Drunk In Love (Crushing Hard Series Book 3)

Dear Dairy:29/04/2019

Monday night

At lunch, I sat with Thuli and Vuyiswa, desperately trying to engage in their conversation despite the turmoil brewing inside me. They were animatedly recounting the time they caught their significant others cheating, the stories dripping with betrayal and hurt.

“How did you know he was cheating?” I asked Vuyiswa, trying to distract myself from the whole kevin thing, which had been eating away at me.

“It’s so obvious. Men are idiots. They don’t know how to hide it. They just lose interest in you, and you just know,” she said, engrossed in her sandwich, blissfully unaware of the knot tightening in my stomach.

That’s when it clicked for me. Back in February, Kevin and I had that massive fight. He stormed out and didn’t come home that night. The next day, we had an even bigger blow-up, and I still had no idea what happened or where he had slept. I had pushed it aside while dealing with everything else, but now it resurfaced like a dark shadow. Things had to make sense. If a guy tells me something, it has to add up, and something wasn’t adding up. I kept my thoughts to myself, letting the unease fester.

Thuli and Vuyiswa finished their lunches and left, leaving me alone with my swirling thoughts. A few minutes later, Scott joined me. My heart raced as he pulled out a chair and sat across from me. Even though he was a good distance away, I could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“What’s wrong, Thandi?” he asked, taking a bite of his sandwich, his gaze piercing through my defenses.

Even the way he chewed was captivating, the muscles in his jaw working in a way that made me forget everything else. Is it normal to take perverse pleasure in watching someone eat?

“Nothing. Just work stuff,” I mumbled, suddenly feeling shy, as if eating in front of him was too vulnerable.

“I can tell something else is bothering you. What is it?” he pressed, his expression earnest.

I forced a laugh, trying to mask my turmoil. “Nothing. That was it.”

“Thandi, one of the things I love about you is your inability to hide anything. Your face always betrays how you truly feel,” he said with a smirk.

“…Things I love about you…” I repeated silently in my head, trying to decipher the weight of those words.

He laughed when he saw my expression, and I could only imagine what emotion my face had betrayed.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant you can’t hide how you feel. You’re like an open book. So tell me what’s going on.”

With a sigh, I decided to spill. I told him how I had been feeling off, how Kevin and I fought back in February, and how he stormed out.

“What do you mean he got physical?” Scott interrupted sharply, his blue eyes blazing with concern.

I realized my blunder. “No, man. Kevin doesn’t hit me, if that’s what you’re thinking. I meant he got so mad that he pushed me, and I fell. He didn’t realize how hard he had pushed me. He was instantly sorry,” I explained quickly, seeing Scott’s expression turn stormy.

“Anyway,” I continued before he could speak again, “it’s bothering me. Where did he go that day? I’m going to ask him in therapy tomorrow.”

“Will knowing change anything for you? If you’re done, then be done,” he said, his logic grating on my nerves.

“Oh, I am done. I just want to know,” I replied defiantly.

“It doesn’t sound that way to me. You sound like someone who still wants to work things out,” he mumbled, his voice heavy with disbelief.

“Oh my God,” I rolled my eyes, exasperated. I scraped my chair loudly as I stood up. “Whatever,” I muttered, storming away, but not before I caught that smug look on his gorgeous face.

The rest of the day dragged on, each hour stretching into eternity. I was restless, agitated, and desperate to uncover the truth. If Kevin had cheated, that would be it. We’d be done.

As I stood by the printer later, I overheard Natasha chatting with Cailin nearby. I couldn't help but chime in, trying to ease the tension building within me. But when Natasha shot me a look of utter disgust, my heart dropped.

“I wasn’t talking to you. Nobody was talking to you,” she spat, her voice dripping with venom. A few heads turned at her outburst, and I could feel Scott’s presence nearby, his eyes narrowing in concern.

Something inside me snapped. I wanted to grab fistfuls of her hair and smash her head against the table. My hands itched, my mouth felt bitter. I saw red. Before I knew it, Scott had his arm through mine, trying to pull me back, but I resisted.

I marched over to Natasha, my heart racing. I grabbed her arm, squeezing hard enough to make her squirm. I bent down so I was eye level with her, my voice low and menacing. “Don’t let the nice English accent, the nice clothes, or my degree fool you—” I squeezed harder, digging my nails into her skin.

Just then, Scott yanked me away, concern etched across his face as people stared at us. I let him pull me back, but once he relaxed his grip, I spun back to Natasha, who looked genuinely scared now. I smiled sweetly for the audience and crouched down beside her, pretending to point at something on her computer screen.

“Listen closely,” I whispered, my tone dripping with faux sweetness. “If you ever talk to me like that again, I will rip you apart. Do you understand me?”

She nodded quickly, her eyes wide. I was tempted to add “say yes, ma’am,” but I caught Scott’s disapproving look from the printer. I straightened up, brushing my hands down my skirt as I walked away, ignoring Scott completely.

As I left, the adrenaline still coursed through me, a mix of satisfaction and anger swirling in my chest. Night had fallen by the time I reached home, but the tumult inside me was far from settled.