by A. G. Khaliq
But I was glad that Milo was so sweet and understanding, and that he still wanted to be friends.
I turned my keys into the front door of my apartment, walking in, locking the door and yawning loudly.
I was ready to take a long, hot shower and go to bed.
I fucking needed a good night's sleep after tonight.
I sighed heavily, unzipping my bodycon dress and letting it fall to the floor. The heated moment that I’d had with Milo, him kissing me and feeling my body, had left me sexually frustrated to say the fucking least. I imagined how much better it would have felt if it had been Donte touching me and pleasing me, and I could feel myself shiver at the sheer thought of that.
I made my way into my bathroom, leaving my phone on the counter, taking my hair out of my scrunchie. I stared at myself in the mirror as I wiped my makeup off with Micellar water, before cleaning it with cleansing wipes and some facial scrub.
After I’d taken my make-up off, I was 405
about to jump into the bath.
But just as I was about to, my phone started pinging.
I held my phone out in front of my face, wondering where the Notification had come from.
“It's just a Candy Crush request on Facebook,”
I
muttered
to
myself
in
disappointment, rolling my eyes.
I furrowed my eyebrows, my curiosity getting the better of me. Because now I'd got a Candy Crush request, I couldn't help myself but to go through the rest of my Facebook feed.
And as I scrolled down…
I saw the status.
I almost dropped my phone in shock. It felt like I was suffocating, and I couldn’t breathe.
Like the walls were closing in on me.
Like the world I once knew, had come crashing down on me.
Like my lungs were constricting, and I was struggling for air.
I couldn’t fucking breathe.
I couldn’t fucking breathe.
Donte Abruzzi was getting married to Sharon.
The woman I'd seen in his office that day…
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Who he was planning on getting an arranged marriage to.
I dropped my phone, and let out a terrified scream. Feeling my eyes well with tears, and then begin falling down to the floor, pit-pattering on the ground in tiny little droplets, as I collapsed and rocked myself backwards and forwards, fully breaking down.
Unable to believe my fucking eyes.
What I was reading.
What I was seeing.
He was going ahead with the marriage?!
I felt my heart shatter into millions of pieces. It felt like my chest was about to burst open.
It felt like it was about to fucking explode.
This hurt more than I thought it would. I couldn't believe my eyes.
I had no right to be angry, no right to be upset…
I was the one that broke things off with him, not the other way round.
But for some reason, it felt like this Sharon girl was stealing MY man off of me.
When he was never really my man in the first place…
We were both just two people, with an insane attraction towards each other, and I didn't 407
want to pursue it…
Because of the secrets that I hid from him.
And now, I was fucking devastated.
What the hell did I expect?
Of course he was going to move on.
It was like he said to me that day in his office…
He wasn't going to chase me like a damn dog forever…
And now the ship had well and truly sailed.
He was marrying a woman that looked like a supermodel…
And I was going to cry till I was blue in the face.
Wishing it was me in her place.
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THE NEXT DAY
I rolled out of bed, yawning loudly. I felt like fucking shit today.
I hadn't slept a wink all night. I couldn't stop picturing Sharon and Donte together in my head.
Her grubby hands all over MY MAN.
I shook my fists angrily, seething at the thought of him and Sharon sleeping together.
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Getting intimate together, when it should have been me in her fucking place. Him kissing her and pleasuring her in places where he should have been pleasuring me.
And only me.
“I need fucking cheering up,” I muttered to myself angrily. “I'm going over to Maisie and Millie's.”
I rolled my eyes agitatedly, before dusting myself off, and throwing on some tracksuit pants and a hoodie, not caring about how shit I looked.
I just wanted to wallow in self-pity forever.
I made my way to the door of Maisie and Millie’s apartment, and rang the doorbell. I listened in on their conversation as I waited for them to answer the door.
“How was Vegas then, babe?” Maisie asked Millie.
“It was good,” Millie replied excitedly. “It was good to see my family.”
There was a small silence, before Millie spoke again.
“The doorbell's ringing,” she said.
“It's probably Sapphire,” Maisie replied.
“I'll get it.”
I continued to wait patiently, my head pounding, and then Maisie opened the door.
“Hey girl,” she grinned.
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“Hey,” Millie added.
By now, I couldn’t even stop the tears from falling. I broke down into sobs in front of them both, because I felt like such utter and complete shit. Maisie and Millie stared back at me with mortified and startled expressions on their faces.
“What's wrong?” Millie denied, alarmed.
“I’ve fucked everything up,” I sobbed. “I had a good thing going and fucked it up…”
“Hey babe, it's okay,” Maisie mumbled.
“Come here.”
She hugged me to her, leading me further into the apartment so that I could sit down and explain to them what was going on.
“Come on, let’s talk about it.”
I drew out a deep breath, my heart twisting into knots as I thought about Donte. I told Maisie and Millie about how I cut things off with Donte, how I tried to cheer myself up by going on a date with Milo, and then how I found out that Donte was getting married.
