Crossroads of Deceit

Chapter 5

As the week drew to a close, a sense of relief washed over me. It had been a hectic week, but now it was Friday, time to unwind and have fun with my best friend Emma and my cousin Pee. I had met Emma in college, and once we met, we all clicked. Pee, on the other hand, had known her since we were little. Sharing the same age, our mothers had a tradition of dressing us alike, sending us to the same school, and staging a myriad of shared experiences. Our connection was so deep that strangers often mistook us for twins. I loved and cherished them so much because they had both impacted my life.

As I knocked on the door, I was received by my bestie who grinned brightly at me.

"I've got pizza!" I said, raising the pizza box, which was quickly snatched by Emma.

"Pizza!" she exclaimed excitedly.

"And to think she was excited to see me," I said as I walked in.

Pee made her entrance, radiating beauty as always. Her stunning blonde hair, a stark contrast to my own brown hair, cascaded down her waist in a graceful flow. Slender and slightly taller than me, she embodied the essence of elegance, earning her the affectionate nickname "Barbie" for her radiant blonde hair and captivating beauty. As she approached, a warm embrace enveloped me, a familiar and comforting gesture

"It is so nice to see you," she said sweetly.

"Same, and look at you glowing," I replied, making her blush.

"You guys can catch up while I pounce on this pizza," Emma said, devouring a piece. Unlike Pee who had a slim and slender figure, Emma embraced her own unique beauty on the curvier side. What captivated me about Emma was her unapologetic confidence she cared little about societal judgments regarding her body. A staunch advocate for what she believed in, Emma stood up for what was right and embodied the spirit of a true feminist. Her caramel skin radiated a healthy glow, and her curly hair was casually arranged in a messy bun, adorned with little freckles that added a touch of charm to her face.

We all smiled, and I said, "Hey, keep some for us."

Dressed in our comfortable PJs, we settled in for a relaxing time while Pee skillfully applied some skincare to our faces.

"So, what's up with you and hotshot?" Emma asked.

"I bet they're still living their honeymoon phase," she added.

I smiled at that. To be honest, Logan and I were still madly in love, as if it were yesterday, but for the past few days, things had been on the edge, especially with the fact that he refused to tell me what's on his mind.

"Logan's doing fine, Emma, if that's what you're asking," I said with a smile. Despite Emma's support, she held a less-than-favorable opinion of Logan. In her eyes, he appeared too proud and labeled him as a spoiled rich brat.

Needing to express my worries, I told them what's been happening the last week.

"I never knew Logan had that wild side in him," Emma teased.

"Emma," I said, looking all flustered.

"I mean, we barely hold hands at work. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate keeping personal stuff separate from work, but I'm still trying to figure out where that impromptu make-out session in the office came from," I confessed, a mix of embarrassment and amusement playing on my face.

"But you enjoyed It," Emma teased again as she waggled her brows to me. I picked up a pillow and threw it at her face while Pee rolled her eyes.

"Have you tried talking to him?" Pee asked.

"Believe me, more than twice, but he always finds a way of changing the conversation," I said, frustrated.

"You have to talk to him," Pee urged, her concern evident in her eyes.

"Yeah, Pee's right. Communication is important for a healthy relationship," Emma added, nodding in agreement. They were both right. I needed to address this with Logan before it escalated into something more significant.

Just then, my phone rang, bringing me back to reality. It was a call from Logan.

"Hey, babe," I greeted, but the background noise was so loud that I struggled to hear his response. The bustling sound hinted it was a club . While I held no objections to Logan enjoying time with his friends at a bar, the Logan I knew had always kept me in the loop about such plans. We often went clubbing together, and even when he ventured out with his buddies, he made a point to inform me. Discovering that he was at the club without prior notice stirred an unexpected hurt within me.

"Babe," he stuttered, and then the next words confirmed my suspicions. "Hey, everyone!.....I'm talking to my girlfffriend!"

"Oh no, he's drunk," I thought.

As I held the phone to my ear, Logan's voice struggled to cut through the deafening background music.

"Where are you?" I raised my voice, hoping he could hear me. His response was a bewildered "What?"

"I said, where are you?" I repeated, my frustration mounting. There was a brief pause, as if Logan was fumbling to find the name of the bar. Finally, he replied, "Crimsonn Bar."

“Don’t go anywhere am coming to get you”

There was no response. I ended the call, troubled by the fact that he was getting this drunk without informing me.

"Everything okay?" Pee asked.

A heavy sigh escaped me as I shook my head. "No, Logan's drunk. I've got to go get him."

