Gabriel and Gyan were college sweethearts, and they thought they had found the love of their lives. Then Gabriel got an opportunity in Australia, and he left behind a heartbroken Gyan.
It's been more than five years, and Gabriel finds hims...
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The night we met up, Steven and I had sex.
At least, he said we did. I couldn't remember a thing. All I knew was that we were drinking. I felt like shit. And the next morning, I woke up naked in Steven's bed.
How could I do this to Gyan?
I was in such disbelief that I didn't even know what to tell him. What could I tell him? I lied, and then betrayed him.
Why would I hookup with Steven? I wasn't even attracted to him. Then again, he did say you didn't have to be attracted to someone to hookup with them. It was the alcohol. It had to be. It lowered my inhibition and allowed this to happen. When I left Gyan five years ago, I thought that was the worst mistake of my life. I was wrong. This was.
In the morning, before Gyan left for Appeto, I sat on the island. The morning after our meet up, I was hungover and still in shock at what I had done. It hadn't set in yet. Now, I could feel it. The guilt. The shame. The disgust. I couldn't even look Gyan in the eye anymore. Lately, Gyan and I hadn't been talking much, mostly because of me. Things were also a little tense. It was as if he knew something that I didn't.
I definitely knew something he didn't.
When Gyan came from the hallway, he smiled. I returned a weak one.
"H-heading..." I cleared my throat. "Heading to work?"
He nodded. "Unfortunately." He gave me a peck on the lips before watching me. "You good?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" I ignored his stare. "Are you good?"
He examined me some more. "Perfect."
"Great." I flashed another smile. "Have fun at work."
He turned to walk away, sneaking another peek at me before walking out. I released a huge breath, not realizing I was holding it.
Shit.
I wanted to cry.
This couldn't be happening. If I could go back in time, I never would have met up with Steven. No friend was worth losing Gyan.
At the same time, if I lost him, there was no one to blame but me.
My phone rang, frightening me, and I held onto my chest.
My father.
"Dad," I said in a weak voice.
"You okay, mijo?" he asked.
"I'm fine." I changed my tone. "How are you?"
"I called to see how you were," he said. "But I did want to tell you that I'm thinking of putting my dealing days behind me."
