CHAPTER 05

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CHAPTER 05 


As I entered the dimly lit bar, the faint scent of alcohol and the murmur of conversation enveloped me. I made my way to the counter, where the bartender stood, wiping down glasses with a cloth. His eyes met mine, and without a word, I signaled for a drink.

"Give me a hard drink," I muttered, my voice betraying the turmoil within me. The bartender nodded silently, understanding the unspoken request for temporary oblivion.

He poured a generous amount of whiskey into a glass and slid it across the counter towards me. I wasted no time in taking a sip, relishing the burning sensation as it traveled down my throat. For a moment, the pain in my heart dulled, replaced by the numbing effect of the alcohol.

But even as I drowned my sorrows in drink, the memories continued to plague me, haunting every corner of my mind. I couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal that gnawed at the edges of my consciousness, nor could I silence the doubts that whispered insidiously in my ear.

"Are you alone, Miss?" The voice pulled me out of my reverie, and I turned to see a stranger seated beside me, his gaze probing yet gentle.

"Yeah, just for a short while. I need to forget my problems," I replied, my words tinged with bitterness.

"May I ask what your problem is?" His tone was curious, but there was a kindness in his eyes that encouraged me to open up.

"Tsk! You don't even know me, and you expect me to spill my guts?" I retorted, the walls I had built around my heart still standing strong.

"Okay, fair point. I'm Zander, by the way. And you are?" His smile was warm, inviting trust despite my reservations.

"I'm Keyah," I answered reluctantly, feeling a strange sense of comfort in his presence.

"So, Keyah, care to share?" Zander's voice was gentle, his gaze unwavering as he waited for my response.

"Haha, you're persistent, aren't you? But even if I told you, you wouldn't understand," I replied, a hint of defiance in my tone.

"They say it's okay to share with strangers, no judgment," he offered, his words echoing the sentiments of countless others who had sought solace in the anonymity of a listening ear.

"Are you sure?" I asked skeptically, unsure if I was ready to bare my soul to someone I had just met.

"Of course. No judgment here," Zander reassured me, his gaze sincere and unwavering.

"Fine. I have a boyfriend, but he's been cheating on me for the past 8 years of our relationship. Six years into it, he started fooling around, even in front of me. But every time he kisses me, that's my weakness. And when he says sorry, I forgive him. That's just how it goes because I love him. Even though he hurts me and asks for forgiveness, I forgive him right away because I love him and I don't want to lose him," I confessed, the weight of my words heavy on my chest.

"But are you sure he feels the same way about you?" Zander's question cut through the haze of my thoughts, forcing me to confront the harsh reality of my situation.

"I don't know. But he keeps cheating on me repeatedly, and even though he promises and apologizes, he still repeats the same painful actions," I admitted, the bitterness in my voice betraying the depth of my hurt.

"Maybe his feelings for you are fading. Because if he truly loves you, no temptation or lure from others would distract him. But if he keeps repeating the same mistakes, it's possible he's looking for something he's not getting from you, or his feelings for you are diminishing," Zander suggested, his words resonating with a painful truth I had been avoiding.

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I struggled to comprehend the implications of his words.

"Because we, men, also have needs just like sex, and if he didn't get it from you, maybe that's why he sought it elsewhere," Zander explained, his tone gentle yet matter-of-fact.

"But I've already given myself to him because I love him," I protested, my voice tinged with desperation.

"Do you have time for him, and how often do you do it?" Zander inquired, his questions probing yet insightful.

"We only did it once, and I've only hugged and kissed him. Besides, if he truly loves me, he wouldn't cheat on me. He would wait for me to give it to him, and he wouldn't look for it elsewhere, especially since we're engaged," I defended, clinging to the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for us.

"Engaged, yet he cheated on you? What kind of man is he? I can't believe it," Zander remarked, his disbelief mirroring my own.

"Yeah! I'm not blind or numb to not feel his betrayal. Sometimes he admits it, and that's why I forgive him," I confessed, my voice heavy with resignation.

"You shouldn't always be weak when it comes to him. Sometimes, you need to be strong for yourself and not let him hurt you all the time," Zander advised, his words a sobering reminder of the need to prioritize self-respect and self-love.

"Cheers!" I raised my glass, a silent toast to the newfound camaraderie between us.

"Cheers," Zander echoed, clinking his glass against mine as we both took a sip.

I couldn't explain it, but even in this brief moment of connection, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. It was as if Zander's presence alone was enough to ease the burden of my troubles, if only for a fleeting moment.

"So, why are you drowning your sorrows?" I asked, curious to learn more about the man who had offered me solace in my time of need.

"For the meantime, I just want to forget my fucking girlfriend," Zander replied, his voice tinged with bitterness.

"Haha, okay!" I chuckled, finding solace in the shared experience of heartache.

"And you? Why are you here?" Zander inquired, turning the conversation back to me.

"This is my comfort zone," he replied simply, his words tinged with a hint of resignation.

"Only for drinking?" I pressed, sensing there was more to his story.

"Yeah, and because I have a problem too," Zander admitted, his gaze distant as he stared into his glass.

"Care to share?" I asked, returning the favor of lending an empathetic ear.

"Fine! I have a girlfriend for 3 years, and we were close to my brother until one day. I found out she's pregnant, but nothing happened between us yet, and she confessed that my brother is the one who got her pregnant. Like what the fuck, I love her so much, and even though I asked her, she didn't give it to me, but with my brother, it was that easy. But what can I do? It happened already. Until she also confessed that she loves my brother, and for 3 years and 5 months, I let her go and told my brother to love her fully, and now they're happily married with two kids," Zander shared, the bitterness evident in his voice.

"That's painful, but why weren't we enough for them? Because they chose to deceive us," I remarked, the bitter irony of our shared experiences not lost on me.

"We fell short, but I wish they had told us that we weren't enough so we could have fixed it instead of doing what they did," Zander added, his words echoing my own sentiments.

"It seems we both have problems in love," I observed, finding solace in the shared bond of heartache.

"Cheers to that," Zander raised his glass, and I followed suit, the clinking of our glasses a silent testament to the unspoken understanding between us.

In that moment, as we sat side by side, drowning our sorrows in a sea of whiskey and shared pain, I couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship with Zander. Despite the circumstances that had brought us together, there was a strange comfort in knowing that I wasn't alone in my struggles, and that together, we could weather the storm of heartache and emerge stronger on the other side.








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