How will he handle me tonight?

Charlotte's pov

The feeling of love was stronger than my desire to obey. My mother's words and occasional yelling from my best friend couldn't persuade me to open the door. I remained silent, consumed by pain and in my own world. All I wanted was for everyone to leave me alone. Eventually, it took the assistance of security personnel to break down the door. Perhaps they thought my silence indicated thoughts of suicide. However, what they found was a woman filled with bitterness, pain, and tears. My mother couldn't offer any immediate help, but she held me close, holding back her own tears. She did this to prevent me from crying even more. When I couldn't bear the pain any longer, I spoke up.

"Where do I go from here? He meant everything to me. How is it that the men I loved never loved me back?" I desperately needed an answer, but my mother didn't rush to respond. Instead, she sat beside me and gently caressed my back. After a while, when she saw that my anguish had subsided somewhat, she began to speak.

"It wasn't your fault that Harry didn't love you back..."

"Whose fault was it?" I interrupted her, tears streaming down my face.

"You need to understand that sometimes, people won't love you in the same way you love them. And sometimes, certain people aren't meant to stay in your life for long. Their departure makes you stronger, and you learn to recognize the difference..."

"I hate the difference," I didn't let my mother finish her sentence. I had envisioned Harry and me as a blissful couple, and everyone who knew us could testify to that. He didn't break my heart in private; he publicly humiliated me.

I remained seated in the restroom until I no longer heard any sounds in the hallway. Only then was I willing to stand up and leave. My mom and Ava stood by my side, as if I had lost someone I loved to death. My mother insisted that we couldn't go home without taking the picture I had told her about. This time, it was just the three of us—me, my friend, and her. They both tried to make me smile as we prepared to take the picture, but I had no reason to smile.

That's how I became heartbroken, while Harry felt no pain in leaving me; I was alone in my love. It was something I had only seen in movies, but now it was happening to me.

There was another obstacle I had to overcome, and that was the pity I received from those around me. In my small neighborhood, Harry's good looks had caught everyone's attention whenever he visited me. We were known as a happy couple because of the way he always smiled. By the next day, everyone who knew me was aware of our breakup. Some even witnessed it on television, as Harry dedicated his achievements to someone else and they shared a kiss on stage.

When some of my neighbors saw me a few days later, they tried to sympathize by saying,

"We saw what happened. We saw how Harry broke up with you. How are you coping right now?" Before they could say more, I forced a smile and quickly replied,

"I have moved on. Loving myself was the best decision I ever made. We weren't meant to be. Thanks for reminding me, but it's in the past now. It's not a big deal. I'm not the first person to go through this. What wasn't meant to be will never be meant to be. I've forgotten about him, although it's a bittersweet memory. We ended things amicably, like mature adults, and decided it was best for both of us. Now, I've learned the difference between love and infatuation."

My response sounded like a motivational speech, filled with determination, and I shrugged it off before walking away. But what happened when I got home after that reminder? What happened when I closed my room door and found myself alone? I burst into tears. The breakup felt fresh again, and I could feel Harry's absence tearing at my heart. As I lay on my bed, tears streamed down my face and soaked my pillow. Loneliness engulfed me, and I could hear Harry's voice clearly as he said,

"I didn't want to hurt you... You are my weakness, and I don't want this relationship to continue anymore."

Sometimes, I wished those words were reversed or that he had never said them to me. Subconsciously, in the late evening, I still checked my phone for his text messages before falling asleep. Sometimes, I was tempted to reach out to him and ask how he was doing.

The more I thought about the memories we had shared, the more I wept into the night. I found myself comparing myself to Harry's new girlfriend, Tasha. What did Tasha have that I didn't? Wasn't I good enough? What could Tasha do that I couldn't do better? I wondered what they were doing at that moment if Tasha was at Harry's house. They were probably cuddling each other as the weather grew colder. She was probably kissing Harry's lips right now, and that was something we had planned to do after the award ceremony and the party. Harry and I had already arranged for me to spend the night at his place, and I had been looking forward to it before he took me out and shattered my innocent heart.

