Untamed

Marissa's point of view.

It's been two hell of a week, my relationship with Morgan has gotten worse with each passing day.

I thought my e-mail to him would set matters straight, but it only aggravated the issue.

I really don't know why he hates me so much. Anyway, the feeling is mutual now. I feel sorry for whoever ends up as his wife, he is so unbearable.

I laid on my bed, exhausted.

This week has been crazy. Apart from Morgan's evil ways, I have been feeling under the weather of late.

"Huff," I exclaimed, recalling the event of the day.

Flashback 

I was sitting in my office, arranging some files on my table, when the office phone rang.

Marrissa, get me a cup of coffee, Morgan's voice thundered through the phone.

"What! There was a coffee maker right in his office. Why tell me to make one for him?" I wondered.

"I really pray I won't murder you one of these days," I whispered, leaving my office.

I went to his office, hoping to get the coffee there instead of going downstairs.

"Where is my coffee?" he asked, the very second I opened the door to his office.

I gestured towards the coffee maker, standing close to the wall, hoping he would get the message.

"You think I wouldn't make coffee myself if the coffee maker wasn't faulty," he asked.

"Well, who knows, you might suddenly have become handicapped," I whispered to myself.

"What did you say?" He shouted.

"I'll go make you a coffee sir," I said, leaving his office.

I went downstairs and made my petty boss a cup of coffee.

Placing the cup carefully on the table, I turned to leave.

"Wait"

"What now?" I murmured.

"I hope you didn't spit in my coffee, because last, I know you are very good at spitting on things and people."

"Really! He still remembers, "God, what kind of person are you?" I thought.

"I didn't spit on it sir," I replied.

He tasted the coffee and immediately spat it out.

"What is this, are you trying to poison me?"

He screamed.

"What would your death give me, dollars? Oh yes, it will give me my life back, my peace of mind." I almost voiced out.

"Is there a problem?" I asked instead.

"Come here," he said, gesturing with his hands like he was talking to a child.

I slowly moved towards his table, took the cup of coffee and tasted it.

"Perfect taste sir," I said, smiling.

He raised his eyebrows, "Are you kidding me, he screamed, "go make me another, and reduce the damn sugar." He ordered.

"I'm sorry sir, I didn't know you were diabetic" I said. I went back downstairs and made the damn coffee, reducing the sugar.

"Here you go sir," I said, forcing a smile.

He took a sip and again spat it out,

"Why is this coffee too bland?" He asked.

"Make me another." I stood still, looking at him.

"This isn't about coffee, is it? Why don't you tell me what this is really about," I said, pulling out a seat.

He looked at me for a minute or two, then said,

"I don't know what you are talking about, all I want right now is for you to get me another coffee, right now, he ordered.

"I tried," I whispered, before getting on my feet.

Making the coffee, I didn't bother adding any sweetener, I placed the sugar in a saucer.

"Here you go, sir."

He looked at the saucer, and then at me.

"You know what, I think I prefer honey to sugar."

"Make another. Use honey, not sugar."

"That was it," I said. "I'm done being patient. My thought was to pour the hot coffee on him and hand him a dirty slap before walking out of his office."

I took the cup and headed to my office. I sat down, sipping the coffee, legs stretched on my desk.

"It's obvious my boss needs a psychiatrist. No normal person would behave this way, I said to myself. 

Minutes later, the office phone rang. I knew it was Morgan calling. I didn't pick up.

Next, he called my personal line.

Not bothering to see who was calling, I picked up the phone.

"Hello….."

"Where is my damn coffee?" Morgan's voice was like thunder, almost deafening me.

"I'm sorry sir, I noticed there wasn't any honey available, so I went downhill to get it for you, knowing it's important for your health." I said, almost laughing at myself.

That silent him.

"Hurry, I don't have all day."

"Okay sir."

I stretched my legs again, relaxing on my chair.

When I was rested enough, I took the coffee to him.

I could see the anger in him, and it only made my stomach dance for joy.

"You really have some nerves," he said, angry.

"I'm sorry sir, I had to visit different supermarkets, looking for the best for you," I said in a fake soft voice.

"Get out," he ordered.

I turned and walked majestically to my office.

"Let's see who gives up first," I said, smiling.

End of flashback.

I stretched lazily on my bed.

The air in the room suddenly went too hot for my convenience.

I flung the curtains open, allowing the evening air to stream in, but I suddenly felt cold and closed the curtain immediately.

I could feel a dull ache in my temples, and my stomach was twisting. 

"Maybe it's food I need," I said, walking into the kitchen.

I decided to prepare spicy noodles and fried chicken.

I held my stomach all through the preparation.

"What's going on? Why does my stomach hurt so badly? Is it my monthly cycle?"

I usually have severe pains, a night to my monthly flow but this pain felt different.

At last, the meal was ready, and I sat down to enjoy it.

One spoon alone led me to the bathroom.

Getting on my knees, I threw up everything in my belly.

"I need to see the doctor first thing tomorrow morning," I said, going into bed.