I slapped him. I slapped him so hard the inside of my palm stung. I slapped him so hard that his left cheek reddened immediately with traces of my fingers' impact on his skin. I slapped him so hard that I felt I was the one who got slapped and was about to break down crying.
When he saw the picture, he looked hurt, to say the least. He looked guilty, regretful, and sorry. But what am I going to do with all that?
I don’t want to know why he did it, but I ask him anyway, hoarsely whispering, "Why?"
He doesn’t answer, but rather looks into my eyes with something unexplainable. His eyes then divert from mine, and he looks at the ground—maybe his feet, the sand, or the tiny shells and weeds that were transported all the way from the beach.
"Why?" I ask more persistently. And then I ask again, taking a fistful of his shirt and pulling him towards me. I ask again, shaking him slightly. And I ask again, letting him go and pushing him away from me.
"I'm sorry." Pause. "I didn’t wanna hurt you."
I chuckled humorlessly. Bullshit. I turn away from him to take a deep breath and swallow my tears back. I promised myself that I won't ever cry for anyone else after my family, so I most definitely won't cry for someone like him.
"I've always taken your side," I say. "They used to always tell me you weren't right for me, that you're not who I thought you were."
I turn back around to face him.
"I didn’t believe any of them. I always went against my friends to defend you because…" I start shaking my head, "I really believed you were a good person. I trusted you."
He walks closer, "Shadow, please—"
"Don't," I point a finger at him, "don’t you dare come closer. And don’t you dare try to reason with me."
We stand silently for a while, feeling the air getting colder as it sharply brushed our bare skin. I feel eyes on me, but I try to ignore them. I'd made Dylan promise me that he won't let anyone interfere, and miraculously he managed to do it. The last thing I need right now is my friends getting involved in this, although I know for a fact that they will, if not now, then later.
"Is it really just an arranged marriage?" I couldn’t help but ask what's been on my mind ever since I found out.
"It is," he replies, making me chuckle again and mutter, "Bullshit."
"Since we were twelve, our parents have been talking about our marriage," he starts. "I didn't accept it at first, but years later, when I felt that this is the reality of it, and I couldn’t just escape it, I guess I grew to genuinely like Emma."
I repeat her name in my head as I think this over. "So it started before you met me," I conclude. "Why did you start dating me when it started before you met me?" I felt the anger rising inside of me again. He doesn’t answer, making me lose my temper even more.
"Just go away. I don’t wanna see you again," I yell, and the next thing I do comes unintentionally. I punch his face as hard as my fingers could handle. He's on the floor, his nose bleeding, making me feel better.
He stands up again, "I really like you, Nicole. I care about you."
"Fuck you, Ryan. You're just like your father. You both disgust me."
He apologizes one more time before he drives off. I sit down on the veranda steps and try to comprehend all that's happened. Strangely enough, it all feels like a huge burden has been lifted off my chest. Like I've been anticipating this for a long while, and now that everything is out, I feel relieved. Maybe this was bound to happen. Maybe it was only inevitable that I discover Ryan is a cheat and a liar. Maybe I've always known that Ryan was not the person he made me believe he was, but I was just waiting for the right time to believe it.
After sitting outside for what felt like hours, I go back inside the house to find everyone sitting around like they were having an important meeting. Denise came and hugged me, and then she told me to go to sleep. I nodded and went to bed, but I didn’t sleep. I didn’t want to.
Everyone knew that I needed space, so no one came into my room. No one, except William. At around 2 in the morning, he came and stood at the doorway for a few minutes before he invited himself in. I was sitting cross-legged on the bed, staring at nothing in particular when he came and sat in front of me.
"You know? I never really liked this douche," he says. Shocker. "You deserve so much better." He brushes my knee with his hand, and I watch the way his thumb moves in circles on my skin.
"Listen," I say, "I can't sleep. Do you wanna do something?"
"Something like what?" He narrows his eyes, and I shrug my shoulders, knowing exactly what we can do right now.
Before sneaking out of the house, Will takes a bottle of Jack Daniels with him. I run towards the water, and he chases after me. We fall to the ground, and my fingers dig into the sand. We take turns to take sips from the bottle till we start getting wasted and find ourselves laughing at random things. We started a game where we ask each other questions, and whoever doesn’t want to answer something drinks.
"Okay, my turn," he speaks, "What's your bra size?"
"Excuse me?" I laugh. "You can't ask that!"
"Why not?"
"You can never ask a girl three things: her weight, whether she's pregnant or not, and her bra size," I count on my fingers. "It's like asking you how long it is."
"Well, I can answer that if you answer me," he smirks.
"I'm not telling you."
"Okay. You're just afraid of losing," he shrugs, taking a sip from the bottle.
"Losing what? You can't compete in—ugh—whatever," I sigh. "I'm a 34B."
"You're a B?" He asks, looking at my chest. Either the alcohol gave me confidence, or I just don’t care anymore because I didn’t even ask him to not look.
"What? Don’t I look like a B?"
"To be honest, you look smaller than an A," he turns away to look at the sea.
I gasp dramatically, "Excuse me, they are not that small!"
"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he smiles, shaking his head slightly. I snatch the bottle from his hand and take a huge gulp. I dig a small hole in the sand with my palm to bury half the bottle in it.
"Take your shirt off," I tell him.
"What?" He frowns, but his lips stretch a little. Will clearly isn't as drunk as I am right now.
"I said take your shirt off," I repeat, unzipping my boots before removing them. He watches me as I pull my sheer tights down to expose my legs to the sharp weather. I didn’t feel cold; the alcohol in my system was warming me enough.
"What are you doing?" He asks.
"Stripping," I shrug a shoulder with a smirk. Man, I must be really drunk. I take off my sweater/dress to reveal the rest of my body, which was currently only covered in my underwear: a plain black bra and an animal print panty. "I wanna go for a swim."
"At this hour?" His eyes roamed over my body. On other occasions, his balls would be in my hands right now. But then again, on other occasions, I wouldn’t be in my underwear to swim in December at 3 in the morning.
"Yeah, whatever," I pull him up to his feet. "Aren't you gonna join me?"
"It's kinda dangerous, don’t you think?"
I sigh, "Is that William talking?" I leave him behind and make my way to the water, which I couldn’t distinguish from the dark sky except for the light glisten of its tides. If not for the sound of its waves hitting the shore, you'd think the night had taken the sea into its embrace and went to sleep. I feel the cold water brush the bottom of my feet for moments then flow away. Then it comes again and goes. Comes and goes. Comes and goes. As if it's shyly asking me to go deeper and welcoming me to join it. And I do. I do go deeper till my legs are under the water.
I let my whole body sink in the water till only my head was left in the air. I feel two strong arms wrap themselves around my waist from behind. I'm too distracted by the warmth they give me to complain or even look at his face.
"I told you it's dangerous," he murmurs.
"Well, I'm risky like that," I make small waves in the water with my hands and watch them as they swim away till they disappear. His breath starts brushing my neck, making me inhale sharply. I pull away from him, "What are you doing?" I ask him with a sided smile.
"What am I doing?" He asks back, feigning innocence. I splash a little water on his face.
"So, you came," I say. "You were being such a good parent back there."
"I think we can all agree that I'll never be a good parent," he jokes. "I just thought that I'd have a little fun with you."
At some point, when the sun makes its first appearance, Will's lips land on mine, and I let him kiss me like I've never been kissed before. And what comes after that is a faded picture that will be buried deep within my mind till I decide to recall it.
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