Suspicions

"Bye..." he takes my dull send off and walks to his car in the garage. He didn't even kiss me, it wasn't like I was begging for a kiss all the time. It happens naturally, like a few hours of parting from each other kind of good-bye.

I gulp the stingy thoughts down my throat and sigh as the black car leaves. Getting back to my own office, I was asking the gods for some powers so I would be able to concentrate.

For the success of yesterday's video, I don't even have to work for an entire month. We're making money like water since yesterday.

Well... since I'm not busy for today, might as well spy on my own boyfriend. At least my mind will be at ease.

Deciding to implement my useless, impulsive thought, I begin to dress up after a nice warm shower. I should be there after his lunch time. Let me see which bitch is climbing on his lap other than me.

****

I've purchased a few souvenirs for my man, on the occasion that he won't cheat on me. I hope I'm not buying donuts for a cheat~

"Good morning madam."

Bowing respectfully at the front desk, I take the lift to reach the top most floor.

Reaching the area, I slowly wander near the cabin and stand by the wood, not the translucent thing.

"Babe, I'm here—" I gasp loudly and drop the sweets to the floor.

On top of him was Elizabeth... in a really compromising position on top of that.

Tears started roaming in my eyes as he realized how deep in a shit he was.

Oh shit... this can't be happening!

Was those years of happiness for nothing? I should've known. I'm not a Skiez. Maybe betrayal runs through their blood like DNA.

"I FUCKING HATE YOU!" blinded by the tears, I don't notice him trying to rip off Elizabeth from his body. How dare they!? How dare she!?

Stomping away, I press the elevator and open it to make it take a stop at the third floor, from there it goes all the way down. I could stall him that way, he will think I got down in the third floor but I took the next lift.

I shouldn't have worn heels.

I can't run efficiently in these.

Somehow, I manage to get to the parking while sobbing worse than a newborn baby. My heart feels so heavy and betrayed.

Why? Why must I be always associated with cheating and abusing bastards every time!?

"Ravine!" My name rumbles through his chest like a curse. Why is he yelling at me!?

Flinching at the monstrous tone he uses, my hands begin to fumble with the keys that are trying to figure out how to on this bike in a miraculous jiffy of time.

I was terrified of what he can be. I don't want to be brought down and kept as a pet.

Shit! What am I thinking!?

I can't help but blame my past for thinking about men that way. All they want is status, money and pleasure. Aaron was no different either.

The bike almost races it's front wheel up with my shaky acceleration.

By the time he came running to stop me, I was racing away. "Stop her!" He yells at the guard who stood as security at the parking lot.

Without a care in this world, I race straight into him, compelling the poor third person to jump away from my deathly rage and the accelerating bike. The sound of his bike booms all through the area. It must sound like a chase at this point. It's New York anyway.

I hit top speed, maneuvering through the traffic of New York streets and getting myself clicked in a dozen of pictures for speed limit crossings.

The police even start to chase me, but I quickly lose them by a miracle around the alleys.

At last, I was out of the city and heading to Manhattan.

I must find a petrol bunk and a motel, or something at all to spend at least a week away from him.

When I find a petrol bunk, I immediately use the washroom and remove all tracker related apps from my phone. The biggest task was to remove the implant behind my ear lobe.

It's going to sting like a bitch.

"Argh!" I rip it off successfully, but boy did it hurt. I jump in the bathroom in excruciating pain. The tracker that was implanted in me was grain sized, but I flush it and watch it leave while blinking so little against the dirty toilet bowl.

"Goodbye, fucker. Try to find me now...in the gutter."

Kicking the door open, almost breaking it off its hinges, I quickly jog back to the convenience store.

"Give me alcohol and cotton pads. Now!" I scream at the poor cashier.

"M-ma'am are you alright? Your ear's bleeding. Should I call the—"

"Just give me what I want, dammit! Ow—" I shake my head to relieve the little tingling but sensitive pain.

I go back to the bike and press my blood out on the cotton pad. The next one was dipped in alcohol as I dab it on my ear lobe. I cry silently, almost biting into my own lip to deal with the pain.

Somehow, I got over it after a few minutes and began to ride again with a full tank.

At golden hour, I find a motel to the right side of the road. Taking the turn, I park the bike there as I give it the harshest of kicks.

"Fuck!" I scream when my own leg was hurt by the huge metallic monster we call a 'bike'. Spitting on it, I check myself into the hotel.

Almost at night, I close all curtains and take my phone to type a few things on it.

Executing a plan, to say precisely.

I have to bring back all my valuables from his mansion without confronting him. As I was trying to break my head, thinking of an execution for a million times, I hear a knock and a very familiar 'feminine' voice saying, "Room service~"

Does this cheap motel even have room service?