Ethan sat at the bar, a glass of whisky in his hand, slowly sipping, lost in his own world. The dim lights made his face look even more tired and broken.
The bartender had noticed him sitting there for almost two hours, barely moving, just drinking and staring into nothing.
It was already 2 AM. The bar was empty, except for Ethan.
The manager, Edie, walked over carefully. "Sir, it's time to close the restaurant," he said politely. They had already tried asking him a few times, but Ethan didn't answer anyone. He just sat there like a statue.
When Edie gently tapped his shoulder, Ethan finally raised his head. His eyes were dark and hollow, almost lifeless.
"Leave me alone," Ethan said, his voice low and heavy,
Edie sighed as he didn't want to involve any kind of fight and he left the place, so was the guy, but before he can leave Ethan ordered, "Hey, pour me another glass."
Edie this time annoyed as he placed few bottles before him. As soon as he was alone, Ethan closed his eyes.
Memories flashed in his mind—
His trust was wild and deep, Ava clung to him, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. She pressed soft kisses against his neck, hoping—begging—to feel a trace of the love that once lived between them.
But he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head, holding her still.
He stared down at her, his eyes wild, hollow.
"You've become my fucking personal slut!" he said coldly, his voice cutting through her heart like a blade.
Tears spilled from the corners of Ava's eyes, but she said nothing. Her body trembled under him.
Still, she couldn't stop herself from asking—the questions that burned inside her chest.
"Do you feel at peace when you're with her?" she whispered, her voice broken.
Ethan's body stiffened.
She didn't need to say her name. He knew exactly who she meant—Natalia.
Ava swallowed her sobs and asked again, barely able to breathe, "Are you happy when you're with her?"
Ethan clenched his jaw tightly, his muscles tense with anger—or maybe guilt. He didn't answer.
Instead, he pulled away slightly—only to thrust back into her harsher than before, causing a painful gasp to escape her lips.
As she wanted to ask more but before she could even form the words, Ethan covered her mouth with his hand.
He moved rougher, faster, the bitterness between them spilling into every harsh movement. His nails scraped against her skin, leaving red marks. His nail digging her breast as he sucked them hard, pinching them and slapping them making them bounce.
Her whole body soon covered with his angry bites but not even once she asked him to stop, because the pain in her body was nothing compared to the pain in her heart and somehow this physical pain distracting her from getting heart tearing apart.
Ethan turned her around as it's getting hard for him to look in to her eyes and the way she was looking at him in between of these intense session it's different as if he didn't know her and he never saw this look at her face.
He couldn't bear it—the silent tears, the way she still loved him despite everything. It twisted something ugly inside him.
Without waiting, he pushed into her again, harder, crueler.
Ava let out a broken scream, clutching the bed sheets tightly between her fists.
"What's wrong?" Ethan sneered against her ear. "Can't handle it? Too much for you now?"
His words cut deeper than any of the bruises.
He didn't stop.
He didn't even slow down.
"When I fuck Natalia, it's different," he said coldly. "She moans. She doesn't look at me like you do—with those pathetic, pleading eyes."
"Whenever I took her from behind her moan seems pleasurable unlike you."- He didn't stop as he continued.
"Yes, I feel happy when I am with Natalia, Yes I feel at ease when I am with Natalia."
Tears poured from Ava's eyes, silent and endless.
And still, she said nothing.
Because what could she say when the man she loved was tearing her apart—piece by piece—and not even caring enough to see it?
He knew he was close, as his thrust become more aggressive the closer he comes, her body jerked in violently. He grabbed her hips one last time and pounded out the last orgasm as he finally reached to his final orgasm and filled her with thick cum.
"Fuck!"- he grumbled, trying to keep his own composer, For a few seconds, he stayed there—still, silent.
Then slowly, he pulled away, rolling to the side of the bed. He stared at the ceiling, chest rising and falling with each deep breath.
Ava didn't move.
She lay on her stomach, her body still; eyes open, staring at nothing. Her breathing was shaky, not from passion—but from everything else she had no words left to explain.
Ethan turned his head slightly, looking at her back.
Something about her stillness unnerved him.
He reached out—just barely—to touch her hair. His fingers hovered for a moment… but then he pulled his hand back.
Without a word, he got up from the bed.
He walked into the bathroom, the sound of running water echoing behind the silence she left.
When he came out, dressed, distant, and cold… Ava was still in the same place and at the same position.
He just left the room.
Left her there.
Alone.
Empty.