“Sophiee, you know I lurve you a million times over babes.” Leila slurs over the top of me, alcohol breath almost flooring me with its sheer toxicity, captured in her crazily strong embrace as we both sway. I’m a little worse for wear too, having drunk one too many champagne cocktails. The party is wearing down, but Leila is beyond wrecked and slobbering a gush of emotion all over me as I try to say my goodbyes to her.

“Baby, come on, Sophs is being suffocated by the fumes coming off you.” Daniel is trying to extract his wife’s arms from me and guide her towards the door, “trying” being the word, as he fights with octopus limbs in a bid to coax her away. A lot of guests have departed already, and Leila is being taken home to pass out or get up to whatever they get up to when drunk and childless in an empty house for the night. I do not even want to know what my sister and her husband are into if I am being honest, the thought terrifies me.

Daniel moves in a little closer, pulling her into his embrace and brings her face gently to his.

“Come on, beautiful, we have some drunken sex to be getting on with, to celebrate another year of marriage without killing each other.” He smiles down at her before planting a kiss on her smudged red lipstick. Not caring if he is now sporting a matching shade and gazing at her as though she is still the most beautiful girl in the world. Despite all me seeing is a makeup smudged hot mess, who can barely see straight.

“I know! God, I love you …” She pauses to kiss him back a little harder, groping him openly in full view and I turn away rolling my eyes, used to the naughty behavior of my overly sexed sister and Daniel over the years. Yet it still is not something I want to witness when I am practically attached by clingy limbs. Leila breaks free with a giggle and another sway my way.

“I just need to make sure my baby sister is okay, you know, cos I love her more than life, and the world, and the earth, and the …” She breaks off as something catches her eye, swinging under Daniel’s arm, she grabs a passing dark suit and hauls them towards us backwards.

“Arree!” She chants and startles him half to death with her ninja-style maneuver. Arrick stumbles a little with the sudden backwards force, righted by Daniel with a quick reaction and turns to face us all completely confused by the sudden assault. It isn’t hard to tell he is probably as drunk as Leila, unusual for him, well, at least it was three months ago, and the swaying he has going on matches the completely out of whack look in his eyes as he clears his throat. His eyes immediately come to me and scan me in one obvious swoop before looking back at my sister. I try to ignore the goosebumps or internal fluffy sensation it triggers and keep my eyes locked on Leila.

“What, Leeloo?” He sways in, bopping her on the head adoringly and almost bangs noses with her, pretty much falling into Daniel who shakes his head in my direction, as if to say “drunks”. He pushes them apart and keeps hold of Arrick’s arm too, to keep him steady on unstable legs.

“Take Sophie home and look after her. She needs a real man to take care of her, not that gay guy she hangs about with, making moon eyes at my husband.” Leila is slurring so much worse now, barely coherent, but Arrick frowns, leaning in with a severe look of “what?” on his face. My face gets hot and I try not to react, hoping he assumes my sister is crazily under the influence.

“What gay guy?” He’s slurring too and genuinely confused. Daniel starts pulling Leila in the direction of the door once more, in a bid to control her wandering body and throws me a deep frown.

“Christian! He’s lovely and all, but Sophie needs a real boyfriend, Arrick. Why don’t you love my sister? She’s awesome and beautiful, and she adores you. You would make such cute babies and look; we would be like a real brother and sister.” Leila grabs his face clumsily and plants a kiss on his nose, in a mortifyingly cute, yet kind of gruesome way. Daniel has obviously had enough, and a wary glance my way which reminds me that he is Jake’s best mate, for like the past twenty-odd years, and probably aware that Arry has no clue that I am not dating Christian. I suddenly realize what Leila has said in letting the cat out of the bag and the tell-tale blush hit my cheeks as it dawns on me that he might get pissed about this little facade. I was never good at maintaining this kind of deviousness and kind of care that he just caught me out, even if I shouldn’t.

Shit!

