Dangerous Ride: Love after Betrayal

Knock. Knock. The sound slammed against my door, loud and aggressive. Everything about it felt wrong at 11:54 p.m. I shot up in bed, heart pounding. I wasn’t expecting anyone, not at this time, and Nicole, my best friend and only housemate, was out of town. She wouldn’t be back until the weekend. So who the hell could be knocking at this time? Knock. Knock. Knock. The door rattled harder this time. I grabbed the nearest thing I could find, a bat in case it was someone that would need it, and wrapped my robe tighter around me before creeping toward the door. Slowly, I peered through the peephole. And cursed. “Dylan?” I muttered under my breath, relief washing over me. He was swaying on his feet, barely standing, his head drooping forward like he might pass out any second. Clearly drunk. I unlocked the door immediately. “What are you doing here?” I snapped. “You said you were going to your friend’s birthday dinner. Why are you here this late and alone?” He didn’t answer. He just stumbled forward, falling straight into me. “I missed you,” he mumbled against my shoulder. I stiffened. “You saw me this morning,” I said, struggling to hold his weight. “And if you’re drunk, don’t you know your way to your own house?” No response. Of course not. He was already half gone. I dragged him inside and dumped him onto the sofa, stepping back with a frustrated sigh. “Unbelievable, missing me at this hour,” I murmured, slightly blushing. My fingers flew to my phone. If his friends let him get this drunk and still sent him off alone, someone needed to explain that to me. I tapped Liam’s contact, the birthday host, and pressed call. It rang. Once. Twice. Then it connected. “Liam?” I said angrily. “What the hell happened?” Voices cut me off. Laughter, music, and chatter, and that was when I figured it out. He hadn’t purposely answered. The call must have connected in his pocket, or he drunkenly picked it up. I frowned, about to hang up, when someone said something that pulled my attention immediately. “Do you think Dylan will actually win the bet?” My brows pulled together and curiosity set in. “Wait… is my boyfriend gambling now?” I muttered, confused, as I set my ears closer to the phone so I could hear them well. Another voice laughed. “Three years, man. Three years. We made that dare as a joke and he is still keeping it going. I didn’t believe he’d last that long.” I froze. My thumb hovered over the end call button. Three years? “What bet?” On who? About what? I said to myself as I tried to make my brain understand what was going on. The voice on the other end went on. “Guy, no doubt in this,” another voice scoffed. “Dylan is really winning this time. Myra is already in love with him. He won the moment she fell for it.” My grip tightened around the phone. My body started shaking. My head started spinning. And I started forcing myself to understand what was going on. “I can’t wait to see Myra’s face when we finally let her know she is just a game,” a female familiar voice added, and I instantly recognized that voice as someone I truly know. “Isn’t that Nicole?” I muttered to myself, my hands shivering. “Isn’t she out of town for work and supposed to be back until the weekend?” I said to myself, my head refusing to understand what was going on. “Why is she even with Dylan’s friends in the first place? Didn’t she always say she didn’t like anything about them? And about the bet, why does it sound like the bet is about me? And my childhood friend of thirteen years knew about it? Am I sleeping?” I muttered, my hand already flailing, my legs becoming weak and my eyes becoming blurry with tears. So Jake and his friends made a truth or dare game, and he dated me for three years because he was dared to? My hand began to shake. I started sweating under the cold AC. I looked at Jake on the bed like I should slap him awake from that sleep and tell him to explain what I was hearing. But just as I was about to do that, the voices on the other end continued talking, and I forced myself to calm down to listen. Maybe there was still more coming. “Do you guys think Jake is in love with that girl? Because he has been talking about her all night.” Then Nicole burst in almost angrily. “He won’t dare. Last night I was with him all night, and he couldn’t stop talking about our future together and how he planned on taking me home to his parents this month ending.” “Aww, latest fiancée in town,” others echoed, laughing. I could hear Nicole blushing beneath. “Am I being crazy?” I muttered under my breath. Not only did my best friend know, she was part of it. Part of me being played like some stupid game. And worse, she was dating my boyfriend. Like we were both involved with the same man. A bitter laugh almost escaped me. Was I really that worthless to her? Did thirteen years of friendship mean nothing? This was the same girl I changed my entire future for. I chose accounting because she wanted it, just so we could stay in the same class. I gave up gymnastics for her. And now… Were all those years together just a game too? And Dylan. My gaze shifted to where he lay on the sofa, fast asleep, completely unaware. This was the man I had loved for three years. The one who made me believe I mattered. The one who held me, kissed me, promised me things. And it was all a lie. Just a stupid truth or dare. A game. He wasted three years of my life for a game. Played with my feelings like I meant nothing. And now he was lying there, peaceful, like he hadn’t just destroyed me. Tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them. Three years for what? A dare? Thirteen years for what? Betrayal? A sick feeling twisted in my stomach as the voices on the phone continued. I pressed it closer to my ear, each word cutting deeper than the last. “Truth or dare for the win. Dylan really winning two p***y at a time,” someone laughed, and the others joined in. I couldn’t breathe. The room spun. My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the floor, staring at him, at the man who had just shattered everything I believed in. Still sleeping. Still unaware. Still at peace. The voices kept going, saying things about me about my body, my private life, like I was nothing more than a joke. I couldn’t take it anymore. I ended the call with trembling fingers. Bile rose in my throat. The room reeked of whiskey, sweat, and betrayal. My hand shook so badly that my phone slipped from my grip and hit the floor. I didn’t move. I just sat there, numb, listening to him snore like an innocent man. Three years of love. Thirteen years of friendship and trust I would have given anything for. And in the end… I was just a dare.