Chasing

“Let’s get married, Klan.”

I choke on the water, spurting it all over my clothes. I cough repeatedly while Beverly tries to help by taking one of the napkins on our table and reaching out to wipe the stain on my shirt with it but I take it from her to do it myself, looking around to see if anyone just saw the mighty CEO make a fool of himself.

That is exactly when I see her in a single flash–Leslie or someone who looks like her, I’m not sure, can’t tell with just the side profile of the person as they make their way through a corner that I assume leads to the restroom. At first, I think I’ve finally lost it to the point that I now hallucinate, it feels too good to be just another figment of my imagination.

I stand on my feet, telling Beverly that I needed to use the restroom to get myself clean and then I leave our table, following the trail of who I had seen to the restroom. The ladies room is just opposite the male’s and so instead of going in, I wait outside the male restroom, hoping to God that no one comes this way and that I am right, that I really did see Leslie.

The door opens after what seems like forever and when the woman steps out, I finally understand why I doubted if it was truly her; because I have never imagined Leslie in the way that she now stands before me, eyes wide in shock.

The elegance in how she is dressed baffles me so much that I am stunned into total silence, my eyes running over her body. She is clad in a red dinner gown that leaves too much skin bare. So much skin that is not in Leslie’s nature to show. She is nothing like the timid woman I have been married to for three years and more like a powerful woman ready to take on the world with an unsmiling face and an Upstodatee from Novel(D)ra/m/a.O(r)g

unshakable resolve. This wild side of her does something to me, totally numbs my senses and the ability to process anything.

In my moment of weakness staring at her, she tries to leave but that is exactly what snaps me out of my haze and I stop her before she can leave, caging her to the wall. She looks up at me, eyes narrowing into angry slits.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” She snaps at me.

“Leslie, it is really you.” I say, unable to hide my surprise.

“Now that you know, I’d appreciate it if you get out of my face.” She says again.

All of the frustration from the past week fizzles out, filling me with relief like never before, making me ignore the fact that she has just told me to get the hell out of her face.

“Leslie…God, I’ve missed you.” I find myself confessing, Leslie’s frown doesn’t crack. Instead, it deepens and she pushes me off her, trying to get away but I pull her back.

“Let go of me!”

“Let go? Are you serious right now? Do you know how hard I looked for you? Do you know how worried I was? Where the hell did you go for an entire week?”

She snatches her hand away from mine, “It is none of your business. I sent you the divorce papers already, Kian. We. Are. Done.” She spells it out to me. The reminder of that godforsaken divorce paper makes my relief morph into anger rather quickly.

I try to put everything together; the stranger in the footage, her unexpected presence at such a high class restaurant, the obviously expensive clothes, new look, and the result I got from putting these things together leaves a really bad taste in my mouth. It causes me to grab her before she can leave again, spinning her around so she can meet my fiery eyes.

“Who is it?” I ask through clenched teeth.

“What?” she looks at me in genuine confusion.

“Who the hell have you been sleeping with? Is the one who brought you here, paid for that damned slutty dress?” Her mouth opens at my accusation just as her face turns red in anger but before she can say anything. I hear someone approach us at the same time the person commands,

“Let go of her right now, Kian.”

It’s Travis and he doesn’t look happy to see me.