A Night of Sin

“You know I love you right?” The devil questioned in a monotone, watching me with those laser beams eyes that radiated masculinity and danger in equal doses. My heart hammered against my breastbone due to the proximity.

When we were much younger, we were taught about the devil. We were taught that he was lurking behind dark corners, awaiting the perfect opportunity to bewitch idle minds.

I guess that was a lie. The devil wasn’t only lurking behind dark corners, he could also be found in broad daylight. The devil was right in front of me, obstructing my way and towering over me. He was my boyfriend – Jake. He had slapped me a few minutes ago.

Standing six feet tall, Jake arched an eyebrow, looking down at me with a mix of irritation and boredom. “Can’t you speak?”

I managed to detach my tongue from the roof of my mouth and unglued my back from the wall. Horrified of what was to come next, I whispered. “I know you love me.”

“Good.” He nodded and lifted my chin, causing me to glance up at him directly. Big, jet black-haired, and utterly muscular. His chiseled jaw was covered in scruff and he had a sensuous mouth that spat profanities each time we had a misunderstanding.

Fear gripped me, causing my stomach to drop to the floor. Aware of my plight, his lips pulled into a small, smug, and mocking smile. That was the quintessential Jake — he took pleasure in seeing my eyes redden with fear.  Soon, the smile on his face disappeared as though it were never there.

He frowned, haunting me with those blue eyes that burned brighter than ever. “You don’t just get it. I don’t like it when you smile and talk to other guys.” With that, he stormed into his room, banging the door violently behind him, the abrupt bang causing my heart to skip.

Tiredly, I dropped into the overstuffed leather chair across from the sofa, staring morosely at my feet as I plunged my mind into deep thoughts.

How long would I continue like this? I had already stopped talking to the few male friends I had because of him. Today, he had seen me talking to a guy and he had gotten angry over it. Apparently, to him, that translated to cheating.

Dating someone like Jake was exhausting and terrifying but I couldn’t let go of him. At least, not yet. Not when he was paying for my mother’s treatment which I couldn’t afford. Not when he was offering financial favors that I desperately needed. Money: That was the one thing that tied me to him but I never made it obvious. I still tried my best to assist him in any way I could.

Sometimes, I wondered if his case was a mental illness. The anger, the way he twisted scenarios when explaining… It just didn’t make sense. Of course, I’d leave him after he has finished paying for Mom’s treatment or when I no longer needed his financial support. Even though I held on to him because of the financial support I got from him, I was worried about the girl that would date him after me. She would go through hell; nobody deserved that.

I grabbed my phone from the leather handbag I usually carried whenever I went to work (because it matched well with my uniform). I texted my best friend — Amy.

Me: baby g, he accused me of cheating again.

Her reply came in almost immediately.

Amy: Isn’t he tired of that? You should come home already.

I replied as soon as I saw her text.

Me: Maybe you should ask him and yeah, I’ll come home soon.

I sighed, pressing the power button on my phone and the light went out. I kept the phone in my bag, retrieved my handkerchief, and wiped my face. I wanted to leave the house without informing him and then the doorbell rang. As I opened the door, I saw a caramel-skinned girl dressed all back, probably in her early twenties, with blonde frizzy curls and dark shades which gave her a formidable appearance.

It occurred to me that I had never met any of Jake’s siblings in the past few months that we had been dating. I assumed she was Jake’s sister because he once told me that he doesn’t have any female friends.

“Hey,” I greeted, smiling while stretching out my hand for a handshake.

She gave me a withering look, frowning. “Who are you?” She questioned, raising a curious brow at me and I withdrew my hand still wearing a beautiful smile on my face. I hoped it was contagious but it wasn’t.

“I’m Leila, Jake’s girlfriend,” I replied, beaming.

The girl let out a bitter chuckle. “Wow, so you’re the slut who has been having an affair with my boyfriend.” I didn’t know if it was a question or not but she raised a curious brow at me sarcastically, then continued. “And you dare open your lousy mouth to call yourself his girlfriend?”

My heartbeat raced at the mention of that word: Slut. I clutched my purse tightly with one hand, the other fist clenching as anger coursed through my veins.

“Excuse me, who are you?” I asked, surprised. She ignored me, pushing past my shoulder as she made her way into Jake’s apartment.

“Baby,” she called out and Jake rushed in, eyes wide. I stood there, watching them through the door that was ajar.

“What are you doing here?” he asked her in a frantic tone. “This is my boyfriend’s house, am I not allowed to come here anymore?” She asked, jokingly while throwing her hands around his tensed shoulders and he pushed her away, peeking through the house to check if I was still around.

His blue eyes met my cold stare, and his face morphed into a sober expression. “It’s not what it looks like.” He said and I bent down to pick up my bag that had fallen when she called him ‘baby’.

“In my presence, you’re still trying to explain to your slut?” The stupid blondie asked him angrily. The wave of anger that crashed on me manifested in my actions as I walked into the house and gave her a resounding warning of her life.

Unfazed, I faced her specifically, “Apparently, you are the slut. If he had you already, then why did he go after me?”