Devil I Loved

Defiled

The first soft rays of dawn filtered through my curtains, painting my room in hues of rose and lavender.

I woke up feeling sore and a persistent ache resonated between my legs with every move I made.

“What happened?” I voiced out...

I tried to sit up, but waves of agony seized me, causing me to stagger. My hand instinctively reached for the bedside table. It anchored me for the moment before I finally stood straight. I felt drowsy, but my gaze turned to the pink bedsheet, which was now stained with blood.

I got scared.

It was unusual because I had just finished going through my monthly cycle a few days ago. I didn’t bother removing the sheet as I headed for the bathroom.

I slowly made my way to the bathroom, each step agonizing due to the pain I felt. The tiles beneath my feet in my little cozy apartment didn't offer me solace with their coolness.

I glanced at my reflection, and a choked gasp escaped my throat. My clothes, which had been neatly arranged when I left Cassian's apartment, were now disheveled and undone. I looked at my terrible state, as though I had been caught in a pillow fight of candies, or a drunken frenzy of passion.

But I didn’t drink.

Then it hit me.

I felt a warm prickling sensation behind my eyes before tears began welling as I tried to recall anything about the previous night. But it was all to no avail.

I hurriedly went back to my bedroom and searched for my phone. When I found it, I couldn't hold it right as the thought consumed me.

I had been r***d.

It was the only explanation that could reconcile the fragmented clues, the pain, the blood, the violated state of my body.

My thumb hovered over the emergency line to make a report, but as I dialed, I realized I was chasing clouds because I hadn't seen anyone come into my room last night. Neither was there evidence of forced entry, and the only person who knew my apartment password was my boyfriend, Jaden.

Then it occurred to me.

Jaden and I had been dating for almost two years, but our relationship had been one of cautious intimacy. We had shared stolen kisses, gentle touches, the quiet comfort of intertwined hands. We had made out, yes, exploring the boundaries of our affection, but never had we crossed the path of having s*x.

I held a deeply personal conviction, a steadfast belief that physical intimacy before marriage was something sacred, something reserved for a future, hallowed union. To me, it was a matter of profound shame to transgress that boundary. And now, my own body, once a temple of my beliefs, felt defiled, utterly disgusting in my own eyes.

A suspicion ignited within me; it was cold and sharp: Jaden. He was the only one. He must have defiled me, despite every conversation, every heartfelt plea I had shared with him about my beliefs regarding s*x.

The phone rang, three agonizing rings before Jaden's familiar voice, imbued with an unsuspecting warmth, finally broke through.

"What did you do? What have you done? Was that all you ever wanted from me? I hate you, Jaden, I hate you!" I couldn't control the words, leaving no space for him to speak, no opportunity for explanation. I cut the call, the abrupt silence amplifying the chaos within me.

Moments later, his name flashed across my screen, a relentless barrage of calls. I watched, mesmerized by the ringing, tears streaming down my face, blurring the insistent demand of his name. I didn't answer. I couldn't.

I cried and cried until my throat ached.

After some time, it seemed as though the tears had stopped rushing from my eyes, but I still felt embittered. I sat up with a newfound resolve. I was going to make him pay.

There was a knock on the door; I didn't pay any attention to it nor did I make an attempt to check who it was. Seconds turned to minutes as I leaned on the wall, feeling depressed about my situation.

Then I heard the door passcode being typed in, and within seconds it opened. I got scared.

He was here. Jaden had come to finish what he started, to complete the violation. My head snapped up, eyes wide with a desperate, animal fear. "What are you doing here, you monster? Get away from me! Get away!"

Jaden stood frozen in the doorway, his face etched with confusion, a bewildered innocence that only fueled my rage. "Amira, calm down. What is wrong with you? What has gotten over you?" The words, meant to soothe, only ignited a fresh wave of tears. "I trusted you, Jay, I trusted you…" I managed to say...

"What did I do?" he pleaded, his voice laced with genuine bewilderment.

"Don't you dare act innocent right now. It won't save you." In a blur of motion, I snatched my phone and bolted for the bathroom, locking the door with my trembling hand. I dialed the emergency line and relayed the terrifying tale to the police crying.

Minutes stretched into an unbearable eternity, punctuated only by Jaden's frantic pleas from the other side of the door as he begged, called my name, implored me to come out and talk to him, to explain. But I was lost, utterly consumed by my predicament, adrift in a sea of loathing for the person I believed had cast me into this abyss.

Then, the distant wail of sirens, grew louder, closer, until they shrieked to a halt outside my building. A sharp knock on the apartment door, and then a calm and authoritative spoke.

"You're under arrest." Jaden, who had opened the door tried to speak, to protest, but they wouldn't allow it.

