She glared at him before storming out of the car, livid. He had tried placing his hand over hers after pulling into the garage.
He sat idly at the wheel, mulling over how best to defuse the situation. They were at his work function in one of the city's posh nightclubs to celebrate the success of an acquisition when the unexpected happened.
She'd caught his assistant kissing him on the lips upon entering the unisex toilet. In the confusion he heard a shriek only to see her covering her mouth, stunned by the sight of them, turned away and left.
Before dashing out of the toilet, he muttered to his distressed assistant that they'd talk it over at work next week.
Her phone was off. Where would she have gone? His pulse thumped between his ears as he searched aimlessly in crowded city streets on a Friday night. He finally gave up half an hour later and dragged his emptied being back to the car park. He certainly did not expect to see her there, her lean frame leaning against the pillar of their car.
Neither of them spoke a word on the way home – it was the longest 30 kays he'd ever driven.
He honestly had no idea what got into his assistant. She'd learnt about his relationship shortly after joining the firm. Heck, she'd even seen them together at their last work function. At any rate, he'd have to wait until next week to find out. Right now though, there's a more pressing issue at hand.
She did not bother to switch on any lamp on her way in. Moonlight spilled into the room through the glass door, lending the space just enough light. He saw her standing by the patio, the skin on her back glowing softly. With her back facing him, he could make out none of her expressions.
She'd need some more alone time, he figured. To clear his mind, he jumped in for a quick shower and threw on some fresh T-shirt and a pair of pyjamas pants.
Refreshed, he made his way to the patio. She's lying on a chaise now in a foetal position. He slid open the door to join her. She had on her a thousand-yard stare; he could very well be invisible to her.
"Slap me," he said quietly.
She did not respond. Exasperated, he moved closer to her.
"Don't ever think you can get away with a slap!" came her reply seething with anger.
He considered his next move while remaining still opposite her. Cicadas were singing in the background. The summer had been balmy, but it's coming to an end. A hint of chill had already crept into the night air.
"You need to get this out of your system before you'd listen to me. Trust me; it's not what you think it is."
He waited patiently for her response, but no word escaped her lips. It was getting chillier out. She must be cold too, he thought.
He inched towards her, making the deck creak in the process. She tried to get away from him, but he's a lot swifter – in a split second he'd seized her and spun her around.
Gingerly, he placed his palm on her face to turn her head towards him just so he could look her in the eye.
He could feel the flaming rage in her eyes burning holes through him. If looks could kill, this would be it.
"Slap me," he repeated.
With that, he let go of her and backed away for a foot.
She slapped him hard. He caught her hand then and pulled her towards him, ignoring the sting.
In a low whisper, he recounted how the incident took place while holding her firm. Her arms hung loose over their embrace.
"Are you still angry?"
"Should I believe your little story?"
The night got even chillier, the cicadas louder.
He loosened his grip on her. This time, she moved back a few steps. She studied his expressions with steely eyes, wanting so badly to believe what he proffered was the truth. But she couldn't cast her doubt away. No, not with what she saw.
"Why would I lie to you?"
"She's your colleague! Tell me, how long has it been going on for?"
He was both hurt and upset now; it took him a lot of restrain to not let it show.
