Ava Thompson could not believe what she was looking at. She had come to the apartment of Mark Rivera, her boyfriend, to discuss things with him. Hoping that they could come to some sort of an agreement, but what she saw brought her stomach to the floor.
Mark was with his best friend, Bella Cruz in his bedroom. On the bed, they were too close, laughing and kissing.
“When will you tell her about us?” Bella asked.
“Well, soon baby, just give me time, I will abandon her soon hm? Mark said.
Ava froze in the doorway. She did not want to be observed, she did not want to stand up to them. So she slipped out, shut the door, and walked away.
Her telephone was heavy in her hand. She called her best friend Riley Morgan whom she wanted to talk to.
No answer.
She called again. Still nothing.
"Riley, pick up..." Yes, she said; speaking with a trembling voice. She threw the phone on the car seat. There could be nothing to improve this.
Ava started the car and drove. At first, she did not know whether she was heading anywhere, she just had to move, to escape. The city streets were lost in the streetlights. Her thoughts were repeating what she had just watched. Mark. Bella. Their betrayal.
She finally found herself in a club she was used to. The band played loudly, the crowd was dense and the lights flashed everywhere. She had ordered a drink and drank it off. She was scalded down her throat, but it mattered not. It was something she had to burn, she had to experience something other than the betrayal.
One beverage turned into two and then three. Her head turned, and her stomach was turning over at the music. She ran off to the bathroom for a moment, dipped water on her face, and then laughed at herself bitterly. She did not want to think, did not want to be responsible, did not want to care.
After some time, she fell out of her car. Her legs were shaking beneath her, and she got the engine started. She didn't stop at the rules. She only wanted home and she required the walls of her home.
As she drove up in her driveway, the lights in the living room were on. Her parking was fast, and she leaped out of the car and ran into the building.
"Mom? Dad?" she called, her voice tremulous.
No answer.
Then Marcus Hale came out of the corridor. He gazed in amazement at her.
"Ava?" he asked. "You're home early. Is everything okay?"
"Where are Mom and Dad?" Asked her, her speech somewhat indistinct.
They walked out in the evening, said Marcus. "They won't be back tonight. I only came to make sure that everything is okay. He examined her and saw how wobbly she was. "Ava... are you drunk?"
Ava laughed a little, and very nervously. “I am all right,” she said, but it was weak.
Marcus took a sigh and indicated for her to sit down on the couch. "Sit down. You will fall, unless you want to.
She obeyed. Her legs were weak, and her chest was tight. She put her face in her hands a little. Mark cheated, she at last told.
Marcus frowned. "What? How?"
"I saw him," she whispered. "With Bella. In his bedroom." Her voice cracked. "They were... together."
Marcus rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry, Ava. That's... that's awful. You didn't deserve that."
“I should not have cared,” she muttered as she leaned back on the couch. “I should not have expected anything out of him.”
“Don’t say so,” Marcus said. “It is not you who is in the wrong. He is. You're not stupid."
Ava threw back her head and shut her eyes. The couch was warm and Marcus was seated next to her, which made her feel calmer and secure than she had anticipated.
"Do you want water?" he asked. "Or something to eat?"
"No," she said, shaking her head. "I don't want to think. I just... don't want to think."
Marcus said nothing. He just sat next to her. She dropped her head a little towards him and was lying against his shoulder. The presence of the man was reassuring in a manner that she had not anticipated.
Ava could not prevent the movement of her body. Her hand fluttered on his arm. He didn't pull away. The contact felt safe. She stared at him, dizzy with the alcohol and the feelings that were going through her.
"I... I do not understand why I am like that, you see," she said in a kind of whisper.
"You're upset," Marcus said. "It's okay to feel that way."
Her lips were against his shoulder as an accident, almost as though they were seeking more comfort. He froze for a second. "Ava..." he whispered.
She leaned into him slightly. Her hand tightened on his arm. She kissed him unconsciously.
It started small. Tentative. Then deeper. Marcus kissed her back, hesitantly at first and then completely as she failed to stop.
One thing led to another. Clothes came off. Touches, whispers, and kisses had filled the room. Time didn't exist. It did not matter whether it was the world outside the house, the betrayal, or the alcohol.
At the moment of its termination, Ava was lying on the bed with her head whirling. She was not sure of the time they had been together. She did not think of anything but warmth next to her and the empty feeling as he rose to leave.
Hours later, she woke up alone.
Her head throbbed. Her mouth was dry. Her heart raced. The curtains were knotted about her knees.
She remembered.
Everything.
Her eyes widened. She had slept with the stepbrother of her father.
Panic rose in her chest. She scrambled out of bed and took her clothes. She hastened into rapid dress and shook and clasped her hands over her face.
Marcus wasn't there.
She was standing in the bedroom, and breathing rapidly. The club, the drinks, the betrayal, the comfort, the kiss, the touches, her mind played all this over and over again.
Her stomach turned. Her body felt heavy.
"What did I do?" she whispered to herself.