“Come on you.” Lifting her and scooping her legs, Daniel is drunk too, but as a seasoned ex-party animal he is handling it so much better than she is, and I am grateful that he takes care of my fireball sibling; even though she claims she doesn’t need him to. Despite a rough start, they ended up being another fairy-tale couple who truly make each other happy, even if it is in weird ways. I am so glad of him at this moment.

“Leila, I’m staying here. I don’t need anyone to look after me and I don’t need a boyfriend. I’m fine.” My face is burning, aware of the way Arrick is staring at me as if I have two horns, and his gaze has not left my face once since she said it. I literally cannot look at him as heat courses through me and my heart plays the rhumba, knowing fine well he will probably be wondering why I even carried on with this charade at all. I feel strangely guilty, ashamed, and yet also a lot of mad at him that he will even judge me for this. I hate that I sort of lied, but he did so much worse to me.

her shoe as it slides off. Staying close to catch discarding items, like her bag, bracelet,

let me go without a shower of love and garbled sentiments. Daniel expertly disentangling limbs, so I can get

be reacting. He does not say one word, just hauls me, as though he has a right, into the darkness so that I start tripping with shoes on soft ground. He tugs me towards the side of the garden, out of sight, towards the Carrero house. For a very drunk male, he moves with too much speed and I am literally hauled with him without any

it free. The cool air hitting me, suddenly makes me realize how much more drunk I am than I thought. My legs instantly turning to Jell-O and head getting fuzzier by the second. I try to tug my hand out of

Damn heels!

with him in stupidly high shoes not meant for this terrain, as he pulls me diagonally across the street from the corner of my front garden, towards the house he grew up in. I try to look back and see if either of my friends is milling around near the entrance, but

home, concealed by bushes and much quieter; away from the eyes of anyone leaving the party.

me. Arrick pulls me up, straightening me against him and automatically scoops down to slide my shoes off in a swift action,

I regain my balance and glare hatefully at him. So many emotions hitting

angrily; annoyed that he has the nerve to even yell accusations at me, after everything. That he felt he had a right to drag me here for this, away from my family and friends so

the hell does he think

Fuck him!

forgotten what he did to

in a firm hold, his angry tone dissipating fast, rambling incoherently as he verbalizes his internal brain mess. His fingers cupping me along the side of my face and pulling me towards him, bridging the gap to my height as he

me off when he thinks he has a right to touch me in any way he likes. I shove his hands off me, pushing him to arm’s length so I can breathe and only let go when he is standing

furious at the way he’s making me feel. Hemmed in, heart racing and blood pumping fast. Just his touch alone is causing all sorts of an unwelcome internal meltdown, which is trying to slice through the

… if I’m too late?” Arrick is focusing on me, intense gazing into my eyes, but I only see an asshole who thinks he can turn everything around. From angry to whatever this is, sorry, pleading. I don’t want to give a shit about him anymore. His words don’t heal, they only slice deeper and I stare at him

don’t deserve anything from

hand away as he reaches out to me impulsively, shoving him away harder so he steps back again with the force. Arrick’s eyes stay on mine, an intense look of desperation on his face and he comes at

backwards and let him fuck with my head and my heart all over again. My insides close to splitting open and bursting all over the lawn, while my lungs feel like they’re being sat

chose someone else. You don’t get to come back and try again. You don’t get back in.” I grab for my shoes, scooping to bend without caring if my dress flashes my ass to the bushes, anger bubbling in full fury, heart and soul ripping apart while alcohol let’s all this stupid heartache loose to play like giddy

with effort as my heart erupts in my chest, and my lungs struggle

vacuously, the tears breaking loose and pouring down my face in final release, reminiscent of a monsoon, and hating that he has pushed me to this; that I have shown him how deeply he wounded me. That inner part of me trying so hard to fight back, to lift that wall of ice-cold indifference, but damn alcohol has made it near impossible and his presence

trying to touch me, pleadingly, but keeps his distance as I begin pacing around frantically. Anger spiking inside, fear and heartache pushing and shoving each other to dominate my heart. Like I am going to self-implode with the battle of emotions, thoughts and feelings swirling like a cyclone. I feel like

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