THE BILLIONAIRE'S FORGOTTEN NIGHT

ARIA’s POV

“Kara is going to lose her mind when I tell her what happened in class today.” I said while I adjusted the takeout bag against my hip and smiled to myself, searching through my handbag for my spare key.

Professor Daniels had cancelled his afternoon lecture. That gave me two unexpected free hours and I decided to surprise Kara with a takeout.

Earlier that morning, Kara had complained about a severe headache.

“You should go to the clinic,” I had told her while getting dressed for class.

“I’ll be fine, I just need enough rest.” She waved me off.

So, I was surprised when I found the door locked. I wondered if Kara had later changed her mind and had decided to go to the clinic for proper medication.

Kara Bennett had been my roommate for four years and my best friend for just as long. She was the person I called whenever something good happened and the person who stayed up with me whenever life fell apart. To me, she was family. 

I share everything with her except my boyfriend, Charles. 

I stopped by her favorite snack shop on my way back to the apartment.

The woman behind the counter laughed when she saw my order.

“Your friend must really love these.”

“She really do,” I said smiling. “She’ll probably cry if they ever stop making them.” 

I found my spare key at the bottom of my bag. Funny how I had wanted to drop it in the morning but had taken it on a second thought. I inserted the key and unlocked the door.

I pushed the door open while reminiscing on the gist I planned on telling Kara.

I dropped the takeout bag on the table in the sitting room and threw my handbag on the couch. Then, I walked toward the bedroom.

As I moved closer, I heard laughter, followed by soft moans. I freezed on the spot. Kara had not been in a romantic relationship for the past six months after she broke up with her ex-boyfriend.

“Then who was she with?” I questioned within myself. 

“Did she fake her sickness, so just to bring a random guy home?” I asked myself again

In a minute, my hand was already on the bedroom door handle. I turned it downward and the door unlocked.

The horrible sight before me caught me off guard.

Kara, my best friend, my confidant. The girl who borrowed my clothes without asking. The girl who held my hand at my mother’s funeral and told me she has my back. The girl who knew every wound I had ever carried and every dream I had for my future. The girl who I had loved unconditionally for the past four years.

The girl who knew exactly how deeply I loved Charles. That same girl was sitting on Charles lower body in a cowgirl position, riding on him and moaning with utmost pleasure right there in my bed. On the bedsheets I had hand-washed myself two days ago.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a second and prayed fervently in my heart that this was a dream, one I want to wake up from immediately.

When I opened my eyes, they already knew I was standing there. Kara scrambled to the other side of the bed, covering her breast with one hand, while Charles sat upright so fast he nearly fell. 

My gaze shifted between both of them and eventually fixed on Charles. I wanted to speak, I wanted to shout, I wanted to ask questions but my voice failed me.

Eighteen months of building dreams around a man who had looked me in the eye and told me he couldn’t wait for us to graduate. Charles had once told me, three months into our relationship, that I was the perfect woman for him and he search no more.

I steadied my breath and finally found my feet still intact, I turned and walked out of the room hurriedly without a word. Charles called after me twice, the second time louder than the first but I ignored him. I grabbed my handbag on the couch in the sitting room with trembling hands and walked out of the apartment. 

I kept walking down the street with my bag on my shoulder while every carefully planned version of my future collapsed quietly behind me until I ended up in a bar few streets away. 

A neon sign had caught my attention. I was so cold inside that I pushed the door open without thinking.

I found a stool just in front of the bartender, I sat down and ordered the first thing the bartender suggested.

The first drink burned as it slid down my throat, then the second, then third until I lost count of it. 

“Another whiskey,” I mid-scream at the bartender as I dropped the whiskey glass hard on the bar counter.

He looked at the empty glasses lined up in front of me before shifting his gaze back to my face.

“Miss, I think you’ve had enough.”

I pushed my glass toward him.

“Then bring me the kind that makes people forget hurtful scenes.”

For a second, he stared at me. 

“You should call someone to take you home.”

I laughed hysterically. The sound didn’t even resemble laughter anymore.

“That’s exactly the problem,” I said. “I don’t think I have anyone left to call.”

The bartender hesitated before reaching for the bottle. Maybe he pitied me or maybe he simply wanted to stop me from getting drunk.

Either way, amber liquid filled my glass again, and he dropped the glass in front of me, looking at me with those pitiful eyes.

I wrapped my fingers around the glass and held it a little below my nose. I inhaled the sharp liquid scent and took another sip. The burn sliding down my throat felt better than the ache occupying the whole of my heart.

“Eighteen whole months and he couldn’t even do it in someone else’s bed.” I muttered into my glass. 

I stared at the whiskey in the glass as if waiting for it to answer me, but it didn’t. It just dangled in the glass but at least it didn’t lie to my face, or strip me bare. So tonight, it was really doing better than the two people I had trusted most in this world.

I pressed the glass to my bottom lip and let the whiskey sit on my tongue for a moment before swallowing.

“I should have seen it coming,” I muttered.

But that was the thing about betrayal, it never announced itself or arrive with a warning. It just waited patiently and invisible, wearing the face of the person you trusted the most until the exact moment it decided to show you what it had always been underneath.

I reached for my glass again, took a sip and shut my eyes briefly. I don’t want to think about it, but memories has sharp teeth.

“Are you okay over there?” The bartender’s voice drove me out of my thoughts.

“Do I look okay to you?” I snapped back.

The bartender looked at me briefly and continued with whatever he was doing.

I stared at the amber liquid in my glass, and steadied my voice.

“Earlier today, I found out that my boyfriend and my best friend had been sleeping with themselves right under my nose.” I said loudly. As if talking to someone about my situation will make me feel better.

The bartender’s reaction seems frozen to my word and I caught that.

“Stupid me, isn’t it?” I said again as I smiled without humor.

“That’s pretty bad,” he said.

“What is worst is me not knowing which hurt most.” I picked up my glass again. “The boyfriend who cheated on me or the friend who smiled in my face while doing it.” I screamed.

The woman two stools down cut me a sideways glance. I raised my glass in a small, unapologetic toast and she looked away.

I slid off the barstool to find the bathroom and the floor rose up to meet me at a completely unexpected angle. My hand shot off the counter and I staggered backward. 

Two hands caught me before I reached the floor.

The hands pulled me upright so quickly it felt like the stumble had never happened. I grabbed at the forearms holding me purely on reflex, my fingers curling into fabric that was expensive enough that I noticed it even through the fog of whiskey and humiliation.

The scent hit me next, it was a warm scent beneath the cedar. I tilted my head up and sharp dark eyes looked down at me. He was not smiling but his handsome figure left me drooling while the room spun around me.

“I look like someone about to get laid tonight.” I muttered under my breath.