HATRED

CHAPTER 18

REGINA

We entered the club, and Sylvester led us to the exclusive area where a small stage showcased strippers displaying their talents. I took a glass of white wine and sat on the sofa, with Uche and Sylvester flanking me on either side. It felt awkward at first, but Uche's jovial and carefree nature-so different from Sylvester's-instantly made me feel at ease.

"The first time I tried marijuana was in high school. I got caught, and the principal reported me to my father, who grounded me for two months but I always sneak out at night," I said after my third glass of wine, eliciting laughter from both men. "You have always been a troublesome girl," Uche said, and I nodded.

"I love to piss off my father, but recently, he's the one pissing me off," I added before downing my entire drink. "This is about the wedding disaster, isn't it?" Uche asked, concern evident in his tone. I shook my head.

I sighed and requested another wine, but Sylvester forbade the bartender from serving me any more alcohol. Knowing I wasn't getting any more liquor, I answered Uche's question. "No. This is a new discovery about my father, but I don't want to talk about it."

He nodded and held my hand. "We didn't come here to talk about what makes us sad." He stood up, pulling me along with him. "Come on, we're going to dance."

As I danced with Uche-terribly, since I don't know how to dance-I stole a glance at Sylvester and saw him staring back at me. We held each other's gaze until I broke it and looked at Uche, who is quite handsome. "Can I ask you a question?"

He nodded and twirled me around, making me laugh. "Were you close to Sylvia, Sylvester's twin sister?"

He froze for a brief moment, making me almost regret asking the question, "How did you-Sylvester told you about her, didn't he?" I nodded, then he answered my earlier question, "Yes, Sylvia and I were very close. Why do you ask?"

I shrugged. "I didn't know her. I was too busy being irresponsible, and now that she's dead, I feel bad."

He touched my face tenderly. "Don't think too much about it. Sylvia didn't care. Sylvester was the one obsessed with you, and never got the chance to have a proper conversation with you because you were never around."

"How did Sylvester know about me? Why was he obsessed? And there are cameras everywhere here. Has he always watched me?" I bombarded him with all the questions that had been bothering me. Instead of giving me answers, he tried to calm me down.

"You've had too much to drink. We should go back," he suggested, but I was adamant about getting answers. Realizing I was serious, he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair before explaining, "Well, Sylvester and Sylvia knew about you because your mother and their mother were best friends. They didn't talk about you in a good way, and Sylvester was curious. One day, we saw you sneak out of the house, and we followed you, only to see you and your friend enter this club with fake IDs. A few years later, he bought the club so he could keep an eye on you. But then you left for Canada and returned with a fiancé. You know the rest."

I didn't know what to say. I wanted to know more about Sylvia but ended up asking about Sylvester. "What about Sylvia?" I asked.

He shrugged. "She didn't care. In fact, she was a lot like you-beautiful, smart, and rebellious. She also enjoyed sneaking into this club with us using fake IDs."

"You liked her, didn't you?" I blurted out, surprised at my own boldness. He chuckled and nodded. "I loved her. She was my girlfriend, but Sylvester had no idea."

My eyes widened, and then we burst into laughter until Sylvester came over. "She's all yours, buddy," Uche said, patting Sylvester's shoulder and leaving us alone.

"What was he talking about?" Sylvester asked. I rolled my eyes and rested my head on his broad chest, feeling exhausted and weak. His heartbeat was a steady rhythm, comforting to my ears. His hands found my waist, and my arms wrapped around his neck as we swayed to the beat of the music. It was the most relaxing moment I'd had in a long time, and I wished it could last forever.

"Remember, you said even if it was my wish for you to miss me, a genie would not grant it," he said, his voice husky and seductive. I laughed, knowing I was in trouble.

Trying to digress, "Can I take the day off tomorrow?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. He nodded. "You earned it, baby."

I lifted my head to look at him. It was the first time he had called me a pet name other than Cindy. His eyes were so beautiful, and it was probably the alcohol messing with me, but I tiptoed and planted a light kiss on his lips. In response, he opened his mouth and deepened the kiss, conveying passion and hunger. He understood my message and lifted me. My legs wrapped around his waist, and I was grateful to be wearing trousers. He carried me to his office and pleased me in ways beyond my imagination.

The next day, I woke up next to Sylvester in his office, feeling severe body pain from sleeping on the couch. I stood up and put on my trousers and shirt. However, I noticed the screens that displayed the CCTV footage were no longer in his office. I hid my smile.

"I'll be taking the day off too," Sylvester said after yawning. I nodded, grabbed my bag, and left. But he ran after me, still shirtless. "I had a great time yesterday," he said. I smiled, "Don't tell me you followed me just to say that."

He rolled his eyes and turned around, causing me to burst into laughter. "I had a great time too," I shouted back, but he pretended not to hear and went back into his office.

I got into my car and quickly drove home. Fortunately, my parents were nowhere to be seen; my father was likely at his office, and my mother was busy planning and decorating an event. I quickly freshened up, grabbed my journal, and left the house. I didn't feel like writing any happy memories of Raphael again.

"I'm glad to see you again, Ms. Allen," my psychologist said with a bright smile, but I dropped the journal without smiling back.

"Were you able to do the assignment?" she asked.

"I was only able to write three. I don't want to remember," I answered as I sat down.

She asked why I didn't want to remember how it felt to be in love with Raphael, and I shrugged.

"Regina, if you remember the good memories you shared with Raphael, it will help you hate him less, and soon the nightmare will be gone permanently."

I shook my head. "I didn't deserve to be humiliated that way. Even though I was a thorn in my parents' flesh, I still don't deserve that kind of humiliation. So, I want to hate Raphael"

She agreed and collected the journal, quietly reading what I wrote. She smiled but before she could start analyzing everything, I spoke. "I want to forgive him, but I can't. And I won't write anything about him again."

She nodded and dropped the journal, "Okay. No more talking about Raphael. Let's discuss Sylvester, your boss."

I furrowed my brows, wondering how Sylvester was related to my nightmare and how she knew about my affair with Sylvester. Then it hit me. "My mother told you I am having an affair with Sylvester."

She nodded and began jotting down notes. "Is it just an affair?"

Angrily, I stood up and grabbed my bag. I shouldn't have come here, but I made sure to answer her question before walking out. "Yes."

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