For Her Sake

AMELIA

"I hate you so much," I said with teary eyes, voice shaking as I stared at the man I was supposed to marry.

"I hate you even more, Amelia. Why don't you just fuck off?" Ethan shot back, his face twisted in disgust.

We were standing in the middle of what should've been a quiet dinner, a time to finalize wedding arrangements. But Ethan had other plans, like parading his mistress around the room as if I didn't exist.

"Do you really have to be like this? We're getting married in a week. Did you have to bring her and do this here?" I asked, trying to hold back my tears.

He let out a humorless and cold laugh. "I can bring whoever the fuck I want. And don't act like you care. You're just here for my father's money. What a fake bitch."

His words hit hard, and yet it was familiar. This wasn't the first time he'd do something just to humiliate me. He turned to his mistress and kissed her, slowly and intentionally, like he was making a point.

Then, looking back at me with dark eyes, he added, "I don't care what you do with yourself, woman. I'm only marrying you because that's what my father wants."

I felt something snap inside me.

"Fuck you, Ethan," I said and stormed out.

I grabbed my keys, my vision blurred with tears. My hands trembled as I started the engine and drove off. I didn't care where I was going. I just needed to be anywhere but there.

The city lights blurred into the night as I sped through the streets. I ended up at a secluded little spot I often retreated to when everything got too loud, a quiet car park surrounded by trees and soft garden lights. It was peaceful, and far from the chaos of my life.

I popped open a bottle I kept stashed in my glove compartment and sat on the trunk of my car. The liquor burned on the way down, but at least it drowned the noise in my head.

"I should get fucked tonight," I muttered with a dry, bitter laugh. My mind was spinning. I didn't care. Anything was better than feeling like nothing.

And then, like some twisted fate to my desperation, I saw him.

A man stood near the edge of the parking lot, lighting a cigarette. He looked like he belonged on a runway, tall, muscular, dressed in black with messy hair and sharp features. There was something about him, and I didn't mind finding out.

The thought came again. A one night something, might just lift my mood by a thousand.

I undid a couple of buttons on my shirt, just enough to show some cleavage. Then I walked over.

"Hey," I said. "I'm horny. Wanna fuck?"

He looked me over, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Who are you?"

"Does it matter? Just fuck me and get it over with."

Without another word,