No Going Back

6.

Hendrix

My life's trajectory changed in an instant - for better and worse, one phone call was all it took.

One call and everything transformed into nothing. My world erupted into a silent chaos, and my mind went numb, but the pain only intensified, settling deeper into my bones as the devastating reality stared back at me.

I was grateful for Floria being there to offer me a hand, or I would've dissolved into that pain right here. Raw pain coursed through me, my heart clenched in a cruel fist, crushed beneath its grip. Then, rage erupted, blazing so fiercely I felt its scorching heat searing my eyes and body.

I left Floria's hospital room, my words barely escaping a mouth that felt sewn shut by the betrayal that still echoed in my ears.

As I stepped out, I spotted the man I thought was a friend to the woman who mattered most to me. Fury took hold, and I grabbed his collar, slamming him against a nearby wall. Even outraged, I reminded myself: we were in a hospital, and I was still human.

"I'm sparing you only because I respect Floria too much to cause her any more trouble. But next time we meet, you'll be the one who'll be needing a hospital." I clenched my fist and punched the wall beside him, ignoring the blaze of anger in his eyes as I turned to leave.

He showed no defensiveness, but I didn't care. My sympathy was for the woman lying in that hospital room, his wife, who suffered both emotionally and physically at the hands of this heartless creature that can't be referred to as human.

As I drove to attend to urgent matters, my broken heart felt like it was crying out for help from within my chest. It was as if it was beating its final beats, struggling to survive, and desperately needed oxygen to sustain what little life remained.

My thoughts then shifted to the woman who was enduring even worse pain, and the fire within me subsided. I slammed my fists on the wheel in anger, realizing I hadn't even asked about her baby, who was likely fighting for its life after her premature birth.

For a moment, despite the hectic pace of my day and the urgency of my actions, I felt helpless and useless. Worse still, I felt like a fool who had naively fallen in love with Samara. Doubts crept in, and I wondered if I had unintentionally pushed her to this point. But when I reflected on our past and my actions, I realized I had never once said no to her, never once failed to prioritize her needs over my own.

I'd lost count of the times Samara asked me to do things that made me uncomfortable or weren't my usual preferences, but I still did them for her. I consistently stepped out of my comfort zone and went above and beyond to fulfill her requests.

Just as I was about to get hauled to the depressing pain once more, I shook myself out of it. I parked my car a distance from the apartment building and prepared myself for doing the right thing, then stepped inside.

I changed the digital passcode and removed Samara's identity acceptance from the system as I walked in. Then, exhausted, I slumped down by the mini bar counter that Samara had wanted, a ridiculous reminder of all the things I had done for her.

Alcohol was never my source of pleasure, and Samara was the drinker, choosing what we drink if she was home, but for the first time, I felt like I needed a stiff drink to knock me out and escape the pain. However, I knew I wasn't that person. I was someone who faced things fiercely, never putting off later for what I could do now.

It was mockingly cruel how easily yet deeply cheating could destroy you. I couldn't shake off the images that haunted me. I would've never thought, even in my worst nightmare, that Samara would cheat on me. I knew she was straightforward and unfiltered, but I never knew it would lead her to lose sight of the difference between cheating and loyalty.