The Inevitable |

chapter 6

Waking up all of a sudden, I heard a loud creaking noise and jumped. My eyes drooped close with sleep and I yawned, wanting to fall back into my deep, comfortable slumber. Attempting to do exactly that, I snuggled back underneath the layer of blankets but, to no success. Hushed tones were audible from the front door, and then I heard footsteps patter. Startled, I jumped up and blinked a few times, adjusting to my unfamiliar surroundings. It took a while for my brain to register that it was Ray's living room and I yawned, again. The clock continued to tick, and it read 6 : 0 8 A M. Reluctantly, I stood up, stretched and realized that Ray's shirt slid off my shoulder. In the mirror, I fixed my shirt, smoothed my insane case of bed-head down and finger-combed it, and to my absolute dismay, could not fix my face. My make up remained from yesterday but instead of being intact, it was smudged and I looked horrifying. My mascara and eyeliner had gone everywhere, the upper part of my cheeks a black mess with shimmering shades of pink and white as my blusher and highlight had also smudged. My lipstick had smeared over my chin and upper lip; my forehead was streaked with the powder I had used from my brow kit. Great, I looked a mess.

Pattering up the stairs, I stopped mid-stair as I heard a warm giggle - a feminine giggle. I froze contemplating between going back to sleep or finding out what was going on. My curiosity got the better of me and so I entered his room, to find Ray sat on a leather chair and a woman, a beautiful one, lying down on his bed. They both looked up at me in shock and horror, and I acknowledged the two of them with an expression of disgust. Why I did that, I do not know but I honestly thought it was the right thing to do. Ray looked tired and handsome, with a black shirt exact to the one I wore and a pair of black shorts, similar to the dark bags visible under his sleepy eyes. She, however, was decked up wearing a white, laced-up bodysuit that plunged into a deep V, paired with distressed, high-waisted jeans complete with a silver buckle belt. On her feet were leather ankle boots teamed with a little anklet clasped around her ankles. Sunglasses too big for her face rested on her brunette hair that was tied up in a messy bun and her face was covered with make-up as her bright, pillar-box red lips appeared prominent on her tanned skin. Her highlight was shimmering to the extent it gave me a headache and a choker was tied around her neck, just beneath a cute little tattoo of a music note. You saw her, looking nothing but sexy and model material, and then you saw me, a messy, exhausted hobo who had nowhere to stay. That really did help my self-esteem plunge deeper than rock-bottom.

"Oh, Ray. Who's this?" she drawled in a pretty American accent, her voice sweet and melodious. 

Confident and pretty? Who is this damn woman.

"Oh," Ray blinked, smiling at me and her, "uh, Aria meet Cymphonique, Cymphonique meet Aria."

"Just call me Kim, even though you pronounce the C in my name as an S," she smiled warmly, extending her hand out. I shook her hand, then she embraced me in a tight hug.

Taken aback, we drew apart and I smiled, "oh, hi Kim."

"So you're probably wondering what I'm doing here right now at 6am," she began, "and well you should probably know-"

"Kim," Ray cut, throwing her a warning glance. She didn't stop though.

"You should probably know, I'm his girlfriend."

"Ex." 

"Girlfriend."

"Uh, okay?" perplexed, I glanced at both of them as Ray shot her a glare and she returned with a flirty smile and wink.

"Okay," Ray suddenly stood up, and touched my arm before leading me out of the room. Realising that she was about to follow, he glared at her and said, "stay here."

I leant against the bathroom door as I waited for him to speak. Glancing at my nails, I realised how chipped the nail polish had become, and made a self-note to get them done at the salon.

"You probably wanna know who she is..." he began, switching his weight on one leg, then the other.

"Well, duh," I replied, drily.

"Well, she's my ex, and I have no idea why she's here or what she's doing." he cut to the chase, which surprised me enough to look up and seem interested. Well, I actually was interested.

"Oh, ex? Did you br-" 

He interrupted, "she broke up with me. You'll ask and I might as well spill, but anyway, she... uh, we were engaged."

My eyebrows rose, and fell. "Engaged? How long had you been going out for then?"

"Oh, about 3 years... and then she was my fiance for another 2 years."

"So what happened? Why did you break up if you were so close?" I knew I was asking too many questions for his liking but a) I was curious and b) he made no attempt of closing the discussion.

"She... no, it was the night before our wedding. And, I can't even remember. Wait, yeah. I think she, sorry, I know she had a hen night thing whilst I had my stag do and I found out that she cheated on me. The night before our wedding. And then, I didn't know and I stood at the aisle, all ready and prepared. I was waiting, waiting for her to come walking in all beautiful and I wanted to look at her with pride and love. You know, them pictures of a man looking at their girl with so much love and everyone says they want a man to look at them like that? Well, I was ready and I did do that. I loved her so much, so much. And I was waiting, and waiting and waiting at the aisle. It had been 10 minutes, then 20 minutes. Then 30 minutes. Everyone stayed seated, waiting for the bride to come. But... she never came. And everyone told me, they told me it's time to end the whole process. She wasn't coming, they said. But a part of me refused to listen and I made everyone wait for an hour. Then people rang her, and texted her and swore at her and they got angry and it was then, I realised she wasn't coming. It broke my heart." 

Speechless, my eyes teared up, and I had to do everything to not let that tear drop. I gulped, and breathed. Luckily, he was gazing at the floor, so I lifted my finger and making it seem like I was itching my eyes, I quickly wiped it.

"I'm... I'm really sor-" I began but was once again interrupted. I couldn't help but notice the misery and anger blazing in his eyes and his face was set in a forlorn expression.

"Sorry? You're really sorry to hear that? Don't be. Everyone says that, but they never really understand. Would you understand? I waited all my life to marry that damn woman. My parents never liked her and they warned me of her antics. My mistake? I didn't listen to anyone and instead, I was stubborn. Well, look what being stubborn caused. My heart broke - ask my friends. I was depressed for a whole 6 months after that. So don't fucking apologise because that won't help. The only apology that will help is from her. And apologise for what? Her mistake? No. Don't attempt it."

Confused, I stood as he vented his anger, but to me? He did it to the wrong person, and if he thought I would stand there, and allow him to do that, then he was as stupid as he was when he ignored the advice of everyone else about Kim. 

"I'm sorry, hold up. Why are you saying this to me? By the sounds of it, you haven't forgiven her yet and clearly, you still love her. So don't stand here having a go at me because you think that I deserve it. And, did you say 'would you understand?' Oh, I'm sorry. Have you forgotten the fact that I, myself, had been cheated on by my own fucking fiance? And he did it with my best friend and room mate? Does that not matter? Don't even dare stand here explaining what it's like to be cheated on when I know, in fact, yours was 5 years ago. Mine was yesterday. But hey, it's fine. Yell at me. Scream at me. And if you wanna know, I only said sorry because I felt sorry for you."

I have no idea how I got so pissed off to say all that to a heartbroken man, but the way he acted was just as bad. Laughing, I suddenly found the situation ironic and expecting him to laugh along with me, I stared at him. But, to my dismay, he had already walked away and I heard him sigh with disappointment. Well, what did he expect?!