Married to my Ex-wife's boss

Chapter Twenty-Eight

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

David sat with his chin in his right palm, his pajamas loose around the wrist but firm at the elbow area.

His eyes reflected the red in blood, puffy like buns and dark as clay. His head ached; the position helped reduce that ache.

Sunrise met him in the same position, motionless, staring into space.

Life had happened to him.

Thankfully Roseline and he had not yet taken their marriage seriously. They were at liberty to be wherever they wanted. He had not complained although he was surprised.

It didn't show the love he thought Roseline had for him. She had always been all over him. But now, she seemed very distant.

She barely met his eyes nor looked lovingly at his direction. The looks she gave him were usually looks of calculation and sometimes, regret.

They had not even had sex yet. The closest they had been to sex, was the evening Sandra's madness had reached its peak; the evening she appeared naked as a hairless cat and Roseline had to go naked to send her away.

But things had swiftly turned formal after Sandra had bowed the bow of shame. Roseline went into customer care mode. She had calls to place, speaking about weddings and this and that.

Even then, she seemed a little bit unhappy with the proposition, as if that had not been what she had wanted all the while.

He had taken it very casually, blaming himself for not understanding properly, for expecting her to show happiness just as everyone did.

And at the time, her smile did not hold something mysterious or better put, something mysterious that he recognized.

But now he thought otherwise. She wasn't that much into him. He could tell. How would a newly wedded couple stay away from each other for days turned into weeks?

Not even anyone, someone as sexually active as Roseline. It was strange and nearly impossible.

Still, he wasn't allowed to think too deeply about it. If it turned out Roseline never liked him, it was for the better.

It would make the task easier. There would be no need to tread carefully. She would just be cut off without any emotions from both ends.

He sighed, paused and hissed. While would the president—. He sighed again, remembering the golden rule.

But it was hard to maintain it. Imagine having to kill a wife without reason? However, he pushed the worry to the back of his mind, rejoicing partially in the small closure the ponder had brought on him.

Thinking the problem solved, he tried to now understand what the nagging feeling in his chest still meant.

Hadn't he tackled all the problems? He felt his brain shift.

What could it be? The thoughts tumbled against each other.

Then, a silent “oh” passed through his lips. He remembered yet another pressing topic to ponder on.

The headache increased as he pictured Roseline's face and tried to remember, word for word, what she had said concerning his ex.

How could Sandra place a bomb in a car? The rhetoric hung on his collarbone. Why would she ever do such a thing? It didn't sound real. It was weird.

What was she ever going to gain from doing such?

He had lived with Sandra all this while and he could tell there was never a shady deal aside from her many rude tantrums and her troubling involvement with his parents.

There really was nothing to be pinned on her, certainly nothing related to a bomb. How could she ever have access to that?

In fact, how could she do anything shady? The only shady person he knew was himself. He was the only person with a double identity who watched as people wept when their loved ones disappeared without remorse.

He was strong and bright enough to pull any tactic she might have tried to use.

He trusted his sixth sense enough to read her going out and coming in. He literally would've known about all these things.

There was no way her capabilities had skipped his mind. He had searched her through and through.

Or had he truly been thorough? He changed his position, allowing his chin to now rest on his left palm even though the pain in his head tripled.

Could it be that he had been blinded by love? A whole he, a trained agent, blind to atrocities or potential atrocious behavior?

Because of what? Something as paltry and demeaning as love?

He shook his head, deciding against it. Yes, it was true that he had been stupid in love. But blinded? He wasn't sure about that.

It was not technically possible for Sandra to pull it off, right beneath his presence.

If it was something that had to do with her throwing undeserving insults at people, he would've understood.

But bombing? It was obviously far-fetched. The only bomb Sandra could throw was one from her lips.

He coughed. It hung in his throat. He coughed again. His thoughts shifted.

It was time for his morning ritual. Water was needed to begin the day. It always had.

He looked at the mini refrigerator in his room and then looked the other way. He would need to equally drink an apple juice.

The thought took him to the kitchen, his stomach rumbling to back up the point

The refrigerator did not disappoint.

Maybe he should make breakfast? He pursed his lips, eyeing the juicy proteins in there.

He made his choice after a few seconds of staring into space

He pulled out the juice, gulped hungrily and then let out a sigh of relief when it landed successfully in his belly.

He then walked into the sitting room.

The doorbell rang. He got distracted, almost too alarmed to move. But he moved, apple juice in hand, pyjamas fitted manly on his body, to the door.

He looked into the peephole and smiled warmly. His eyes brightened. It was a pleasure. He opened the door; everywhere went dark.