Isabella POV For a moment, I thought I misheard him.
I stood there, my mind kept replaying that scene.
Vanessa, the messy bed.
Matteo standing beside her.
I slowly turned to look at him.
“What did you just say?” He just looked at me, “I didn’t want you to find out this way, which is why I always tell you to call before coming to my house.” I felt a thousand pains.
After four years together, it was still his house.
“Exactly, she never listens.
” Vanessa’s voice came from behind him.
She sounded very pleased.
I looked at her; she was still sitting on the bed, wrapped in the duvet.
Her hair fell over her shoulders.
She wasn’t embarrassed or even ashamed of what she did.
She looked at me like she won a battle.
My fingers curled into fists.
I forced myself to stay calm.
I needed answers.
“So you are telling me that I have to inform my fiancé before coming to his house?” Matteo walked toward the window; neither cared enough to answer.
I needed to know the truth; was the relationship a joke to him?
“How long?” I asked quietly.
Matteo glanced at me and looked away.
I turned to Vanessa.
“How long has this been going on ?” She finally looked up.
“A week after, you two started dating,” she answered like she couldn’t wait for me to leave the room so they could continue their adventure.
The room seemed to spin.
A week.
My legs suddenly felt weak.
I grabbed the edge of my skirt before I embarrassed myself by falling in front of them.
“So, while I came back to the house, jubilating about my engagement, you were actually mocking me.” I laughed at myself for how I refused to see the bigger picture, when she would come to my room to ask for my laptop under the disguise that hers stopped working.
“Matteo, have you ever loved me for once?” I needed to know, even though he cheated on me, I needed to know if I ever amounted to anything to him.
“Why are you asking this now?” He asked arrogantly like he did not just betray me.
I looked at Matteo.
He leaned against the window with his arms crossed.
“Just answer me, please.” I took a step closer.
“The birthday cards, the flowers, phone calls.” My eyes burned.
“Was it a joke?” “Anything, you want it to be,” he shrugged.
The words hit harder than the cheating.
And somehow, that hurt even more.
Every hope I had, shattered.
I turned around and walked out.
Then I ran, past the chaos they created and finally out of the house.
I ran to the elevator, but it was taking too long to open.
So I took the stairs; by the time I reached the building entrance, I was breathless.
I pushed through the doors.
Cold evening air hit my face, but I couldn’t appreciate it .
It did not change anything; the pain was still there.
I kept running.
Everything around me became blurry.
Only one question stayed in my head.
Why wasn’t I enough?
I thought about everything.
Every memory, the sacrifice.
I never ignored him or forgot important dates.
I chose him over friends.
Over my grandmother’s warnings.
Every time she told me, “The leopard never changes its spots,” I always smiled and defended him.
Maybe because I trusted him and now look at me.
Running on heels and crying over a failed relationship.
Finally, I stopped a taxi.
The driver pulled over.
I climbed inside.
“Drive,” I whispered.
The driver nodded.
He drove around the city with no destination, and I sat on the back seat, crying my lungs out.
The city lights passed outside the window while I sat in the corner of the seat, hugging myself.
The tears wouldn’t stop.
They came from somewhere deep inside me.
The kind of crying that hurts your chest.
The kind that leaves you empty.
The driver’s radio played quietly.
I appreciated that he did not ask any questions.
My phone suddenly lit up.
Matteo.
Calling again.
And again, but I ignored every call.
I opened my message and typed a message to my grandmother.
“I won’t be home.
Don’t wait for me.” I knew she would worry and she would ask questions.
So I sent another message.
“I’ll explain tomorrow.
Love you” I put my phone on my lap.
The calls continued.
“Ma, where exactly are you going?
I have been driving around the city,” the taxi man broke the silence.
Finally, I looked at the screen.
Eleven missed calls.
A message awaited underneath.
“Where are you?
Don’t do anything stupid.” But I did not finish reading the message; my phone went off.
Something stupid?
The stupid thing was loving him for four years, listening to him.
He has been my friend; I never like me to make friends.
Whenever I tell him I miss my friends abroad and that I would like to make one here, he would frown at it and say, “Friends are a distraction.
I’m enough of a distraction for you, or you don’t want me again.” And I just didn’t know about his manipulation until tonight.
“Ma’am, where to?” the taxi driver is still on my toes.
Nobody wants to leave me alone.
“Sir, take me to a place where I can forget my sorrow for a moment.” I needed time.
Just one hour.
One hour to stop being the woman who had been betrayed and humiliated.
The taxi man went quiet for a moment.
Then he nodded and turned to the next junction.
“I know a place.” A few minutes later, I lifted my head.
A bright sign showed, MIDNIGHT CLUB.
A small group of people was outside, lined up, waiting to be attended to by the club bouncers.
For the first time that night, I was curious.
The taxi came to a stop; I stared at the entrance, thinking whether to go in or not.
Then I reached for the door handle.