MY VALENTINE’S WISH

CHAPTER 2 : HE IS NOT REMORSEFUL

Debbie stood frozen, her heart hammering in her chest as the scene before her unfolded. It felt like an out-of-body experience, like she was watching someone else’s nightmare. For a full thirty seconds, she didn’t know what to do. Her body screamed for her to run—to turn around and pretend she had never come. But another part of her, the part that still loved Mark, refused to move.

Say something, Debbie. Do something.

Tears welled in her eyes, and before she could stop herself, she called his name.

“What are you doing, Mark?”

Her voice cracked, betraying the pain tearing through her.

Mark’s head snapped toward the doorway, and for a brief moment, she saw it—the flicker of shock in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came. Instead of scrambling for an apology or showing any sign of remorse, he calmly grabbed the duvet and covered the naked woman beside him, as if protecting her from Debbie’s presence.

The woman sat up, her expression twisted with irritation.

“Who is this girl, and what is she doing in your house?” she asked, her voice filled with entitlement.

Debbie turned her gaze to her. She was beautiful—long, dark hair cascading over her bare shoulders, her full lips pouting in annoyance rather than guilt.

Mark hesitated for a second before clearing his throat. “Ehm… ehm… she’s my mother’s sister’s daughter,” he stammered. “She came to deliver something to me.”

Debbie flinched.

Of all the things he could have said, this was the one he chose?

Her stomach churned as her mind tried to process the words. He lied. Right in front of her. Without hesitation. Without shame.

Tears blurred her vision as she took slow, shaky steps toward the bed. She looked down at the woman—no, the stranger—who was lying comfortably in the place Debbie had once imagined as hers.

“Mark and I are lovers,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

The woman’s eyes widened before she turned to Mark with fury. “What did you just say?” she demanded, her tone laced with disbelief.

Mark remained silent, but Debbie saw the panic flicker across his face.

“Mark, what is going on?” the woman—Aria—asked, her tone rising. “Do you and this… smelling thing have a fling?”

Debbie felt the insult slap her across the face harder than any physical blow could. Her breath hitched as she looked at Mark, hoping—begging—for him to correct the woman. To stand up for her. To show that, at the very least, he had once loved her.

But Mark did no such thing.

Instead, his jaw tightened, and before Debbie could react, he grabbed her arm and pushed her out of the room.

“Mark—” she gasped, but he didn’t let her finish.

He dragged her through the apartment, his grip firm and unyielding. She stumbled as he pulled her down the stairs, her mind racing to keep up with what was happening.

Finally, when they reached the sidewalk, Mark let go.

For a moment, Debbie thought he was going to apologize.

Maybe he would explain. Maybe—just maybe—he would say that it was all a mistake.

Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a bundle of cash, and shoved it into her palm.

“I know you came to me because of money,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “Here, take this. Use it to have a better life. I know you can’t afford one, so manage it.”

Debbie’s fingers curled around the money, her entire body trembling.

“This should be enough until you make another one,” Mark continued. Then he let out a low chuckle. “Not that I think you’ll ever see this much money again.”

Debbie stared at him, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.

“Mark… tell me why you cheated on me,” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mark sighed and rolled his eyes. “You never wanted me to touch you, Debbie,” he said.

She swallowed hard.

“For four good years, I have been with you. Not even a kiss. Not even once. You are cruel, Debbie.”

Her chest ached at his words.

Cruel?

She was cruel?

She had loved him. She had taken him in when he had no one. She had been patient, kind, and understanding. And now, after everything, this was what he thought of her?

Mark stepped closer, his expression hard. “I am a man with desires, Debbie. But you never let me have fun with you.”

Before she could stop herself, she raised her hand and slapped him.

The sound echoed in the empty street, but Mark barely flinched.

He simply smirked, as if he had expected it.

Debbie turned away, her heart pounding in her chest. She needed to leave. She needed to get as far away from him as possible.

But then she looked down at the money in her hand.

She had almost forgotten about it.

Slowly, she turned back to him.

With trembling fingers, she took the bundle of cash and shoved it back into his chest.

Mark’s smirk faltered.

“I am not a beggar,” she said, her voice firm despite the tears streaming down her face.

She turned away again, this time without hesitation.

She walked toward the road and flagged down a taxi.

As she climbed inside, she gave the driver no direction—because at that moment, she had no idea where she was going.

All she knew was that she had to get away.

From Mark.

From the pain.

From the life she had built around a man who had never truly loved her.

And as the taxi pulled away, leaving Mark and his betrayal behind, Debbie made a silent vow to herself.

She would never let anyone break her like this again.

Not ever.

The driver stole a glance at Debbie through the rearview mirror, his brows furrowed in concern. She sat motionless in the backseat, her arms wrapped around herself as if she was holding her broken pieces together. Her eyes were glassy, staring at nothing in particular, lost in thoughts too painful to put into words.

Clearing his throat, the driver spoke up.

“Ma’am, you haven’t told me where to drop you off.”

Debbie blinked, as if just realizing where she was.

Her voice was hoarse when she finally spoke. “Take me to a good, quiet place… somewhere with strong drinks.”

The driver gave a small nod. He had seen this look before—the look of someone trying to drown their sorrow. Without another word, he turned the wheel and headed toward the most popular club in the city.

The neon lights of The Blue Orchid flickered against the dark sky as the taxi pulled up in front of the entrance. It was a well-known spot, buzzing with energy every night. Loud music, expensive drinks, and people looking to forget their problems, even if just for a few hours.

“We’re here, ma’am.”

Debbie exhaled slowly and reached into her tote bag. She pulled out some cash and handed it to him before stepping out of the taxi.

The cool night air hit her skin, but it did nothing to numb the ache in her chest.

Taking a deep breath, she walked toward the entrance.

Inside, the club was alive with energy. The music pulsed through the walls, the bass vibrating in her bones. Strobe lights flashed, casting shadows over the crowd of people dancing, laughing, and drinking as if the world outside didn’t exist.

Debbie walked straight to the bar.

“Something strong,” she told the bartender, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her.