I think it's funny how a broken heart can physically hurt me. It just feels severely heavy, like a giant elephant is sitting on my chest, but weirdly enough I am able to breathe. That pain, where its pattern feels a lot like a continuous ebb and flow in my chest. And the worst part is that nobody can help me. Nobody. Nothing.
All I want is just to forget everything. The engagement. Break up. Ryan. Kathleen. Everything. But my stupid brain just keeps on replaying the memories from last week.
"Stella..."
Ryan's face was red and sweaty as he stared out at me. I immediately registered my naked best friend underneath my fiancé, who was a second ago, moaning with pleasure. I wanted to believe that it was a terrible joke, that the two most trusted persons in my life were just playing with me.
Kathleen looked at me frozen, with smudged red lipstick stain at the corner of her mouth as she lie naked underneath Ryan, on my bed. Her emerald green silk dress was on the floor, next to Ryan's black skinny jeans and the obsessive urge to grab her dress so I could hang it properly for her was so hard to resist.
Don't be stupid Stella.
"The meeting ended early," I announced, numb, not moving.
I stumbled backwards when Ryan suddenly moved from his missionary position, trying to cover his glory with whatever piece of clothing he could find on the floor, like as if I have never seen his dick before.
"Stella, I can explain," he exhaled. I looked past Ryan to look at Kathleen again. She's stupidly crying. I just could not believe it. Kathleen's the one person that I entirely trust on the planet and there she was, on my bed, caught fucking my fiancé. A sudden jolting ache in my heart snapped me out of my thoughts.
"I'm gonna go now. Sorry for interrupting... this," I flung my arms in the air. I quickly turned and headed towards the door.
"Stella, wait!" Kathleen called out.
"Stella!" Ryan ran after me, managed to grab my wrist and made me turned to face him and Kathleen again.
"How long?" I calmly asked, holding the tears forming at the edge of my eyes as much as I can. I pierced a look at Kathleen, then Ryan and then towards Kathleen again.
They remained quiet. Kathleen immediately looked down and didn't even want to look away from whatever she was staring on the floor.
"How long?!" I shouted. They were both startled. They have known me long enough to know that I could not get mad without crying and I hated myself for it as I started to uncontrollably sob.
"Since before I proposed," Ryan sighed, finally admitting that he's been cheating on me.
"Lovely," I wiped off my tears.
"Do you love her?"
"Stella..." Ryan sighed.
"Answer me Ryan. Do you love Kathleen?"
"Yes..." He nodded. I gripped my hand a little too tightly, aware that my fingernails are cutting through my skin. It hurt, but not as much as it hurt knowing that my life has been an absolute lie.
"Do you love him, Kath?"
"Stella, I didn't mean to..."
"Answer me, Kath. If you still have a bit of dignity in you. Answer my question."
"Yes, Stella. I love Ryan. I always have. I'm so sorry," she sobbed.
"Perfect," you sniffed, adding, "I wish you all the best."
A tear annoyingly fell from my eye as the memories came back. I quickly wiped it away, angry at myself for continuously moping over the fact that Kathleen and Ryan has betrayed me.
I was happy with Ryan. Too happy, in fact, that I didn't even see the signs. I honestly thought he was happy with me. He fucking proposed to me! How was I supposed to feel?
And Kathleen... I think I am angry at her the most. I can't even bring myself to call out her name in conversations because her name is just too triggering.
I rest my forehead on the rim of my glass, contemplating if I should order another drink. This is fast becoming a new routine for me. I mean, what's better than drinking my sorrows away, right?But then I remembered that I'm all alone in the bar and no one would want to get my drunken ass home if I pass out. I don't want to sleep on the street. I would not allow myself to be that pathetic. I quickly signalled the waiter for a check before my stupid self start to resist.
You're so pathetic, Stella Mills.
"Your bill has been paid for, Miss," the waiter smiled.
"It must be a mistake. I know no one here," I said, before realising how sad I sound.
"Really. It's been taken care of. And this is for you," he handed you a folded piece of paper.
"What's this? Who gave you this?"
"I'm afraid I can't say..."
