My girlfriend of five years was spotted in a club kissing my best friend.
I left the place without a word.
To my surprise, I didn’t feel a thing.
I drove my car at a normal speed. Too nonchalant for someone who just witnessed such betrayal.
I got back home, getting back to my room, and sat on the bed, staring at the ring which was wrapped around my finger.
I didn’t ask why, when, or how. I just thought about them and then there’s that. That they were there. Together. Behind my back.
Was I shocked? Of course. Was I sad? That I can’t tell.
It felt as though my emotions died the moment I saw something I predicted before. Was it supposed to feel like this when I found out?
Was I supposed to feel nothing?
I wanted to punch his face, as well as throwing the engagement ring in front of her face, causing a scene and made both of them embarrassed that they were a pair of undeserving fools, but I just left.
And I didn’t regret it. I didn’t regret seeing their questioning faces when I walked out of the club as if nothing happened.
And why was I more bothered with the fact that I didn’t feel anything than knowing my girlfriend cheated on me with my best friend?