“It's like, we had a really intimate connection,” I mumbled exhaustedly, feeling weak and pathetic. “And now he's moving on with another woman.”
“In some ways, I can't really blame him, Sapphire,” Maisie breathed, shaking her head. “I 411
mean, you did cut things off with him. He wasn't going to wait around for you forever.”
“I know,” I mumbled in response.
Maisie was supposed to comfort me, being my friend, but then again, she was only stating the blatantly obvious. I had brought this on myself, and I would be a fool to think that I didn’t have some blame in this.
“Regardless,” Millie shrugged, “it was a dick move for him to want to marry someone else, when it's you that he wants. He shouldn't have moved on so fast.”
“I'm so done with men at this point,”
Maisie retorted, rolling her eyes agitatedly. “You need to just stay single for a while, and forget your feelings babe.”
“I wish it was as easy as that,” I muttered, letting out a deep breath as my chest heaved upwards and downwards.
“You're always stuck in your room or going to work,” Millie sighed. “You need to have a bit of fun. It'll help you to take your mind off things.”
“Yeah, just allow men for now,” Maisie agreed. “Just lay back and go with the flow.”
“I guess you both have a point,” I hesitated.
“How about we all go clubbing tonight?”
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Millie suggested, folding her arms. “A proper night out. You need one, Sapphire.”
&nb
sp; “I don't know,” I replied uneasily, unsure of what I wanted anymore. “I don't wanna drown my sorrows in alcohol.”
“Honestly, some loud music and dancing is all it takes to cheer someone up sometimes,”
Maisie tried. “You should give it a go.”
I rolled my eyes, not wanting to bother with partying, but I knew that they weren’t going to take no for answer.
“I really don't want to, but I might as well go, knowing that you two are gonna drag me there anyway,” I hesitated, shaking my head.
Millie giggled, and Maisie cracked up with laughter.
“It's sorted then, babe,” Maisie reassured.
“We'll get ready in a few hours. We'll watch Netflix in the meantime.”
I nodded, knowing that if I put more effort into getting to know and spend time with the girls, I would probably feel better. After all, sisters were always supposed to come before fucking misters.
I sat down next to them, as Millie switched the TV on. We decided to watch the Breaking Bad show on Netflix. I allowed myself to immerse in the show, and forget about the real 413
world for a while.
We’d watched about five episodes of Breaking Bad, and now, it was time for us to get ready for clubbing. I wore a pink jumpsuit, not wanting to make that much of an effort because I was still feeling like shit. Maisie wore a turquoise dress, and Millie wore a yellow mini-dress.
“Let's go!” Maisie exclaimed happily.
“This better be worth it,” I retorted, rolling my eyes.
“Don't be such a party pooper!” Millie shot back.
We all got into Maisie’s car, meaning that Maisie was in charge of the Aux. Maisie and Millie were both already in rave mode, but I was just sitting there bleakly, staring out of the window.
“She said she too young don’t want no man!” Maisie screamed, as she sung the lyrics of a song called Jackie Chan by Post Malone.
Millie giggled, carrying on the lyrics. “So she gon’ call her friends now that’s a plan!”
They continued taking it in turns to sing, but I didn’t want to join in. I could feel my stomach churn, because I had a bad feeling about tonight. I had a feeling that something bad was 414
going to happen, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what.
We arrived at the Dark Angel nightclub. Maisie and Millie started raving to the song that was playing in the club, called Taste (Make It Shake) by a British rapper called Aitch.
“Shots!” Maisie squealed.
“You guys go ahead,” I said, with my hands on my hips. “I suddenly need to pee.”
They chuckled in response. “We’ll be at the bar when you’re done.”
I nodded. “I'll find you both later,” I reassured them, pointing my finger up pretentiously.
They both made their way to the bar, and I searched around, trying to locate where the lavatories were, since I’d never been to this club before.
But I couldn't see the fucking lavatory sign anywhere.
I could see people pole dancing, though...
My eyes widened in shock, as I took in the surroundings, and realized what this club was.
I couldn't believe that Maisie and Millie brought me to a fucking strip club!
The last thing that I needed was a man 415
getting butt naked in front of me, dancing on me, in a sad attempt to remind me of all the sex that I was missing.
I furrowed my eyes as I drunk in the environment. There were a bunch of dirty, pervy men sat on some couches, getting lap dances by exotic dancers while they threw money on them.
Then there were women up on the massive podium, twirling and grinding against some strip poles. They had talent, that was for sure. I couldn’t dance seductively like that to save my fucking life, and they were making amazing cash, too.
“I should just ask someone for directions,” I muttered to myself, suddenly needing the toilet less and less.
I made my way through the club, trying to pin-point somebody that could help me out. I saw a dark-skinned man with black dreadlocks and dark green eyes standing alone leaning against a wall, wearing a suit, and texting on his phone. He looked friendly, so I decided to approach him.
“Excuse me,” I simpered, “do you know where the toilets are?”