"Miss, miss. You can come out now," the police officers called out.

"What is going on, Amira? Why did you call the cops on me?" Jaden’s voice, now filled with anger, cut through the air. I ignored him, my gaze fixed on the locked door.

"You can follow us to the station if you want to press charges," the officers stated.

"Press charges? Why? Can someone tell me what I'm being arrested for?" Jaden's voice rose, edged with incredulity and fury.

"Drugging and r****g me, Jaden. That's why," I finally uttered, my voice thin and tearful, but firm in its accusation.

"What do you mean, drugging? r**e? Who touched you? What happened?" Jaden's words tumbled out, a cascade of genuine concern, his anger momentarily forgotten in the face of my accusation. He turned to the police officers, his plea laced with an almost desperate urgency. "She's my girlfriend, and although I have no idea what she's talking about, I need to talk to her. Could you give us a moment? You can leave the cuffs on if you don't trust me." He asked.

He watched as I crumpled, my body wracked with fresh sobs.

The officers exchanged glances, then looked at me. They asked if I wished to speak with him, but my whispered "No" was unwavering. As they began to lead Jaden away.

"I have an alibi!" he exclaimed. "I haven't seen Amira for two days. She said she was working. You can check my phone, see videos, call my friends."

At his words, a flicker of doubt, cold and unwelcome, pierced through my conviction. I sat up, my eyes wide, and gave a curt nod to the officers, a silent command for them to do as he asked.

They unlocked his phone, navigating to his gallery. And there, stark and undeniable, was the evidence. Videos, timestamps, all confirming his whereabouts. The time between when I had returned home and the current moment, Jaden was indeed at a club.

They had to go ahead and contact one of his friends, who worked at the Club, and within minutes, footage of Jaden, clearly visible throughout the entire night, was sent. Yet, even with this irrefutable proof, a shadow of doubt, a lingering suspicion, clung to my heart. It didn't fully clear my mind.

With a few hesitant words, I dismissed the police officers, their presence fading into the background as the reality of the situation began to settle upon me. I walked back into my bedroom, to find Jaden still there, his face was a mask of disbelief and anger.

First, I didn't confide in him. Second, I had called the police, accusing him of the most heinous act imaginable.

"I always thought that we would fight through thick and thin. You never loved me, did you?" Jaden's voice was low, tinged with disappointment, a deep dejection that pierced through the residual anger.

"I don't know how it happened, I woke up and there was pain between my legs and I saw blood and…" I began, my voice a fragile whisper.

"Those things don't mean you had s*x! You are paranoid, and you had to embarrass me like that." He stood up from the stained sheets, his movements agitated, pacing the room. "What happened to talking? What happened to me being your other half? I was never really in your heart, was I?"

"No, Jaden, that's not it, I was…"

"Nothing justifies what you just did. Throwing me under the bus, just like that. I thought we had something going on? I thought we would have each other's back?"

"I'm sorry," I whispered, the words tasting raw in my mouth. An awful weight pressed down on me. "I didn't know what to do."

"What to do? Are you serious, Amira? Are you being serious?" Jaden's voice rose, edged with incredulity and hurt. "What you should have done was ask. Asked if I had come by last night. Asked if I was nearby, or anything that wasn't going to involve calling the cops on your boyfriend, Amira!" His voice cracked with betrayal.

"I… I…" I stuttered, the words caught in my throat, unable to articulate the whirlwind of fear, confusion, and despair that had consumed me in that moment.

"You what, Amira? You're sorry? Sorry doesn't fix that I was almost dragged by the police for doing something that I didn't do. For something you're not even sure about." He inhaled deeply, as if steeling himself for a difficult, painful decision. His head slowly rose, his eyes, now devoid of anger, locked with mine, brimming instead with sadness.

"You know, if you had called me and asked me to come, I would have. And if you were truly assaulted, as you claimed, I would have been there for you. I would do everything to find out who had done that to you. But I guess you don't trust me enough to be by your side." His said, his voice now heavy with disappointment.

"It's over, Amira. Let's not cross paths again."

"What are you saying?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, filled with a sudden, gripping fear.

"You're all I want and more. But with the recent things that have happened to me, to you, to us?" He swept his hand through the air, a gesture encompassing the shattered fragments of our shared history. "I think the universe is against us. Be safe, Amira." And just like a flicker of light extinguished in the vast darkness, my world came crashing down.

Behind his effortless charm and disarming smile hid a truth so vile, it shattered everything I thought I knew. I believed he was my friend—my confidant, my protector. Someone who stood by me because he saw my worth. But it wasn’t loyalty. It was guilt. Guilt for what he did. Guilt for what would happen to me when I finally vanished from his life.