I got into my car and drove out of the hotel, each turn of the wheel a desperate attempt to outrun the truth, trying so hard to hold back my tears.
I picked up my phone from the passenger's seat, and dialed Ana's contact. She's the only person I needed to see at the moment.
"Hey, it's me," I choked out, a thin veneer of normalcy barely holding. "I'm coming to your apartment to get some rest."
"I was just even about to call you. My brother had just come back from Africa, and he's here with me now."
The energy drained from me. Ana, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me, continued to chatter about her brother.
I ended the call and redirected my drive to her house, a fresh wave of despair washing over me. This was not the refuge I'd envisioned.
When I arrived, Ana's embrace was a welcome anchor, but her keen eyes quickly pierced through my forced composure.
"Angel, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."
I managed a weak smile, the corners of my mouth stretching painfully. Her brother, a tall handsome guy, was seated nearby, and the words caught in my throat.
How could I articulate the shattering of my world with a stranger in the room?
"Nothing much. We'll talk about it soon." I murmured, hoping my voice didn't betray the tremor in my soul.
Ana, sensing my evasiveness but respecting my unspoken request, simply nodded.
"Angel, this is my elder brother, Frank. Frank, this is my best friend, Angel." She beamed, a flicker of pride in her eyes.
"Make yourself at home, darling. I just need to dash to the market for some groceries."
My heart sank a bit. This was my chance to escape, to unburden myself.
"Let's go together," I managed, the words catching. "You can't risk taking a cab when I'm here."
The truth was a desperate plea: I couldn't bear the thought of being alone with a stranger, especially when my soul felt so exposed. I needed Ana, needed to pour out the poison festering within me.
But Ana, ever practical and perhaps a little too trusting, waved off my offer.
"Don't worry babe. You can stay back and keep my brother company until I return." She said and dash out of the house.
A hollow silence descended between me and Frank. I pretended to be utterly consumed by unseen messages on my phone.
"Hey, I'm Frank, Ana's elder brother." Frank's broke the quiet.
I lifted my gaze, forcing a brittle smile. "I'm Angel. Ana is my best friend, and someone I don't take lightly." I said, the words laced with an unintended sharpness.
"It's nice meeting a beautiful damsel like you." He stood, approaching my seat, extending a hand that looked capable and strong. I stretched out my own to shake him.
"It's nice meeting you too." I replied, pulling my hand back perhaps a fraction too quickly.
He sat close to me, on the sofa cushion and crossed his hand on my shoulder, his fingers stroking my hair.
"So tell me, what do you do in this town?" he asked, his voice rich and low.
I swallowed, trying to regain my composure. "Well, I'm the CEO of Angel Luxury Collections. We specialize in selling gold necklaces and diamond wristwatches."
"Wow, your fiancé must be a rich guy," he commented, his hand sliding down from my shoulder, settling on my waist.
I wasn't comfortable with his touch, the intimacy too sudden, too close after what I just witnessed from Alex. But I couldn't speak; my voice was trapped somewhere in the suffocating grief, and I just let him touch me.
Then, his lips, soft and surprisingly found the sensitive skin of my neck. He started kissing my neck, gentle nips and soft presses that ignited a forgotten fire. In that moment, the revelations of Alex and Annabelle's treachery, seemed to melt away. The pain, the anger, the tears, they all receded, replaced by a desperation, and craving.
I was really enjoying it, despite myself, despite everything.
"Please stop," I managed to speak, the words a mere whisper, completely devoid of real conviction. My body, however, leaned subtly into his touch, betraying the lie.
Frank didn't stop. Instead, his hand, warm and firm, moved from my waist, inching upwards until it rested on my breast.
He started pressing it gently. My mind was losing its battle against the intoxicating closeness. I leaned closer to him, drawn in by a primal urge, and we were lost in a deep kiss, a desperate embrace that tasted of escape and forbidden pleasure.
He quickly unzipped my short gown revealing the swell of my breasts. A sudden flush of realization hit me: I hadn't worn a bra when I'd stormed out of my house. He lowered his head, his breath hot against my skin, and started sucking my nipples, a deep, hungry pull that sent shivers through every nerve.
A moan escaped my lips, a sound I barely recognized as my own. My hands shot up, tangling in his dark hair, holding his head tight, urging him to continue.