Chapter 49. Cheaters suck at being cheaters

Chapter 49: 49. Cheaters suck at being cheaters

"How can I forget? You were the one who came to me. You pushed me into a relationship. You are the one who said this world is full of assholes and that you intended to build a good life instead of fucking around like others."

Pressing my face into my hand did nothing for my lost thoughts; I wasn’t even capable of stopping myself.

"You wanted to build a real relationship, get married, and have kids..."

"So which is it? Which is it, bitch!? YOU ARE THE BIGGEST HYPOCRITE I HAVE EVER SEEN!"

Dripping in resentment from my own fury, I didn’t care if my screams were putting a strain on my throat. Remmy’s big eyes carried tears of remorse but couldn’t stop them from falling, just like she couldn’t undo the damage to our life.

"... Why? What is the reason? We had everything, and we were two smart individuals. There was no reason for you to cheat. Unless it’s about dick! That’s the truth, right?! But how? We were having healthy sex."

"You are just a lustful bitch, AREN’T YOU?"

The two men behind us realized they had messed with the wrong guy this time. And they were somewhat glad that I wasn’t holding them and screaming at them.

"M...Mark. Please, I’m begging, calm down. I’m sorry... I’m so, so, so sorry..."

Remmy broke into a child’s cry, knowing she had screwed things up, and showed signs of resignation.

"WE COULD HAVE GOTTEN MARRIED. Thank God I found out about you. My kids’ mother will not be a whore like you. And you know what? You have lost the privilege of having children. You think your kids will clap when they find out their mother is a cheater? Even a prostitute has the privilege to bear kids, but not a cheater like you!!!"

Crashing out, losing tangentiality, and looking like a patient of verbal catharsis wasn’t my goal, but the pleasure was something I couldn’t unsee.

I let go of her out of pure disgust. She dropped to the ground and screamed, then bit her own hand to suppress it. She carried so much that it left a salt puddle for the ants.

I was finally done with Remmy. I didn’t care about her or her plushies or any other drama. Now it was time for the two dudes in the back.

It didn’t matter if they were at fault or not. They were cheaters too, meaning they were guilty.

I was planning to hit the man beside the couch, and my feet were stepping up, but then Remmy caught my entire leg, hugging it like it was her lifeline.

"I’m... so sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what I was doing... Please don’t give up on me... You were... a good partner... I..."

Remmy was sobbing hard enough to leave my pants wet and distract me completely from the two men in the room.

"Are you insane!? After all this you want me back? Fuck off, you are a freak!"

Remmy trembled at every word I threw at her but didn’t let go of my leg. Even when I was pushing her and moving around, she didn’t let go.

In this mess, the man in front of the couch grabbed his clothes, tossed his friend the shirt, and got dressed.

"Where do you think you two are going!?! Get this bitch off of me. Seriously, I’m done with her. I don’t mind what you do with her. Maybe you should bring in more of your friends. I’m pretty sure she will ENJOY it!!"

"No, you are a maniac, dude. We are out of here."

They wasted no time leaving. As soon as the man in front of the couch put on his pants, they left. What can you expect from cheaters?

Cheaters suck at being cheaters. Pathetic.

"How can you say that... I’m a terrible person, I know... But even I won’t– ahh"

Even now Remmy had the energy and shame to talk? That’s what pissed me off even more. I forcefully pushed her to get her off of me.

"I’m sorry... I will do whatever you ask... just please."

"Die!"

"Mark!! Mark!!!"

I didn’t look back. Everything around me felt disgusting. I couldn’t believe I used to call this home. I wanted to flee somewhere clean.

The only problem was that there was no place on earth that wasn’t disgusting. Everywhere you go, you see cheaters. That’s all people do.

A heartbroken man sees only one thing: the alcohol he enjoys. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t drink; my mom and Remmy had made sure of that. That’s what sparked a will in me, and I made my way into a local club.

It was exactly like what they show in movies, but hella crowded and loud. Not to mention sickly drunk people. My introvert ass surprisingly wanted to dance on the floor, but I didn’t let it.

