Chapter 5 I Love Lara

• TONY.
• I remember her. How could I forget? She was the girl who stirred up such intense emotions within me, unlike anything I had ever experienced before. It was overwhelming, to say the least, and it prompted me to leave abruptly the next morning.
• Her image was etched into my memory—the vibrant red dress she wore, her face filled with a mixture of pleasure and desire as we passionately connected. I felt something, a powerful sensation, though I couldn't quite comprehend it. Regardless, I didn't want to delve into it further, so I made the decision to walk away. It seemed like the best course of action at the time.
• I remember her, but I chose not to acknowledge it. My heart now belonged to Lara, and my focus was on building a future with her. The past should remain in the past. There was no need to revisit it, as it may only lead to complications. I don't want that for myself, for her, or for the woman I am deeply in love with.
• I love Lara. Our paths first crossed at my cousin's wedding. She possessed a graceful figure, slender yet curvaceous. The warm caramel tone of her complexion intrigued me. I watched with fascination as her skilled fingers delicately adorned my cousin's eyelids with glitters and other embellishments, concentration evident on her face. When she finished, her arched eyebrows lifted ever so slightly, catching me in the act of staring. I couldn't help but gasp at being caught. Her velvety black lashes blinked languidly, as if inviting me closer, and I obliged. As I approached, I noticed the intricate swirls of her ears and the elegance of her nose. Her radiant, pearl-white teeth flashed as she playfully tapped me with her glamorous nails. Her hair tumbled in a glorious cascade of voluminous black strands, and her deep brown eyes set my heart racing with their enchanting gaze.
• And then she spoke, her words flowing with confidence, boldness, and a vibrant energy that was undeniably extroverted. She never ran out of things to say, carrying herself with self-assurance. She knew her beauty and didn't shy away from embracing it. Modesty was not her forte; she flaunted her allure whenever the opportunity arose. And honestly, she was exactly my kind of woman. Unyielding, aware of her worth without needing to prove it—a confident queen who held herself in high regard, impervious to insecurities. Not that she had any reason to harbor them; she exuded the essence of an African goddess.
• When I entered the club earlier and caught sight of Beth amongst a group of girls that was obviously Lara’s friends, I was taken aback. Our eyes met repeatedly, and I sensed her gaze fixed on me, perhaps attempting to ascertain if I remembered. I concealed any inkling of recognition, or at least I hoped I did. Feigning forgetfulness seemed like the better choice, avoiding the reopening of an old chapter that held no logical significance.
• "I'm sorry. She's been going through a rough time since her boyfriend dumped her. That's actually why we planned this outing," Lara explained, intervening to prevent her from consuming more drinks. I simply nodded in response, all the while reminiscing about the last time she was down and drowning her sorrows with excessive alcohol—a night that led to our intimate encounter.
• I couldn't help but ponder why any man would mistreat a woman like her. Lara had shared numerous personal stories about her, often divulging too much information. Little did I know then that the same woman I had once been entangled with and struggled to forget was the subject of those conversations.
• "I need to use the restroom," she announced, her words carrying an unintentional volume. It was evident that she had indulged in one too many drinks, as she grappled to maintain her balance while walking. Lara promptly enlisted the help of one of their friends to assist her, successfully escorting her away from our vicinity.
• As soon as she departed, Lara broached the subject of her friend once more.
• "She keeps giving these worthless guys chances in her life, and they keep ruining it for her. She's never had any luck in relationships," Lara remarked.
• "Well, you know what they say, you can't have it all. She's practically swimming in wealth because of her father, and she has everything she could ever desire. She simply wants too much. If I were her, I'd learn to be content. Life can't grant you every little thing," replied one of Lara's acquaintances whose name slipped my mind.
• "Oh, please. It's karma at play. Her mother used to go around seducing other women's partners in her prime until she finally ensnared a wealthy man and bore his child, even though he was married. It's simply karma catching up with her, if you ask me. Maybe she should consider becoming a mistress herself, you know?" Lara casually uttered, lacking any filter. I couldn't help but feel disappointed as she spoke so callously about her supposed best friend.
• It's not as though I hadn't noticed Lara's flaws before—superficiality and the like—but I had chosen to accept her with her imperfections. That's what love was all about, embracing each other's flaws. After all, no one is perfect, not even myself. I had addressed these concerns with her on numerous occasions, and she had promised to work on her condescending and shallow tendencies. Though I had yet to witness any significant changes, it didn't alter my feelings for her. I had resolved to give her time and patience.
• The other woman who accompanied Beth to the restroom returned, retrieving Beth's bag and mentioning that she wanted to leave early. She disappeared once more, only to reemerge with some gentlemen. Lara concocted a series of excuses, instructing me to head home and assuring me that she would call me the following morning.
• As soon as I sank into my king-sized bed, my thoughts became clouded with images of a certain black dress and black heels—ones that didn't belong to Lara. I vigorously shook my head, attempting to banish those thoughts, only for them to be replaced by visions of long, blonde hair and pale, white skin.
• It was happening again.