Emma's sarcastic scoff pierced the atmosphere. "If I ain't surprised," she remarked, her tone laced with a hint of cynicism. The weight of worry for Logan prevented me from offering a retort to Emma's comment, as my thoughts were consumed by the need to reach Logan before the situation escalated further.

I hastily threw on my jacket over my pajamas, not caring how I looked right now. With a sense of urgency, I ventured out to get him.

The city's red traffic lights cast an eerie glow as I navigated the streets, my apprehension deepening. Logan's excessive drinking signaled that something was wrong, a fact not lost on me. Memories resurfaced of a time when Logan's battle with alcohol had strained our relationship. I sighed, resting my head on the driver's seat, attempting to release the frustration that gnawed at me.

"He promised," I whispered to myself, frustration coursing through my veins. He had sworn not to indulge in excessive drinking, a commitment not only for my sake but for his well-being. Why couldn't he confide in me about his struggles? We could face them together. The honks of passing cars brought me back to the present, urging me forward on my search to find Logan.

Entering the bar, my eyes scanned the room until I found Logan. Relief washed over me as I saw he wasn't hurt. He tended to have a volatile temper when drunk.

When our eyes met, he greeted me with the widest smile, as if he were very excited to see me. Offering my hand, I steadied his movements as we made our way to the car.

"Let's get out of here," I said, determined to address the issues that were clearly affecting us.

Arriving at Logan's apartment, it was evident he was too dizzy to stand. Leaning against the wall, he fumbled for his keys. Unlocking the door with the key Logan handed me, I swung it open to reveal his apartment silent, cloaked in darkness. I recalled Bas, had gone to stay with his Logan parents for the week, leaving the residence eerily still. The subtle hush hung in the air, emphasizing the solitude.

Taking Logan by the arm, I guided him into his room gently laying him on his bed .

"Hey, you need to clean up before going to bed," I said, but all he managed was a hum. Removing his shoes and jacket, I tried to ease his discomfort. I was still mad at him but he wasn’t in the right state of mind to talk too. I'll just have to wait till he feels better

As I rose to depart, his powerful hands seized mine, abruptly pulling me onto his bed. Holding me with an unexpected strength, he murmured faintly, "Don't go."

“Logan I ha....” Suddenly he crashed his lips on mine. It wasn't the tender, slow embrace I was familiar to; instead, it was demanding, fueled by an insatiable need. He kissed me as if his entire existence hung in the balance. “Logan st.." he wasn't letting me go. My attempts to voice my objections were futile; he tightened his grip, rolling on top of me, rendering me immobile and trapped.

In that moment, he resembled a stranger, a menacing figure prepared to pounce on his prey. As his hands ventured beneath my clothing, lifting my nightgown, panic set in. "No... no, no!" I mustered what little strength remained to push him away. "I said stop!"

His expression shifted from urgency to remorse, and his apology hung heavily in the air. "Ave, I'm sorry... I... don't know what came over me," he stammered apologetically.

Ignoring his apologies, I got up, grabbed my coat, and walked out of the room, not wanting him to see the tears welling up in my eyes.

In the dimly lit room, Logan struggled to keep pace, his unsteady steps betraying the effects of his intoxicated state. "Ave... Ave, please," he pleaded, the desperation evident in his voice as he trailed after me.

My heart pounded in my chest, the weight of our turbulent exchange pressing down on me. "No, stay away from me!" I erupted, the frustration and anger within me bubbling over. Tears streamed down my face, a testament to the emotional turmoil coursing through my veins. I couldn't bear the weight of his actions any longer.

"I'm so fed up with this. First, you act like everything's fine when it's painfully obvious that you're hurting, and then you get so wasted after promising me you wouldn't!" My voice echoed in the room, each word a sharp jab at the mounting tension.

The flickering light seemed to dance with the shadows, mirroring the tumultuous emotions raging within. Tears continued to cascade down my cheeks, and a profound sense of self-loathing festered within. I despised the vulnerability he prompted in me, the way he made me question my worth.

He looked at me, his expression etched with sadness, as if my accusations were unfounded, mere fabrications of a tormented mind. "What am I to you, Logan?" I demanded, my voice trembling with both anger and hurt. "Am I just some s*x doll you use to blow off some steam?"

His response was swift, a feeble attempt to deny my words. "Avery, don't say that."

"Why shouldn't I?" I retorted bitterly. "Because it sure feels that way." The weight of his silence hung heavily between us, the unsaid words further intensifying the chasm that had opened up.

"I need to get out of here," I declared, my hand clutching my keys as I moved away. The room, once a haven, now felt stifling, infused with the echoes of our argument . A conflicted part of me yearned to stay, to mend what was broken, but the pain was too raw, too overwhelming to face him any longer.