Page 92 of Stronger Than Fate
I stopped breathing. My lungs forgot how to function.
“Breathe in, Dalina, do it” I told myself.
I closed my eyes and forced myself to focus on breathing.
“Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale”
When I caught my breath, my hands began to tremble and tears welled up in my eyes. My heart was beating painfully as I tried to process what I had just seen. I felt a devastating pain mixed with fury and disappointment. I tried to calm myself, but I couldn’t—something was burning inside me, a rage like I’d never felt before in my life. Henry had lied to me, he had played with my feelings. I wanted him out of my life once and for all; all he had done was make a fool of me, causing me immense pain.
Even though my soul was aching, I continued watching the scene in front of me. The man helped Henry into the car because he was staggering from drunkenness. After making sure he was seated, he said goodbye. The woman approached the man and kissed him on the cheek, and when she was seated behind the wheel of Henry’s car, she stuck her hand out the window and shouted:
»“Waylon, thanks for everything!”
Waylon? That was the name of the friend who had called him, I remembered it perfectly because Henry had mentioned him. My mind began working at full speed. If the friend knew this woman, she was probably someone special in his life. The soccer game had likely been a complete fabrication to meet up with them.
The woman started the car and joined the traffic.
I shouldn’t have done it, but I followed them. My disappointment grew even greater when I saw them arrive at his house. His deceitful words echoed in my mind:“You’re the first woman I’ve brought here, I’ve never come here with anyone.”Who knows how many women had paraded through his bed. And I had believed him... I had thought I was special to him. How stupid I felt! Damn liar, womanizer, and traitor! He was the worst person I had ever met in my life.
Fate had been cruel to me by putting him in my path again and again. That cursed, relentless fate, as if playing with me on a roller coaster, had made me go up and down, be happy and then wallow in misery. And for what? So that this manipulative, treacherous man would only end up breaking my heart.
I didn’t stay to watch them enter the house. I continued on my way; there was no need to see anything more. On the journey back to the hotel, I had to stop several times because my tears wouldn’t let me see clearly. I was furious with myself,reproaching myself for being so naive, so stupid, believing in his words, his caresses, his kisses.
I hadn’t cried this much since I lost my parents, but I wasn’t going to shed another tear for that man. He didn’t deserve a single tear from me! In reality, if he felt anything for me and respected me, he wouldn’t make me cry. But those feelings can’t be forced. Henry didn’t love me and never would. Was I crying over the loss? What had I lost? I hadn’t lost anything—if anything, he had lost someone who loved and respected him.
Sometimes you gain more when you lose.
“I give up,”I told myself.
I wasn’t giving up on life, never that—I was giving up on this situation. I wouldn’t look for explanations for his betrayal because I would never understand it. There was no place in his life for me. I would accept that he would never be mine; I would just be a tiny speck in his past.
It was necessary to close the door.
I arrived at the hotel close to midnight. Getting back to the hotel had taken longer than usual because of all the times I had to stop due to my tears. I took the elevator and headed to my suite. When I arrived, I sat down in the living room armchair. I needed to think about how to confront him. Surely, the shameless man was capable of showing up in front of me as if nothing had happened, as he had probably done on other occasions.
At that moment, my phone rang again. It was another message from the unknown number, and again it came with an image. In this one, Henry was sleeping peacefully in his bed, embracing the woman, and both were naked. The photograph had been taken by her because she was looking at the camera,and you could see her arm stretched out as if she were holding the phone to take the picture. I imagined it was one of his lovers who had gotten my number and, out of jealousy, decided to warn me about the lies of the man with whom we were sharing sex.
The text of the message:
“You were never the only one, stupid fool”
What could I reproach this woman for? Surely upon seeing her lover spending more time than usual with a “stupid and foolish” girl, she had decided to act this way. As cruel as it was, deep down I thanked her for having “removed the blindfold from my eyes.” Let them be happy and leave me in peace.
I knew it wasn’t an appropriate hour, but I needed to talk to someone, so I called Sean.
“Dali, do you know it’s not even six in the morning here?” was the first thing my friend said, answering with a sleepy voice.
“I’m sorry, Sean, I needed to talk...”
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked immediately.
“The truth is, I’m not. I’m destroyed, actually it’s my heart that’s been shredded to pieces.”
“Your boyfriend,” he stated.
“I think he was never my boyfriend or, better said, he was a shared boyfriend. The sad part is that I loved him like no one else, but he loved me like all his other lovers.”
“What a fucking bastard!”
