Chapter 3
1097 Words
When Ruin Felt Like Rescue
The waiter nodded.
“Yes Sir... I’ll take care of her right away. Poor lady’s been through something rough.”
“All I did was love him,” Olivia said, loud. “And what did I get?” Her voice cracked like glass. “A ring full of lies. Ha... ha... love’s a damn joke.”
She laughed, but it wasn’t laughter. It was hollow. The kind that slips out when everything inside breaks. The waiter didn’t say anything. He just guided her to the room, gently.
After he locked up and left, silence settled over the place. Except for the music downstairs, still humming. Luther stayed behind. He didn’t trust people to lock up properly, even if he paid them to.
He walked the hallway slowly, checking corners, lights, doors. Usual stuff. Nothing special. He heard sounds of people making out while he passed by.
He reached the VIP suite where the waiter had taken Olivia. The door stood slightly open. Enough for light to creep through.
He looked inside.
Olivia was on the floor. Not on the bed. Her arms wrapped around her knees, rocking. Laughing and mumbling. Crying between words. Her mascara was ruined. Her voice was shaky.
“I should’ve... I don’t know... maybe I should’ve just let him have me. Maybe then he wouldn’t have needed her. Maybe I wouldn’t feel like... this.”
Luther didn’t move at first. He could’ve walked away. Would’ve, normally. Girls like her came and went. Sad stories weren’t his business.
But something stopped him.
He stepped in. Closing the door behind him quietly.
“Young lady,” he said, calm but tired. “You need to rest. You’ve had more than enough tonight.”
“Rest?” she turned her head. Her hair stuck to her cheeks. “What’s the point? So I can wake up and remember all of this again? I should have let him have me, so he wouldn't go for my sister.”
“‘No,” Luther said firmly. “You’re beautiful. And none of this is your fault. Whatever happened is not on you, it's on him.”
She didn’t say anything. Just cried harder. Louder. Her shoulders shook like she was trying to disappear.
Luther sat beside her to hug her to be calm, but then he noticed that she was soaked and shivering. Without a word, he lifted her gently and carried her into the bathroom.
She couldn't stand, so he helped her into the warm water himself, trying not to notice how fragile she felt in his hands. When it was done, he wrapped her in a towel, then in a robe, and laid her on the bed ready to leave.
Olivia sat up slowly, pulling her robe tighter around her. Though her cheeks were still flushed, her eyes were clear. They held pain but they were steady.
Luther sat silently at the edge of the bed, avoiding her gaze.
“You said I’m beautiful,” she whispered.
He froze.
“Then make me feel like it,” she said, even softer. “Please.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. Took a deep breath.
“Olivia,” he said finally, “this isn’t what you need right now. You’re hurting. You’ve had too much.”
“Stop,” she said, stronger now. “Stop treating me like I don’t know what I want.”
He looked at her. She looked sober.
“I’m not drunk. I know exactly what I’m saying.” Her voice cracked again, but she pushed through. “I just want to stop hurting. Just for tonight. Please.”
She let the robe slide off her shoulders. Her chest rose and fell, her eyes never left his.
“I want to forget him. I want this. I want you.”
Luther turned his head. Ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“I do,” she said. “I really do. I need something... someone... that doesn’t hurt. And that’s you.”
She leaned in and kissed him. Soft. Hesitant. He didn’t move at first.
Then... slowly, he kissed her back.
His arms wrapped around her. Not with hunger. With something else. Like maybe he didn’t want to see her break again.
He stood. Slipped his arms under her knees and back.
She held onto his shirt. Didn’t resist.
He placed her in the middle of the bed. Like she might fall apart if he moved wrong.
He hesitated. Then climbed in beside her.
Their connection wasn’t wild. It wasn’t even about want.
It was slow. Careful. Present.
For Olivia, she didn't know what this was, but it wasn't betrayal and that was enough.
Afterward, she lay beside him with her head resting against his chest. He held her silently, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, unreadable. But Olivia didn’t notice, she just let sleep take her.
Luther didn’t move
He couldn’t.
Because now... he couldn’t pretend this didn’t happen.
***
The morning had come with too much silence.
Matilda stood outside the hallway in front of Damian’s room. Her hand hovered in the air for a moment before she knocked.
“Damian... please open the door. Please.”
No answer.
She tried the knob. It turned.
The door opened.
She stepped inside and froze.
Damian was passed out on the bed. One arm over his eyes. A bottle on the other hand. The room was chaotic. Broken glass, smashed lamps all over the place. His knuckles were bleeding.
“Oh God,” she gasped. She pulled out her phone and called the doctor.
Thirty minutes later, help came. The doctor treated his wounds. He said he’d be fine that it wasn't anything serious and then he left quietly.
Matilda sat beside him, her eyes filled with guilt.
“I’m sorry, Damian,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean for it to go like this. I didn’t... I didn’t want to hurt you.”
He groaned as he tried to sit up, but failed.
“The doctor... gone?” he mumbled.
“Yes.”
He stared up at the ceiling.
“How long was I out?”
“Probably since yesterday night” Matilda replied immediately. Rubbing his other hand she said again.
“Damian, I came up with a plan last night and it'll help you win the bet with your friends.”
Damian coughed.
“Here, have a glass of water. You’ll need your strength,” she whispered, her voice almost cold. “For what’s coming.”
- Writer