The man darted his eyes towards me, suddenly shoving his phone back into his pocket.
“You're late!” he exclaimed, grinning at 416
me happily.
“Excuse me?” I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, not knowing what he was talking about.
“Why aren't you in your costume?!” he denied, mind-blown. “You were supposed to be performing over an hour ago!”
“Performing for what?” I asked, repulsed.
“Come on, there's no time to waste!” he grinned, with his hands on his hips. “I'll get you changed.”
“What?!” I was exasperated.
Had this man lost the fucking plot? I had no idea who he’d confused me for, but he wouldn’t even let me speak.
“All the strippers on the main stage are full, but I'll get somebody to see you in the private lounge!” he exclaimed.
The realization had hit me as to what he’d confused me for. I couldn’t help but to be amused at this whole thing.
“But I'm not a stri-”
Before I could finish my sentence, he started dragging me towards a changing room excitedly, full of energy. I tried to open my mouth to speak, but I couldn’t even get any words out. I didn’t know whether I should laugh or cry. I couldn’t even fucking protest.
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What was I going to do now?!
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“Get changed here!” he exclaimed, as he pulled me towards a dressing room, full of exotic outfits.
“But I'm not a-” I tried again, exasperated.
“I'm not letting you out till you get dressed!” he exclaimed, cutting me off my sentence again.
Before I had the chance to protest, he ran out of the room, leaving me dithering in the middle of it, surrounded by hundreds of outfits.
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“Jesus Christ!” I sighed to myself. “I came here to go clubbing with Maisie and Millie, and I've been mistaken for a stripper! And he won't listen to a word I fucking say!”
I rolled my eyes, and this time, I couldn’t stop a laugh from escaping from my lips. This whole thing was so fucking funny. It certainly had given me some excitement in my pitiful fucking life.
“I guess I could give it a try,” I murmured.
“It's not like he'll listen to me, no matter how many times I try to tell him.”
I rubbed my chin, as I continued to immerse myself in my thoughts.
“And it would be good to see how many tips I get from this private lounge person,” I nodded to myself. “I do need to send money to my Mom, after all. And I did say that I needed to find a night job.”
I rolled my eyes again, amused at myself for wanting to play along with this. There was no harm in giving it a try. It wasn’t like anybody knew me here. I could dance without judgement.
“God, what's wrong with me?” I giggled.
“This could be funny.”
I turned my attention to the clothing rails, sifting through the different dresses and outfits that they had on offer.
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“Let's see what clothes they have here,” I murmured to myself.
I continued to flick through, seeing that every outfit would basically put my whole bare body on display. Bralettes, knickers, the tiniest dresses that barely covered the ass and made your boobs spill out.
“These clothes are VERY sexy,” I mumbled, unsure of whether I should wear one, since I’d never worn clothes so revealing before.
But I’d come all this way, and there was no backing out now. I had to give this a shot, instead of using clothes as an excuse.
I guessed that I could just put some foundation makeup on my leg, to cover the bruise. It wasn’t like I was
going to be in there for too long before the make-up started wearing off.
It would just be a stranger that I was dancing for, anyway.
“What's taking you so long?” the man called out, as he tapped his shoes against the floor so loudly and impatiently that I could hear the tapping from inside of the changing room.
“Coming!” I called out, exasperated.
I dusted myself off, and changed into one of the mini-dresses. It was like a role-play outfit that you would wear in the fucking bedroom.
The tiniest red dress ever, to make me look like I 421
was a fucking devil. My ass looked huge, and I had to be careful that the dress wouldn’t ride up and leave my bare ass exposed. Not to mention that it made my cleavage look fucking phenomenal.
“Wow,” I found myself murmuring, as I stared at myself in the dressing room mirror.
“This dress actually looks amazing.”
I grabbed some foundation from the table, and started brushing it over the bruise, making sure to pat it on until no more purple or blue marks could be seen on my leg.
Then I put the foundation back onto the table, and let out a deep sigh, as I continued to stare at myself in the mirror. Unable to believe my reflection.
I felt like a fucking goddess. I’d never seen myself like this before. I felt truly beautiful. I could feel my insecurities wash away as I stared back at myself. I could hardly believe that I was actually staring back at myself in the mirror. It felt like I was staring back at a stranger that I didn’t recognize.
But nevertheless, I fucking loved this feeling. This feeling of confidence. This feeling of knowing that I looked sexy…
I felt unstoppable tonight.
My heart hammered against my chest, my 422
chest heaving upwards and downwards, as I thought about who was waiting in the private lounge for me. Wondering whether it would be an old creep, or a young, handsome man. I had no idea.
“Why am I getting so nervous?” I mumbled to myself. “I need to get this over-with.”
I stared at my phone, quickly checking the time. I remembered that Maisie and Millie were probably waiting for me at the bar, wondering where I was. I hurriedly sent Maisie and Millie a quick text, so that they wouldn't get worried about me.
