Prologue
The energy inside the club was at its peak, and aloof from the crowd stood a woman in the corner, Myra. Dressed in a beige-colored body-hugging dress with bold red lips, she looked nothing less than a seductress. Though petite, there was something about her that was intriguing. She was accompanied by her friend, Sharon, who was doing everything to engross her in mischievous chat about men around, but to no avail. Myra’s eyes told everything that she was feeling from inside—sorrow.
“Myra, you have to let him go,” Sharon said, interrupting her thoughts.
Sharon observed how Myra was only holding her drink and was lost somewhere.
Giving her signature smile with a glint of sorrow, Myra replied, “He already left me. Can I do anything now?” With that, she drowned her drink in two chugs.
“Woah! Let’s go and burn the dance floor!” Myra said, sounding cheerful.
Sharon couldn’t help rolling her eyes at her failed attempt.
The in-house DJ was playing the trance. Myra closed her eyes and lost herself in a daze, letting the music slowly fade her sorrow away. With each beat, she felt her mind replaying her past in front of her, and one by one, she was letting it out of her memoir.
Suddenly the music seemed to stop. Loud voices could be heard from somewhere near the bar counter that was designed in such a way it looked like an underground floor rather than a part of the club. Myra opened her eyes and witnessed the same confused expression on her friend’s face. When they noticed the crowd gathering towards the railing separating the counter and the dance floor, they immediately walked towards it to see the cause.
Myra heard an angry voice followed by a loud grunt. Her instinct suddenly went on high alert on its own, which seemed to have confused her. She could make out a male voice yelling profusely while hitting someone.
Why do I feel scared all of a sudden? She thought while walking briskly along with her friend.
When she had a clear view, she saw the back of a man crouched down over someone, clutching the collar, and giving a punch one after the other. She felt her eyelids start fluttering like a bad omen. She didn’t have time to register when suddenly she heard the man who was hitting roar, “Son of a bitch, you dare! SHE IS MY WIFE!”
She gasped and held her breath as she was too familiar with the voice and the anger behind it. She snapped out of her thoughts when she felt a burning gaze on her, and her black orbs immediately locked with the brown ones.
She couldn’t stand on her shaking legs and almost lost her balance when Sharon held her. She, too, had the same horrid expression as Myra.
The rage Myra saw in his eyes made her flinch, and the next moment she ran, she ran to save herself before the promised wrath in those brown eyes could engulf her. Her instinct told her to run, and she obliged without caring about the direction she was going. When she came to her senses, she realized she was in one of the restrooms. One look at her reflection froze her.
She saw the reflection of a trembling woman, her face tear-stained, which she didn’t even realize till then. She put her trembling hands over her mouth to stop her whimpers. The neighboring girl gave a sympathetic glance, and Myra quickly averted her gaze, turning the water faucet with her trembling hand. She was startled when she heard someone shrieking.
“Who the fuck are you? This is the women’s restroom, you asshole!”
Before Myra could comprehend who shrieked or whom that girl was cursing, her forearm was harshly pulled, and she came across the same angry orbs.
She froze when she realized Abram had followed her inside the restroom.
All she saw was fury in his eyes, scanning her from head to toe, and the scowl deepened, noticing her body-hugging dress. His nostrils were flaring like an angry bull.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” before she could open her mouth, he continued.
“What the hell are you wearing?!” Abram yelled while roughly grabbing her by her arms, making her flinch.
“Please…..” she gulped in fear and continued, “Please, you are hurting me.”
She didn’t know whether she should be happy to see him after two years or if she should be afraid of his anger as before?
