more.