The bartender was pouring shots at the counter with calm, expressionless motions, keeping in mind that his drinks should give more emotion than he did. He was old, and one look at me told him I was going to be a good customer.

"Give me something a beginner would enjoy. But don’t go baby mode. I just had the worst day of my life."

I said this while sitting at the seat in front. The bartender, predicting my words, was already moving toward a bottle on the shelf behind him. I kept my head down while he prepared the drink. I did like the environment, but it was too loud for me.

"The Penicillin cocktail, sir."

A double rocks glass was in front of me. The drink itself was colored yellow with a fresh lemon on top, but the blue lights coming from the dance floor made it look slightly green.

This doesn’t look like a heavy drink to me; my fault for saying I’m a beginner. Anyway, I gobbled it down and quickly realized it was hard to drink.

The bartender didn’t disappoint. It was smoky, spicy, sweet, and sour. I didn’t get drunk right away like a normal person, so I ordered more.

"Another."

And after a few drinks, different drinks at that, I was stronger than your father in his prime, I would say. I was spending money like water. I was loving it; it was perfect. I was smiling for absolutely no reason.

"Ah, you look awfully drunk. Did your girlfriend dump you or something?"

A seductive voice reached my right ear. Turning my red, drunken eyes, I saw the second thing a man wants after a heartbreak: a rather curvy woman.

A woman wearing a halter-neck, deep V-neck, backless mini party dress was sitting next to me. I was too drunk to notice her face, but she was attractive: makeup done, sparkly earrings, the maximum cleavage you can get on a G cup.

"Yeah, you can say that. Ha ha."

I wasn’t sure why I laughed, but I did. The woman leaned in, slipping her hand onto my thigh.

"I know, it’s tough, right? Why don’t you forget about her and focus on the other fish around you~"

She made an effort to stretch out the word "fish." I found her to be incredibly close to me, close enough that one little moment could cause a make-out.

"I know what you are doing, lady. You’re a fish, I see. Want to get in the car?"

The lady giggled, holding my collar in heat, moving close to my ear and whispering.

"Yes, I’m the fish. You are mad at your partner, and I’m mad at mine. I’m sick of my boyfriend’s tiny dick. I want something strong. I want you to destroy me."

Suddenly, all effects of the alcohol faded, lingering but giving me space to process what this woman was saying.

"You want to cheat on your boyfriend?"

"Yes, daddy, I’m such a bad girl."

She confirmed the one thing that just happened to be my trauma, my biggest fear. I had had three relationships, and all three of them cheated on me.

First, I caught her kissing another classmate of mine.

Second, I caught her going on a date with a guy she claimed was her best friend.

And Remmy...

"Get the hell away from me, you cheap whore!!"

"What the hell!?"

I pushed the woman, and somehow I fell from my seat. Now insulted, she didn’t waste any time leaving. Sure, I caused a commotion, and people around me were judging me for it.

Suddenly I felt like I shouldn’t be in this place, but I wanted to drink more. So I did the only logical thing I could think of: I bought an entire box of drinks and left.

I was actually very proud of myself that day. I was drunk and had the resistance to say no? That’s me for sure.

But I wasn’t thinking positively that day; my thoughts became negative. I began to connect every little thing to cheaters: the friends and people I had been with, the stories I had read, the ideas behind people’s thoughts about cheating.

Cheating. Cheating and cheating. That’s all I was thinking.

Then suddenly I got a call from one of the mutual friends of mine and Remmy’s. I didn’t see who it was and picked it up.

"Mark! Thank God you picked up, dude. Where are you? I know what Remmy did to you, but please, can you come back and listen to what she has to say? She is trying to kill herself. And I’m–"

"I don’t care if that bitch DIES or lives!!"

I hung up the phone and threw it into the nearby gutter. I didn’t know where I was or where I was going, but I knew the place I didn’t want to go was that disgusting excuse for a home.

That is the full context before the first Chapter of my second life started.