Drinks and Duty
988 Words
The morning light barely crept through the heavy curtains, casting a soft glow on the vast master bedroom. The bed was wide, almost cavernous, and pillows formed a clear barrier dividing it like a fault line between two worlds—Zay on one side, Rhea on the other.
Zay stirred, eyes still heavy with sleep, but they caught sight of her—Rhea—serene, untouched by the harshness that both of them felt. His lips curved in a bitter smile as he whispered to himself, “For a she-devil, you sleep like an angel.”
He wanted to believe that this was not the reality they had to live in—not this forced union, this marriage bound by duty, not love. A deep sigh escaped him. “I need to think of how to get rid of this marriage. This… situation. It’s mine to fix.”
His thoughts were interrupted by the shrill ring of his phone. Groaning, Zay grabbed it from the nightstand.
“Bro! How’s the newlywed life?” Ramon's voice crackled through.
Zay snapped, “Stop. I hate it.”
“Come on, man, loosen up. Just because you’re trapped doesn’t mean you can’t have fun. Let’s hit the club tonight. You need to get out.”
Zay glanced at Rhea’s peaceful form. “Yeah… I need to get out of this cage.”
Within minutes, he was dressed, grabbing his keys, careful not to disturb her. He eased the door closed behind him and slipped into the early morning chill.
Unbeknownst to him, Rhea’s eyes fluttered open the moment the door clicked shut. She lay still for a moment, watching him drive away from the window like a little boy sneaking out of his crib. A smirk tugged at her lips.
“You little baby,” she muttered. “Looks like I’ll have to clean your diapers from now on. We can stay like this—a year maybe. But Zay… things will change.”
The Club
The pounding bass hit Zay’s chest as soon as he entered the club, a stark contrast to the silent tension of his home. The smell of sweat, perfume, and alcohol filled the air, mingling with flashes of neon lights and laughter.
Ramon was waiting at the bar with their usual crowd. “Zay, you made it! Drinks on you tonight?”
Zay raised his glass. “Yeah, why not?”
The night slipped into a blur of shots, loud cheers, and the careless abandon he had been craving. His friends whistled as a group of girls danced nearby, their eyes flickering with interest.
“Look at those girls, Zay! You gonna join?” one teased.
Another warned, “Wait, aren’t you married now? What would your wife think?”
Zay laughed, a little too loudly. “I don’t care. All I want is to forget about that marriage. Just for tonight.”
The hours stretched late into the night. Zay wandered through the crowd, caught up in the noise, the fleeting freedom.
Suddenly, a shadowy voice cut through the music.
“Where have you been?”
Zay’s heart jumped. He spun around, startled, as the lights snapped on. There stood Rhea, her arms crossed, eyes sharp and unforgiving.
“You’re twenty-eight, with a company to run. And it could all be taken away by your cousin.”
She pursed her lips. “Go to bed. Have a good night. And lay off the drinking.”
Zay was stunned—he expected anger, a fight, maybe tears. Instead, cold logic.
He followed her silently, the weight of her words heavier than any hangover as they both slipped into bed, the gap between them wider than ever.
Morning Drumbeat
The next day, Zay was jolted awake by a sound like a drum pounding in his ears. Rhea’s voice, sharp and commanding, sliced through the haze.
“Time to get up! You don’t want to be late. Get dressed in five minutes—especially since you can dress in two when you’re going to the club.”
Zay groaned but didn’t argue. The fight from last night still simmered in his mind, but the reality of his responsibilities was inescapable.
The Drive
As they drove through the bustling city streets, Zay’s curiosity broke the silence. “Where exactly are we going?”
Rhea glanced at him, calm but firm. “We’re going to your mom’s.”
Zay stiffened. “That’s a long ride.”
The Meeting
The moment they entered the grand building, a hush fell over the room. Eyes darted between them, whispers rippling through the crowd.
“No way…” someone murmured.
Rhea’s grip on Zay’s arm tightened as they approached the main door.
Inside, waiting with a gentle smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, was Zay’s mother.
“Thank you, Rhea, for finally bringing my son,” she said, voice warm but with an undercurrent of steel.
Rhea nodded politely. “No problem, Ma.”
Zay’s eyes flicked between them, irritation bubbling.
“Yes, yes, you came to see my mother,” he said abruptly. “Now I’m going back home.”
“No, you won’t,” Rhea replied, voice steady.
“We came here to work—me and you,” she added.
“What?” Zay’s disbelief was clear. “I don’t want to. I’m married , which you force me into I don’t want to get involved.”
His mother’s voice cut through, firm and cold. “You must. You’re a married man now. And you have duties your late father wanted you to fulfill.”
Zay’s jaw clenched as he turned on his heel and stormed out.
The Twist
But as Zay left, neither woman noticed the figure lurking just beyond the doorway—silent, watching, a faint smirk curling his lips.
Micheal—Zay’s cousin and his fiercest rival—just returned.
And the game was about to begin.
- Writer
