Golden Opportunity

"We're here ma'am", the taxi driver said. Even though I'm looking out the window I can't seem to see anything. There is a feeling of anticipation inside of me. It's been like this since this morning. I couldn't even focus on my tasks at work, I would doze off out of nowhere trying to point out what I'm feeling. I take 20£ from my purse and hand it to him with a fake smile. Even smiling seems to be a huge effort for me today. "Thank you." I open the door and step out on the street. The taxi is driving away, but I can't bring myself to move. I stay in front of the doors and look up the imposing building to the last floor. The penthouse. From down here I can see that the lights are on. Brad is home then, I think to myself. He said in the morning that if I come home before him, 'not to wait for him because he's going to be at work till late'. Something he'd taken on doing ever since I've moved in. That's when that feeling started so, like any woman out there, I lied. I told him that I'm going to be late too because we're preparing for the upcoming anniversary of the company those days and 'I may arrive really late'. It seems I'm not the only one that lied. I take a breath and begin to walk into the building, the receptionist and the guards welcoming me. I say only a 'hi' not bothering anymore to force a smile on my face. I get into the elevator and press for the 15th floor. Once the metallic doors are closed I slump against the wall, my eyes on the glowing numbers as they change. My heartbeat increases with every change of number and that feeling of anticipation only increases and puts a lump in my throat. Maybe I'm overthinking. Yes, there's been signs, but what if he's innocent? I'm only going to have to lie to him again. The ding and the doors sliding open bring me back from my thoughts. Now that I think of it, I should've taken the stairs, he could have heard the arrival of the elevator. But would he with such loud a song? Sure enough, Justin Bieber's Confident resonates out of the apartment muffled by the door. And if the content of the music is not odd enough, the fact that he never plays loud music when he's home, is a clear give away. He always says that it could disturb the neighbors and he doesn't want to be a bad one. I shake my head and take out the keys and slowly them in the lock. Then very slowly I open the door and the unmistakable sound of voices greets me. There is one voice that I'm familiar with - my fiancée's -, but there is this female voice I've never heard before. I close the door as quiet as possible and take my shoes off even more quietly and then I put my purse on the stand in the hall before I near the wall and take large steps toward the opening of the living room. I probably look like a creep right now as I prepare to spy on them, but can you blame me? There's a stranger in my house and my fiancée lied to me. Not to point out the music that just creeps me out. Who in they're right mind would listen to your fiancée's favourite song while you're with another? "You're sure it's okay?", asks that unknown voice, the flirtatious intonation in it not escaping me. "Yes, baby. She said she won't be here untill at least after midnight", my fiancée says. Baby. So I'm not paranoid. I'm not making it up. I've seen the right signs. I remember when he used to call me that. It was before we got engaged. Everything was pink and rainbows and I couldn't have been more happier to have such a great and loving partner. And then, two months ago, he proposed, saying that he loves me with everything he has and that he can't live without me, mentioning the ups and downs in our relationship and how we've overcome them... together. But a few days after that something changed. The first thing I noticed was him not calling me baby or any other endearment as he used to, other than my name. Ayla. The serious and almost hostile way he began to talk to me. I let it slide, thinking it's just the pressure from work and to top it off, the preparations for the wedding, they took a toll even on me. But then, the late nights at work, not coming to the bedroom in the night because he has 'so much to do', they made me have doubts and insecurities. Sometimes, when I felt like it, I would go to the door of his study and listen, hearing his soothing hushed voice as he talked to the phone. And then the unending massages and calls, even when we were at the dining table. The mood swings told me something was wrong. He would go from happy and tender to angry and shouting in a few minutes worse than a pregnant woman. He almost hit me a few times in his rage. But today I had to know. I had to make sure that I'm not making it all up. I had to put a name to all those changes lately. So, when he said the same thing he began to say in the last months, I took it as my chance. And here I am listening to the two lovers talk. "When are you going to break up?", the girl's flirtatious tone changed to one of irritation. It seems she wants me out of the picture. You're not the only one, girl. "It's been five months already and you didn't break up with her. You even go as far as to get engaged to her. You promised me!" "I know what I said and what I did, baby. But it's not that simple. She's important right now, Ruth." Ruth, finally a name to put on the growing list of 'people I hate'. "I know that, but it doesn't make it any easier. I'm tired of sneaking around. And I already told you that my father would be more than happy to merge his company with yours. You don't have to marry her for her father's company." So that's it. But they are mistaken, even if we did marry I would never take anything from my father. Not even for him. After what happened 15 years ago I will never forgive him. Brad has a little real estate company that's still at the beginning of business. In the last years he's been seeking and proposing partnerships from other well known companies. To get a partnership with my father is a challenge as he doesn't offer them unless you have a really good offer. But to merge your company with his is nearly impossible. Only if he knows you personally and how capable you are he would give you a shot. He wouldn't let just anyone place foot on his doorstep if it were after him. Sometimes, I used to think that he loved the company more than he loved me. He used to call it his baby when I was little. And after what happened I've come to the conclusion that he do loves it more than anything because, otherwise, he wouldn't have done what he did. And Brad here was hoping to merge his company with my father's through a marriage with me. He doesn't know that me and Mason White have been at odds for 15 years. Every time we would stumble upon one another and Brad was there, we would exchange a few words, but I swear that anyone in a close hearing range could hear the hostility in my voice. The fact that Brad did not, it only adds to how little he knows about me. How little attention he's actually paid to me. I peek around the wall in the living room and I see them on the couch. And not surprisingly, they are naked, with their backs facing me. The girl's brown hair is ruffled across her shoulders. They both look like they just finished a long round of f*****g. He reaches out and snakes his