…Until the devil struck…
Before that, I had felt happiness inside of me – one that showed that it was nice having everyone around.
And what’s that acorn doing in my house? I excused myself from the table and began walking to where the man in a red tux was drinking from my glass – my very own glass!
I cared less about Raymond seeing me. I just wanted to get rid of this guy once and for all.
“Surprise!” Happy fingers welcomed me, as I took no notice.
“What are you doing here?”
He took a sip of the red wine and said, “I’m not sure you really want to know,” He moved the glass halfway across his lips which were partly wet.
“Why do you keep on pestering me then? Haven’t you had enough?!” I tried to contain my anger, as he ignored me and continued, taking another sip.
“If you’d just give me what I want, I won’t do that anymore.”
“Haven’t I told you what you wanted to hear? Tricia isn’t your daughter. And about the night you so claimed we had in LA? It definitely didn’t yield anything.” I brought down my voice, and relieved my eyes a bit
“Oh, Lucille,” He chuckled, having a final gulp of his drink. “You know, as much as you try to fool me, you will never be able to because you’re not as smart as you think.” He got up from his seat, and placed his black tie in order.
“Ah, Patrick! How nice of you to come.”
My breath seized on recognizing who it was.
“Wouldn’t miss it for anything, partner!” Patrick raised his empty glass.
The two men shook hands, and I stood staring – uttering no word, I excused myself and made to leave, as Raymond’s hand caught mine, bringing me to a stop.
“Not so fast, babe. Where are you off to?” He asked.
“To check up on our daughter.” I gave a fast reply, hoping he’d understand.
“Come on, she’s having fun wherever she is. You should have fun, too.”He pulled me into his arms.
“Raymond, are you drunk?”
“Not yet. I see you’ve met Patrick,”
“Yeah.” I answered laconically, not in the mood to talk.
“Patrick… my wife,” He went about the introduction, and I said ‘hello’. Why does Raymond have to be friends with anyone? What if Patrick ends up spilling his guts? My mind remained unease all through the occasion.
It was late, and we bid everyone goodbye, as they retired back to their homes, and us, too. I had the housekeepers go about their jobs, while I had Raymond under series of interrogations up in our bedroom.
“Lucille, I don’t understand all these questions you’re asking me. Is it a bad thing that Patrick works with me?” Raymond’s pupils were dilated as he knew not where the conversation was heading. “And what’s with the worry? Is there something you’re not telling me?”
I sighed with regret, wondering why I had brought the subject up in the first place. “You know what, baby. You shouldn’t bother.” I kissed him on his forehead, and made to lie down.
I could still see him at the edge, a disturbed expression seated upon his face. I forced myself up slowly, making towards him, as I slipped my arms under his and, with my head perfectly rested on his back, asked, “Are you angry with me?”
He said nothing, and I spoke further. “I’m sorry, okay? I just have this feeling that you two shouldn’t be business partners.”
“And that’s what I’d like to know.” He turned slightly. “What is it about him that makes you already not wanting him working with us?” He inquired curiously, and I pulled away.
“I just felt – you know what, babe, let’s just drop this… okay? I don’t want us arguing this night.”
“Then you shouldn’t have brought it up!” He scolded with teeth clenched.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry. Please let’s just get some sleep. I’m really tired.” A yawn escaped my lips at the thought of sleeping.
He made no move of coming in bed with me, and I felt sad about it, knowing my question must have gotten him upset. I bid him goodnight, which he replied in a more unusual tone, and I had no other option than to go to sleep without being snuggled up in his arms.
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