AN AFFAIR WITH MY HUSBAND (TEN)

— TOBIAS —

I notice her watching me as I drive, and the thought sends my heart racing at an unexplainable pace. Even though I could easily ask my assistant to fetch me coffee from the office, I don’t want her to leave just yet. Having her around feels comforting amidst my almost chaotic world.

“In this world of chaos, you are my peace.” Anna’s words echo in my mind. She had lied. Marrying her turned out to be the complete opposite, and suddenly, Renee felt like a breath of fresh air.

I don’t want to become the cliché husband who cheats on his wife, but perhaps Renee and I could build something devoid of romance. Maybe a friendship or mere companionship; she seems easy to talk to.

I pull the car up in front of Starbucks. I get out first, but she’s already stepping out before I can hold the door for her, so we walk in together. As we reach the entrance, I feel her grip on my suit jacket. She gradually releases me when I look her way, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes.

“I think we should just get our coffee and leave. I don’t want to cause you any trouble,” she mutters.

“I can handle that. You shouldn’t be bothered,” I find myself saying, trying to persuade her. Why am I trying to convince her? Normally, I wouldn’t care what someone thought about something as trivial as coffee, but with her, it’s different.

“I know, but we both have work. Maybe we can sit down for coffee another time?”

I sigh, not wanting to push her further and respecting her boundaries. Her words are like a wake-up call: I’m married, my wife is angry with me, and I’m angry at her. Having coffee with my maid doesn’t seem appropriate, even if Anna has never been the ideal wife.

I step inside to order our coffee, with Renee following behind, her hands tucked deep into her pockets.

“What would you like?” I ask as we reach the counter.

“A cappuccino would be nice.” She flashes a brief smile, and I place the order, opting for black coffee myself. I even pay extra for croissants, her eyes fixed on me the entire time.

Despite knowing that half the people in the café are staring and whispering, the look on her face as she watches me intrigues me in the most alluring way.

I turn to hand Renee her coffee and croissants before heading for the door. I glance at her hands, and an odd thought crosses my mind: I want to hold them. I shake it off, but in a flash, as I look up, I feel someone collide with my chest, hot liquid spilling onto my shirt.

I look down to see a middle-aged blonde woman staring at me, her mouth agape.

Renee freezes as well, and I take a few steps back, wiping some coffee from my eyes.

“Oh my... I’m so sorry!” The woman begins to apologize, her hands reaching out to me. I barely process her words before I feel her arms wrap around my neck, dragging my face down to plant a sloppy kiss on my lips.

I push her away immediately, a scene forming around us, and my heart races as I spit out the taste of her lips and wipe the remnants of her lipstick from my mouth.

“What is wrong with you?” I frantically yell.

“I... um —” Renee cuts in, throwing her cappuccino in the woman’s face, causing the crowd to gasp in shock.

“You wench!” the woman growls, and soon, Renee lunges at her. Both women squeal, grunt, and scream as they wrestle on the tiled floor.

“Renee, let her go. It’s fine!” I attempt to intervene, but she doesn’t hear me. She’s on top of the woman now, delivering punches fiercely. I can’t believe she’s fighting for me; it’s oddly satisfying to watch, but I can’t let her get hurt. People are already filming the altercation, and I quickly grab her by the underarms, pulling her away. She’s panting heavily, kicking her legs as she struggles against my grip.

“B*tch, keep your slutty lips away from him!” the woman hisses.

I part my lips to reassure her, but the woman is now breathing raspily, her energy fading, and someone in the crowd shouts, “Blood!”

I feel a chill run through my body as I see blood trickling from her head onto the floor tiles. Oh dear.

***

I can’t count how many times I’ve asked her to calm down. She’s too adorable when she’s angry. Her cheeks are flushed, lower lip protruding, brows furrowed, and she’s chewing on her nails as she paces back and forth in the police cell.

We were arrested, despite explaining that I was assaulted and Renee acted in self-defense. I’m not exactly a popular figure, unlike the rest of my family, so here we are, stuck together behind bars.

It’s nearly 9 PM when I’m finally allowed to call Anna.

“I knew she was trouble!” she yells the second I explain the situation.

“She was only trying to defend me,” I reply with a sigh. “Are you coming or not?” I shift the topic.

“Hold on... is this some method you’re using to skip the family dinner, huh?”

“I don’t have time for this. It’s the police station near Starbucks. I’ll see you soon, or better yet, send someone.” I grit my teeth, trying to keep my tone calm yet assertive. I end the call before she can respond and immediately regret reaching out to her instead of someone else.

Renee finally sits on the chair adjacent to the small cot meant for us.

“I’m sorry... really,” she mutters under her breath.

I slowly remove my suit jacket, watching as her eyes follow my arms. An odd warmth spreads through my chest. She’s beautiful, no denying it, and those captivating eyes make it hard to focus.

“It’s okay. I’ll deal with this when we get out,” I assure her, settling onto the cot, loosening my tie and adjusting my waistcoat. “Thank you,” I add after a few moments of silence.

“For what?”

“What you did back there. I’ve never really had anyone stand up for me before.”

She chuckles lightly. “It’s nothing. You have bodyguards, remember? They protect you and all.”

“They do that because it’s their job. What you did felt genuine.” I smile. “Was it really... genuine?”

“Absolutely. You stood up for me before, and that meant a lot. Thank you.” Her smile brightens the dim space.

I find myself staring at her lips, wondering how they would feel against mine—how she would taste. The thought is intoxicating, and I suddenly feel like a pervert. She makes me feel that way with her impeccably beautiful face.

“You’re welcome,” I grin back, letting my gaze drift to a bruise on her knuckles.

I rush toward her, squatting in front of her to examine her injured hands. “What happened here?” I ask, urgency creeping into my voice.

She looks deeply into my eyes for a moment, then blinks rapidly. “It’s nothing... just stuff from the fight.”

“We’ll get you some medicine as soon as we get out, okay?”

“Yes...” she responds, her gaze still locked on mine. My heart races as my eyes drift back to her plump, slightly parted lips, as if inviting me to lean in.

It feels as though she’s thinking the same thing. She shifts in her chair, inching closer, searching my gaze for confirmation.

My eyes betray me, and slowly, we close the distance between us. The fact that I shouldn’t do this is pushed to the back of my mind; I need this moment. Our lips brush against each other, breaths intertwining, just as the cell door swings open.

“You can go.”