arms around her and places her on his lap, her front facing me now. Brown eyes look at him mischievously, two small hands with long red painted nails gripping his shoulders. "Let's not talk about it right now. I want to be inside you" , he changes the subject swiftly. With those words he rises from the couch with her legs around his waist, his member in full view as it pokes the inside of her thighs. He walks up the stairs to the bedrooms and I hear a door closing behind them. Is he going to f**k her on our bed? Well... yeah, silly!, my mind shouts at me. I stay rooted in place, my heart beating wildly as I'm leaning against the wall. I don't know what I'm feeling. Betrayed and heartbroken, I think. I felt like this only once, but that was years ago and from a completely different reason, although this situation is the same. Cheating. I loath cheating scumbags. To think that the man you see your future with is betraying you in such a way is terrific, but to see it with your own eyes is life changing. And I don't know if it's a good or a bad thing. I've prepared myself all day for the inevitable, for something like this to happen, but even after all the preparation I can't help but feel like my life is crumbling. The first moan is being heard throughout the entire apartment over the loud music and it's bringing back unwanted memories. I find myself making my way to the stairs, then climbing them until I'm in front of the bedroom door. My hand is touching the knob and the door is slowly opening, the moans and groans becoming more audible. I walk to the little dresser facing the bed, a golden mirror above it and lean against it, watching them. I don't know what I'm doing, why I'm doing it, but I just stay there and watch them. I want to run and never look back. I want to disappear and start a new life somewhere far away. My brain is screaming at me to move, to run, but my body has other plans. My legs don't move, my arms are limply fallen at my sides and my head is looking straight ahead. My eyes don't blink as I stare at them - the man I used to love so much that I let down my walls, only for him to use my fears against me and this stranger that dares to go behind my back and fool around with my ex-future husband - f*****g in his house, on my sheets, with my photo right above the bed. The two of them are on their knees on the bed facing my picture like praying to a god, his left hand keeping her down while the other holding her hips as he hammers inside of her forcefully, her moans and whimpers only intensifying by the movements. "That's it... oh God... more!", she screams and he groans in approval. His movements become more hard and rapid, the sounds of their wet skin slapping together like gunshots to my heart. And just like that, I'm eleven years again and the two on the bed are not Brad and the brunette, but my father and his mistress. *** FLASHBACK I get out of Mom's car eager to surprise my Dad with our arrival. The 'Mother and Daughter' camp ended a day earlier than expected and Mom and I got home immediately without telling Dad because we wanted to take him by surprise. As I take the steps to the front door a mischievous grin appears on my lips. I'm barely suppressing my excitement. I haven't seen Dad in two weeks and I really missed him. I could tell that Mom missed him too given the frantic way she grabs our luggages from the back seats. I open the front doors and without waiting for Mom I begin to walk into the house. A pair of heels is at the bottom of the stairs and there are men and women clothes scattered at the top of the staircase, but I don't give it much thought. I walk up knowing that my Dad is likely taking his afternoon nap at this time, but as I make my way to my parents bedroom there isn't silence as I expected, but I could hear moans and groans, sounds that immediately made me think of pain. Is my Daddy hurt? I think scared. And without a second thought I head for the door and open it, ready to help him with his wound. But my Dad is not howling in pain but in pleasure. He is leaning over a girl that I can't see the face of, only her blonde hair as it is splayed out on the pillows. Both of them are naked and I can hear the sickening wet sound of bodies meeting and their sounds of pleasure, the girl's whimpers muffled in my Mom's soft pillow. And whilst I'm little in heights standards, I'm old enough to know what they are doing. And I scream. I scream like I just saw something horrific, because I did. That's not the father I know. And definitely not the husband my Mother is so proud of. My scream breaks the spell. They're parting from one another scared and shocked. They thought no one was there to see them. Once they see me they are hurrying for something to cover themselves, their movements frantic. The girl is still on the bed with her legs bent to her chest and a pillow as a cover while my father has a sheet wrapped around his middle, and in other circumstances I would have laughed at how hilarious they look at that moment, but instead I cry. The tears I've been holding are finally free and sobs escape my lips. My father has somehow recovered from his shock and comes immediately at me trying to take me in his arms and calm me down, but I slap his dirty hands with my smaller ones while screaming and kicking at him. The commotion finally grabs my Mother's attention and she hurries in the room to see what is happening. As she takes in the scene in front of her I can see the colour in her face turning a sickening pale and she wavers a little on her feet looking ready to fall. She looks at her husband, betrayal written on her face. "S-sweetheart...", my father comes out of his stupor and lets go of me to go to his wife. But she won't have it, she won't listen to him. Instead she turns around and gets out of the room, down the stairs and out the house until she reaches her car and gets inside. My father is right behind her, but as he sees her start the car he turns and comes back inside when he realises that he is wearing only a bed sheet and can't go after her. As I see him coming inside the house I run to my room, not wanting to see him anymore. I close and lock the door behind me before throwing myself on the bed and begin crying uncontrollable. After a few minutes there are hesitant knocks on my door and my father's voice. "Ayla... sweety, please open the door. Talk to me...", his voice trails off and I can tell that he is trying to keep his emotions in check, but the shaking in his voice is unmistakable. He continues that way for at least thirty minutes, and then, as I don't respond, I hear his footsteps down the hall and then the loud noise of his bedroom door closing. I came home happy and ready to surprise him, but he is the one that got the chance to take me unprepared. END OF FLASHBACK *** The screams of pleasure as they reach the end bring me back in the present and out of nowhere there is clapping. And even I am surprised to find out that I am the one clapping. Unlike fifteen years ago, right now I'm calm, I'm already over the betrayal and the heartbreak. But the calmness inside me is like one I've never felt before. You know the saying 'The calm before the storm'? That's what I feel. Because I know I'll make them pay for this betrayal.