Love at the Nth Time

Selfless Pain

Chapter 48

Celine's POV

Make yourself at home as if it was not my own, yet it denoted suffocation. The significant memories, broken promises, emotional misery which turned to the distrust of oneself and others could be seen in the realm of once completeness.

My first, of everything, he was. Expectations of what the future holds embroiled the essential people in my life. The one at fault wasn't held accountable.

Thoughts of not taking the risk, taking others' world into an innocent mine, only stupid, fitted the title, and I was partly the one to blame.

"Bro Ryan is more useful," scolded my brother, who's younger than me. Sighing inaudibly, I eyed him. Hands stopped on the electric wire of the switch.

"I'm getting the hang of it," I proclaimed, and used the plier to connect the cords that got cut up.

He kicked the lifeless mice on the floor, and his eyes watched the two youngest siblings of an unadorned wooden house. He shouted at Rocky, who laid his hands on the tools, and my heart pounded with eyes widened on the stool he left behind, tottering as I set foot on the ground.

"Jericho! Warn me before you leave! Endangering the person who acts in your stead," I murmured the last words and shut the cover of the switch after fixing it.

The old man of the house avoided any work, letting his kids do it instead, and who knew what he was up to whenever he neglected the responsibilities he once promised from a lot of witnesses. I enabled the positivity to surround me with the business training I acquired convinced the bitter, sarcastic side living inside.

I could use the electrical experience someday. Hell, I dreamt of doing a man's work. It was sexist how it whined in my head; being brave only a woman could do.

"Did you throw it away?"

"Yes, boss. The disgusting smell won't trouble you anymore," he notified plainly, and yelled at Carla, giggling as she snatched the screwdriver that Jericho was organizing, running behind mom.

"Your sister, Shiela, didn't come home again last night, Ceng. Are you going out today with Hu?" The last name of the Chinese man, his given name, was not easy to remember.

"I will," I answered and gulped over the lie I had committed today.

"Loads of urgent tasks, same ol', later?" the deep, refined voice of a woman loitered in my head.

The main reason for liberation from the battles was laid out under the influence of a particular person in search of not doing the same painful routine, intending to alter the life given to us. The view of carrying out the rules forbids us to do so.

Various cuisines of chosen restaurants, never-ending conversations about the activities, and the abrupt out of towns we ventured, wishing time would stop every time we were together.

The new auto she owned, which I had grown familiar with, stopped us from a bar wherein loud music screamed outside. Seth took off her seatbelt.

"What are we doing here?" She got out even though I dithered not to, solely followed her. My heart pounded in sync with the beat of people's talented voices, rang in my ear, and the panting inaudibly escaped from my mouth as the smell of liquors, cigarettes, and unfamiliar scents blocking the airways made me a bit dizzy.

"Hey, cardigan girl," jested Deo as soon as we sat down on the stools at the bar counter. Passing a glass of red wine handed by Seth from Deo, the smell of bitter fermented grapes touched my moistened lips. Bothered behind the reason, I met up with Seth, yet somehow, I pulled myself to mingle in the crowd opposite the comfort zone manifested as the time slipped by. "Twice meeting you, what brings you here?" he inquired.

A polite smile in response. "I, I don't know-" Seth leaned closer to face Deo sitting on the stool next to me.

"We're up for the loud crowd," Seth interjected merrily. Sipped on the wine, my foot wanting to leave Seth placed a trap, her smile which I'd ponder repeatedly.

Foreigners blended among the locals with no gender restrictions on whom to want into contact with. Everyone's so lively.

"See those two couples? Met here coincidentally. They've been here almost all night." Eyed Deo, Seth took a glance. Two men were dancing in the crowd of different races. Deo moved closer, facing Seth a centimetre apart in front of me. "We're serving coke in the house, good?" Glass thudded on the counter, glowered, my hand clasped at the arm of Seth beside me.

"I know that. We refused," I firmly uttered, my voice turned deep. Seth chuckled softly.

"Not that I don't want it. Veto," Seth declared. Waves of meaning registered in my head till a conclusion occurred, but my active response was halted by a woman who stepped in suddenly, clinging to Seth.

"Sethy baby. I know you just by seeing your back. Come dance with me," she wheedled, wearing a cami top and short skirt, sexy and a black beauty hard to turn down. I smiled at her when our eyes met. She smiled back and stood behind me. My heart pounded over the hands that grasped my shoulders, feeling my boobs down. A yelp broke out in me, and I covered my mouth to cut it. Seth grabbed her hand away.

"What the f*ck are you doing?" The woman behind me raised her brows, triumphantly smiling as if she had confirmed something concealed. I turned around my head to look up at her, frowning.

"You think you can grope others' boobs? It's small, I know," I bleated. The three went dumbfounded and laughed. I chuckled over the naughty play. Move back as the woman cupped my chin.

"I like you, girl. What's your name?" she asked. My mouth stopped opening halfway as she lifted her hand. "Babies, come here!!" she called out to people in a group.

"Oh, ho ho," Deo marvelled, and I found the great wonder he displayed as the other ladies, young and older than me, dragged me to their table. Ceaseless of drinks, skinship, and dancing, they offered. I was screaming with a smile. Rejecting them formally and in a friendly tone, stiff to behave however I like, still welcome. Late at midnight, Seth carried me to her unit. Wasted it was, I lost track of time.

My head pulsating as the pain struck slowly, Seth passed me a mug of tea, and I stared somewhere blankly again. Seth chortled, later sipped her tea.

"I didn't expect you had it in you," she praised, laughing a little.

"Where's my phone?" I uttered and seized it on the nightstand. Missed calls from mom and a message sent me a recognition of a dilemma. Jumping off the bed, I hurried to prepare for leaving.

"What's going on?" questioned Seth, standing still, and her eyes followed my every move.

"I'll text you when I get home, bye," I stated loudly, scurrying through the door.

"Hey, I'll drive you-" Door closed, nothing in mind other than going home early and reasons for unresponsive contact. I arrived home, and Carla was crying.

Michael, an 8-year-old child, was the third-youngest sibling who behaved more maturely than Jericho. The guy continued cooking after he gazed at me and called mom. I picked up Carla, lulled her to stop the fight with Rocky, and headed into the room while all the women in the family shared the same area. I opened the half-open door.

"Ma, sorry, my phone went out of battery. I slept over at our business partner, Nicka," I reasoned the college friend of mine.

Mom threw the T-shirt she was folding and looked daggers at me with tears that weakened my knees and resolved the issue by layers of lies again.

"You didn't meet with Hu, and you're not with Nicka! Is this how you repay me?!" A lump in my throat, I couldn't speak, and my eyes clouded with tears similar to the meaning behind my mom's emotions about them. Gently, I put down Carla. Michael uttered to beckon her out of the room. Quivered lips, only biting them to control my anger over supporting the family without their support for me. Only could I cry and accept being a bad daughter, which she was imparting me with guilt and conscience.