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Burp.
God. I shouldn’t have drunk that tequila so fast.
I’m too far gone to refuse. With a tipsy giggle, I sway closer to him, letting his arms wrap around my waist as we move in sync.
When he brings his face closer to mine, his breath hot on my lips, reality crashes back in, a slow, almost sobering wave that pulls me back to the present. I can’t be seen like this, not with another man, not in public. Antium City may be across the pond from Cebrene, but the risk is still there. What would Andrew do if he found out?
I’m such an idiot.
I push the man away, stumbling slightly as I regain my balance. “I can’t,” I mumble, my words slurred.
“Come on, gorgeous. You look like you could a distraction.” He leans in closer, his breath hot against my ear. “And if you want to have some real fun, follow me.” His gaze flickers to a nearby table where a group of girls dance with abandon. One girl with long, tousled hair twirls around, her arms outstretched, eyes closed. Another, with vibrant tattoos tracing intricate patterns across her skin, moves with such raw sensuality that it pulls me in.
They look like they’re having the time of their lives, as if their every worry in the world has melted away, leaving behind only the beautiful, radiant version of themselves.
Everything I’m not. Not anymore.
A third girl, a redhead, catches my gaze and grins, gesturing for me to join them.
I hesitate only a moment before I follow the guy, drawn to the promise of escape. But as I approach the table, a sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. One of the girls is snorting something off the glassy surface, her eyes glazed with a euphoria that sends warning bells ringing through my head.
I look away, planning to go back to the dance floor and find Cassie, when I catch a glimpse of the ring on my finger, glinting in the flashy club lights. My upcoming wedding, a presence looming over me like a shadow.
Lately, Andrew’s been coming around more, giving me gifts, making plans for our future as if talking about the weather, as if nothing happened, as if he didn’t put his hands on me, threaten my family. His existence is felt in every corner of my life, a reminder of who he is, of whom I’m supposed to be. His wife.
The girl kneeling in front of the table offers me some.
I’m not letting you marry him.
Dion’s words come back to haunt me. A promise he couldn’t keep, not until it was too late. It’s better like this, so you can protect both him and your family. My heart sinks just as my head spins, the alcohol getting to me even more.
I lean forward, inhaling sharply as the powder enters my system, a rush of warmth spreading through my veins.
I push all thoughts of my life aside, burying them beneath the haze of alcohol and drugs and losing myself in the moment as the world spins around me.
A few hours later, I stumble into the foyer of my home, the scent of alcohol clinging to my clothes like a suffocating cloud.
I wasn’t intoxicated enough to black out, unfortunately, but the night is a haze.
My steps falter as I climb up the stairs to reach my bedroom. Everything seems so big, and my head keeps spinning. The tequila sits heavily in my stomach, but the warmth of it is fleeting, leaving me colder and emptier than before.
When I reach my room, I collapse onto my mattress, sweat coating my skin. My high crashed like a tidal wave, the remains of the cocaine still lingering in my veins, leaving a bitter taste on my tongue.
In the last few weeks, I’ve found that, when intoxicated, the edges of my shitty reality blur into a comforting fog. I no longer think about my family, my fiancé. Or him.
For a brief while, I’m able to forget everything. The forthcoming wedding, the shattered remnants of my heart, the expectations pressing down on me like a suffocating weight.
But when the alcohol-induced euphoria began to fade a few hours ago, the guilt and shame set in with a vengeance. The bitter taste of self-loathing rose in my throat, a visceral reminder of my own weakness. I’d never tried cocaine before. How could I succumb to such impulses?
I try to push away the feelings of disgust and stand in front of the mirror, staring at the reflection that no longer feels like mine.
I’ve been withdrawing from myself, becoming a mere shell of the person I once was.
Who am I becoming? Aria, the dutiful daughter? Aria, the obedient fiancée?
Tears well in my eyes, silent and unrelenting.
I wipe them away. Maybe, just maybe, this pain is a necessary evil, a storm through which I must pass to emerge stronger on the other side.
