Chapter 6 – Two Worlds, One Lie
The lie came out of my mouth so easily it scared me.
“Staying over at Amanda’s tonight. Just Netflix and nonsense.”
He replied within seconds.
“Haha okay. Enjoy, baby. Text me when you wake.”
I looked at the message. Then turned off my phone.
The club was calling louder than my conscience.
Zouk again.
Same floor. Same lights.
Same Isaac.
He didn’t ask questions when I walked in. Just raised a brow and handed me a drink like he’d been expecting me.
We danced.
Barely.
Mostly just touched.
My body knew him now. My rhythm matched his. I wasn’t even pretending to feel guilty anymore.
By 1AM, we were outside waiting for a Grab to a hotel near Clarke Quay.
That’s when it happened.
A guy walked past us.
I recognized him immediately.
Jason.
From sec school. One of those “always around” guys — not best friends, but enough to know who I dated, who I loved.
We made eye contact.
Just for a second.
His eyes flicked from me to Isaac.
Down to how close we were standing.
Then back to me.
No wave.
No smile.
Just recognition.
And disappointment.
Then he walked off into the crowd.
The next morning, I woke up in Isaac’s hotel room.
Still naked.
Still sore.
Still not sorry.
I checked my phone.
One text.
Him:
“Jason said he saw you last night. At Zouk. With someone. Thought you were at Amanda’s?”
Just that.
No “hey.”
No accusations.
Just the kind of message you don’t recover from.
I stared at it.
Re-read it five times.
My stomach twisted, but not from guilt.
From knowing I was out of excuses.
I met him later that evening, near his block.
He didn’t yell.
Didn’t cry.
He just stood there, arms crossed, face unreadable.
“I just want the truth,” he said.
I gave it to him.
“I’ve been seeing someone. Not like a relationship. Just… I needed something else.”
“Since when?”
I paused. “A while now.”
His jaw clenched. But he didn’t raise his voice.
“I had a feeling. But hearing it…”
He trailed off, looked at the ground.
Then back at me.
“I loved you, you know.”
“I know.”
“And you still let me hold you. Still lied. Still acted like we were okay.”
I looked down. “Because part of me wanted to believe we were.”
He nodded slowly.
Then: “We're done.”
I didn’t try to stop him.
Didn’t cry or beg.
It wasn’t some explosive heartbreak.
It was quiet. Still. Final.
He walked away.
And I let him.
Because deep down, I knew I’d been gone long before he noticed.
To be continued.