Whenever these thoughts crossed my mind, it was almost certain that I would skip dinner that day. I would simply retreat to my room, lock the door, and no matter how much my mum knocked and called my name, I wouldn't open it. The next thing she would do was call my best friend, Ava, and I could hear their conversation.

"Hi Ava, your friend has locked herself in the room again, and she's crying inside."

Within two minutes of my mum ending the call, my phone would start ringing, and it would be Ava on the other end.

"Hello Charlotte, I thought you were gradually getting over these feelings. Why put yourself through this pain?"

I would quickly respond with a cracked voice,

"I'm doing fine, I just want to be alone."

"No, you're not fine. Someone who is fine would want people around them. Your mum is the only family you have left. Your dad is gone. Why put her through this pain? How long will you mourn over your past relationship? It's been three weeks since Harry left, but your attitude continues to hurt you, as if it happened yesterday. I spent almost a week at your place before going back to my city. Harry doesn't care about you, so why do you keep holding onto him? You need to take practical steps to help yourself out of this situation. Remember, you are a beautiful woman. Soon, you will find someone who will treat you and love you the way you deserve."

Out of everything Ava said, one statement stuck with me. She mentioned that I needed to do something practical to help myself. What practical thing could I do to get out of this emotional state? If Ava was living in this town, she would visit me almost every day.

Sometimes, after deeply reflecting on everything that happened and how my relationship with Harry ended, I would think that perhaps it was because Harry was still young and inexperienced. His immaturity played a significant role in our breakup. Someone more mature would have stuck by me and been willing to learn and grow together.

What practical thing could I do to stabilize my emotions? Out of nowhere, the idea of having a random sexual encounter flooded my mind. I knew what I was going through was emotional, and I felt like it needed an emotional remedy. After three days of contemplation, I came to the conclusion that seeking immediate satisfaction might help me escape this emotional depression. But who would I do it with? I didn't want to start another relationship. All I wanted was to be with someone I didn't know, and afterward, we would go our separate ways.

The next day, while alone in my room, I downloaded a special blind date app that matched random people based on their preferences. I liked the app's terms and conditions, which ensured that the two individuals would never know each other. Both the man and the woman would be blindfolded before, during, and after the encounter. This app seemed perfect for my current situation.

Without wasting time, I started filling in my details, and the app specified that I should use fake information. So, all the details I provided were fake, except for my phone number, which the app site might know. I described the type of man I preferred, someone tall, muscular, and with a deep voice. Even though I wouldn't be able to see him, I believed I could feel him through touch and sound. However, the last question gave me pause. What age should I put? I pondered over this for another day and decided that I had already experienced disappointment with a young man, so why not try an older man? Additionally, I didn't want someone young who would remind me of Harry. In the end, I entered an age almost twice my own.

After submitting the form, it took six hours before I received a text message with my serial number and the serial number of my mysterious match. Another message followed, indicating the time and date, which was the upcoming Saturday, just two days away.

Reality sank in, and questions filled my mind. What should I wear? I quickly realized that my appearance wouldn't matter since he couldn't see me. Then I thought about what body spray to use. The only way for him to experience me, without sight, would be through my fragrance. Should I stick with my usual spray or buy a more expensive one? In the end, I decided to purchase a more expensive body spray, and all my thoughts revolved around Saturday.

As the time drew nearer, without consciously trying, I started to forget about Harry, and all my focus shifted to this stranger. I began to have mixed feelings, as if I was getting married to a complete stranger. Gradually, fear crept in, and my heart started beating faster as the clock ticked.

The appointed time was 8 p.m., and the hotel address had been sent to me. Around 6 p.m., I took a bath and unconsciously hummed to myself as I dressed in a short red gown. It was at this moment that my mom walked into my room and saw her transformed and vibrant daughter.

"Where are you going?" she asked. I paused for a few seconds, still rubbing my lips.

"To a party. I want to forget my pain," I replied.

"That's something I've been thinking about too, and I believe it will help you," she said and paused. Before closing the door, she added,

"Good luck!"

I left my house and headed straight to the designated hotel. One thought lingered in my mind: How would this stranger handle me tonight?