Chapter 27: Gorgeous

Without a moment's hesitation, I made a beeline for the bathroom, Kyle's USB firmly gripped in my hands. I turned the small device over and over, feeling the cool plastic against my skin before I stepped into the sanctum of the lavatory.

Upon entering, I was greeted by my reflection in the mirror. I retrieved from my coveted Gucci bag the lipstick I had recently purchased. With practiced ease, I reapplied the vibrant shade to my lips, enhancing their natural rosiness. The end result was a bold, striking color that added an extra pop to my appearance. I pursed my lips together, distributing the lipstick evenly.

Next, I turned my attention to my curly hair. I decided to let it loose, shaking out the curls that cascaded down to my shoulders. I preferred this style to the ponytail I had sported earlier - it felt more natural, more me. I reached for a comb and ran it through my locks, the bristles smoothing out any knots and tangles.

With my hair taken care of, I placed the USB back into my Gucci bag. I took one last look at my reflection, examining my outfit and overall appearance. Satisfied with what my looks now, I exited the bathroom.

When I returned to our table, I was met with an array of reactions. Several people turned their heads to look at me, some even staring in awe. A few even stopped me to ask for a picture, requests that I graciously obliged. I thought to myself that they should be focusing on the birthday celebrant tonight. I wouldn't want to steal the spotlight from him.

My cousin, ever the joker, chimed in, "Can I get a picture too?" He was standing next to Wada, both of them grinning at me.

I handed the cellphone back to the woman who had asked for a picture. She thanked me with a smile before disappearing into the crowd.

"Where would you like to take the picture?" I played along with my cousin's joke, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

He chuckled softly. Wada, standing beside him, was also looking at me. I gave him a sweet smile, which he returned instantly.

"You look even more beautiful with your hair down. And your curls are stunning!" Wada complimented me.

Her compliment brought a spark of joy to my heart, although I kept my reaction subtle. I then excused myself to return to our table after my cousin and Wada informed me they would sit at another table.

Yanna's gaze swept over me as I approached, her eyes lingering on my hair before taking in the rest of my appearance. I caught a fleeting hint of envy in her eyes before she quickly looked away when our gazes met.

I took my seat quietly. Beside me was Kyle, who seemed stunned by my transformation.

I chose to ignore him and instead focused on the ongoing preparations for the evening's entertainment. There were performers, clowns, and various other attractions being set up to ensure the guests would have a memorable time. Clowns? What is this? Kids party?

Soon, the strains of a violin filled the room. Several couples got up from their seats to dance, led by Kyle's parents.

I cast a glance over to my parents and couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude. I'm incredibly fortunate to have a father who embodies responsibility, gentlemanliness, and camaraderie. He's more than just a good father, he's a devoted and caring husband.

His love for my mother and me is reflected in every facet of his behavior. He treats my mother with the utmost respect and adoration, as if she were a goddess, a queen, a precious crystal gem that must be protected at all costs. Unfortunately, I haven't been as lucky in choosing a boyfriend who matches up to my father's high standards.

I often wonder why I did not inherit my mother's knack for choosing a good partner. Why didn't I choose someone like my father? It's clear that I've set the bar too low for my own love life. I ended up with a man, Kyle, who would eventually hurt me and deceive me.

I made the wrong choice. I let the wrong person into my life. Among the numerous suitors and admirers I had, there must have been at least one who would have treated me with the decency and respect I deserved, unlike Kyle.

Kyle has never shown me the small gestures of love and respect that my father shows my mother. He's never carried my bags, not even the heavy ones, nor has he ever opened car doors for me or brought me food.

At first, I thought it was normal. Perhaps, I thought, Kyle just wasn't into the kind of relationship that felt overly affectionate or cringe-worthy, so I let it slide. But now, it's becoming clearer why he didn't even make the effort to do these things for me, not even once.

Kyle wasn't sincere when he pursued me. Yes, I feel that he wasn't sincere and yet I let him enter my life. I am also an idiot. He only showed me kindness during the courtship period, which was all a façade.

Sadly, this is how some people operate. They court someone only to shatter their feelings in the end. We women are usually content with our peaceful lives and our various activities until men come along, wanting to enter our lives, get to know us, and become our boyfriends. They make us fall for them at first, only to leave us in the end or, worse, replace us with someone else.

As I watched my parents dance, my attention was solely focused on them until a hand suddenly appeared in front of my face. I looked up, my eyebrow raised, only to be slightly irritated when I saw that it was Kyle. I quickly glanced at Yanna's reaction. She looked disappointed; her shoulders slumped, and a frown marred her face.

To annoy her further, I took Kyle's hand and I make a mental note to sanitize it later to avoid any possible contamination from him.

He led me to the dance floor. I placed my hands lightly on his chest, resisting the urge to pull away. I forced myself to take his hand, not wanting to start another argument with him.

His hand went to my waist. I shot him a sharp look as he tightened his grip.

"Kyle," I called his name sternly, sounding a warning.

I wouldn't put it past myself to slap him right in the middle of this romantic dance. I wouldn't hesitate to embarrass him in front of his father's guests.

His gaze found me, his eyes boring into me with an intensity that once would have ignited a flame within me. I held his gaze, trying to decipher the complex web of feelings that was tangled within me. The spark that had once existed, the electricity that used to make my heart race and my skin tingle, had vanished. All I could feel when I looked at him now was a profound sense of ennui. There was a time when the merest meeting of our eyes seemed to send currents of electricity surging through my body, igniting a whirlwind of emotions. But now, that sensation had dissipated, leaving me in a state of confusion, unable to discern what I was feeling.

"What?" I asked, my patience wearing thin. Maintaining eye contact was becoming a tedious task, especially with him. The monotony was becoming unbearable.

"You're gorgeous," he whispered, his voice a deep, resonant baritone.

There was a time when the sound of his voice in that tone would have sent a fluttering sensation through my stomach, making my heart pound and my skin prickle with anticipation. But now, those feelings were replaced by a sense of discomfort. A cringe-worthy moment that made my eyebrows furrow in confusion. His voice did elicit a response from me, but it was far from the thrill I used to feel. The prickling sensation was not out of excitement, but rather a reaction to the awkwardness of the situation.

"I'm always gorgeous," I retorted, my tone laced with indifference.

His lips curved into a smile, revealing his perfectly white teeth. His gaze remained on me, a silent observer, while my eyes wandered to his chest. My mind was a whirlpool of thoughts, grappling with the myriad changes that had occurred, the numerous things that had disappeared, and the inexplicable feelings that I was now experiencing.