Randall struck the man, causing him to fall to the ground, chasing his breath as the swirling blue lighting landed on his hands while they were gripped firmly as smoke enveloped him.
The man rose after wiping the blood off his lips. When he screamed, the roars throughout the studio cause to bouncers run towards us.
“Who are you?! You scumbag?” He was ready to hit Randall when he was stopped by two bouncers. Randall remained there, looking sternly at the man. I just stood also and observed what was going on. I’m at a bit of a loss. Instead of being enraged, as Ava and I had intended, I said nothing.
The man was still trying to escape to get revenge on Randall when Ava and another man came, this time the buddy Randall hit. Ava smiled and waved, but I gave her a blank look. The man was yelping like a maniac at his sounds, and he was like going to drool.
My formerly inebriated soul and unsteady intellect appeared to have been watered and rejuvenated because of what happens.
“I’m OK, you can let me go,” Randall told the bouncer who was holding him. The bouncers gradually release him to ensure his calm. Randall remains still, and they let go of him. But we all thought everything was settled and fine till he suddenly leaped up and struck the man square in the face.
People who were previously yelling are now laughing. Randall hauled me out, and the pace of his step left me breathless.
“Ouch!” I complained about the discomfort of having these high heels and it snap. I was stunned and felt as though my foot was paralyzed. He ground to a standstill but didn’t glance back, and let go of my hand as well.
“Will you even explain to your husband why you’re here? Why did you unexpectedly leave the event and then claim you don’t want to return home?” I could envision his angry eyes. Even though he didn’t look up, I simply sat there, stroking my foot. I didn’t respond and continued to touch my foot as if nothing had happened.
Why would I respond? Didn’t he treat me the same way? He hasn’t heard from me about the things I’ve been through today. Why is he here? I didn’t even question him about his kiss to Charlotte. I also did not blame him for what occurred to me on the way to his event. He didn’t even question why I was dressed differently than I should have been.
If the joke had to be human, Randall would be a suitable candidate. He asks himself the question he should have asked himself first. Even though I struggle, I stood up since I think I had hurt my foot. I will not ride in his car.
“Again, where are you going?” He pulled my hand from him so I could face his mad face. Because I get dizzier, I feel as if my entire body has been rocked. I never showed it to him.
I shook his grip on me and tossed it aside. He was taken aback by what I did. I kept walking while dealing with the discomfort in my feet. Nonetheless, no words came out of my lips. He followed me right away and took out his key.
“Get in. Let’s head home.” He attempts to grasp my hand, but I resist so he can’t touch me. I don’t like it even if he simply sticks his fingernail to me. I didn’t want him to touch me with the hands that he uses when holding Charlotte in.
He ran fast and went where. Just a few seconds later, there was a car overturned next to me. Randall drives it while slowing it down to accompany me on the walk. He opened the window. “Winter. Get in, it’s getting late. The air is cold and you might get sick.” I didn’t listen and continued.
Because it was already dark, few cars were passing by, but luckily, there was a taxi parked on the side. The cab that I would have stopped for couldn’t approach since Randall wasn’t leaving the road. When I came to a stop, he came to a halt as well.
“If you stick with me, I might never actually go home,” I said flatly. There is no bitterness or hatred; it is emotionless.
He slowed down and let me cross the street. I pushed open the back cab door. I almost fell because I couldn’t stand the ache in my feet any longer.
When I got home, I instantly noticed his car parked in the garage. He, too, was standing at the gate, arm crossed and leaning to the side. I simply walked past him and went inside. As we moved upstairs, there was a gap between us. The entire home was dark. They turned the lights off, and only the moonlight provided brightness. I assume the maids have left, and the lobby, where the designer and the make-up artist used, is likewise spotless. I simply took two steps but my body has already shaken up. I’m not sure if it was due to the liquor or because of the pain in my feet. I can feel them both. Randall snatched me up and assisted me in standing up correctly.
I grasped the handrail and strengthened my grip, hoping to avoid a repeat of the fall. I only took my pajamas, pillows, and blankets from the cupboard once I was in the bedroom because I was going to sleep in the other room. Randall pressed his hand against the door and pleaded with me. I felt a squeeze in my heart at that point. At those times, I wanted to hug him because I was hurt by the way he looked at me. Isn’t that unfortunate? Why? Why are you staring at me so intently? Why look at me like you pity me?
“Isn’t it something you do as well? Because you don’t want to sleep in this room, you’re going to sleep in the other room.” Even though he was there, I clenched the doorknob and twirled it. He got out of his place and moved to the side. Even if that’s what I’d like him to do, I can’t deny that I’d like him to explain why he did that. Why had the wind changed suddenly and he started sleeping in the other room? Is Charlotte the spring of the problem?
I didn’t hear from him until I went outside the door. Even when I close that, Randall isn’t there to hug me back. I was prepared to move to the other room when no one stopped me. When the door opened again. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt relieved. But, because of what he said, it shattered all the joy that had built up like glass.
“What? You’re just like all the other women? You’ll never be satisfied with your husband? Why are you acting so strangely?” He didn’t shout, but his words were filled with insults and hate. Is that what he’s thinking about? That merely because of the man I danced with at the bar, I can’t be satisfied? That was not something I desired. What I heard made my body shiver. I didn’t, however, show him I was weak.
I recall what Ava said about martyrdom becoming out of style. It’s not nice to be weak because people will make you feel that way, especially if you’re a woman. I’m not going to show them the images, and I’m not going to ask or push him to tell me about Charlotte.
“You don’t want to sleep close to me, do you? Because that’s your room, I’ll simply return it to you.” His jaw was clenched, but before I turned around, I speak again, “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to sleep in that bed again… Especially since I’m no longer happy in this marriage.” I paused. “Oh! I’m not even happy with it in the first place.”