When Love Turns to Dust

The room was warm and toasty, yet a chill ran down my spine.

Just moments ago, Charles had been all sweet whispers and soft caresses, but then his words cut through me, leaving me reeling.

I paused, a weak smile tugging at my lips.

"Charles, you're pulling my leg, right?"

He looked at me, long and hard, before letting out a derisive chuckle. "Jennifer, come on, we're grown-ups. It was just a bit of fun, a fling. You didn't think it was more than that, did you?"

I stayed silent, my eyes cast down to shield the storm of feelings within.

To him, our three-year whirlwind was just a game, but not to me. I had fallen for him, hard, and that feeling had lasted a whole decade.

We were the kids who grew up side by side in the same neighborhood, the kind of friends who shared every childhood adventure.

Charles was always the one everyone looked up to, not big on chit-chat, with an air of mystery about him.

However, it was that very Charles who, cheeks red with embarrassment, bought me my first pack of pads.

When kids taunted me about not having a dad, he was the first to jump to my defense, pulling me to safety behind him.

After high school, when it was time to pick colleges, he came back from university just to tell me, with those intense eyes of his.

"Jennifer, go for Capital Heights University. I'll be waiting for you there."

So I did. I filled out every single application with Capital Heights University without a second thought, heading straight for the city where Charles was.

I really thought he felt the same about me.

Three years back, someone spiked his drink. In his haze, he clung to my hand, his eyes drowning in emotion, and I was lost.

However, when the sun rose and clarity returned, he looked at me and got up in a fury.

Her eyes were icy, cutting through the air and straight into me.

"Jennifer, what are you doing here?"

I barely had a chance to speak before he unleashed a storm of accusations. "Jennifer, do you have any idea how low that was? Slipping something into my drink and then sneaking into my bed—how desperate can you get? Are you that hungry for a man?"

I felt like I had been drenched in ice water, frozen from head to toe.

The words I wanted to say were trapped in my throat, unable to escape.

In Charles's eyes, I was nothing but despicable.

He stormed out, the door slamming shut behind him.

I sent him message after message, trying to explain that night, but he never responded.

Three days later, he sent me an address and a door number.

I showed up, and the moment I stepped through the door, I was pinned against it. His kisses fell like a relentless storm, his eyes ablaze with desire, his touch rough and untamed, like a beast unleashed.

Afterward, Charles lay there smoking, the smoke curling around him as he said with icy detachment.

"Jennifer, since you're so into me, I'll do you a favor and hang out with you for a while."

No flowers, no sweet words, just a body marked in red and a flippant "hang out for a while."

That's how I became Charles's secret fling.

Every time he texted, I would drop everything to meet him.

As time passed, he spent more time with me, and he started treating me better—so much so that I almost forgot all the messy stuff from before.

I got lost in that fake kindness, falling all over again, foolishly believing he might actually love me.

However, today, I found out that the past three years were just a game to him.

A wild dream that crumbled to ashes at dawn.

The guy in front of me was waiting for my answer. I looked up, and our eyes locked.

"Of course not. You're engaged, so this is the end for us. Charles, I hope you find happiness."

Charles, hearing what he wanted, somehow felt a pang of loss. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

I was done playing his games. I got dressed and was ready to leave, but then I heard the sound of a key in the lock.

A jolt of dread hit me.

Before I could even think, the door swung open.

There she was—Charles's fiancée, Rose.