Quest For Acceptance

Driver

Chapter 5

“And what the hell are you discussing with her?” Sandra exclaimed, her finger pointed accusingly at Alexa as soon as he approached her. Alexa sighed and disdainfully rolled her eyes before turning and heading towards her car.

“Did you see the insult you brought upon me? She only had the audacity to do that to me because you gave her an audience. You didn’t even have the decency to respect me as your wife!” Sandra’s voice grew louder as she yelled.

“Are you jealous right now?” Salvador questioned, his words slipping out before he could fully process them. Sandra, taken aback by the unexpected comment, burst into laughter.

“You must think you’re some sort of king? Jealous? Of whom? You?” she chuckled, her voice laced with sarcasm. “You two are seemingly more compatible, but you should at least show some respect for me whenever we go out,” she retorted.

“But please remember, I am not here as your husband, I am here solely as your driver,” Salvador replied, his tone neutral as he emphasized the clear boundary between their roles.

“Are you trying to mock me?” Sandra asks him.

“Do you think this is funny?” She asks and he simply scoffed.

“I think it’s time I find someone else for this job, you’re dismissed!” She says and walks to where he packed her car.

Salvador glanced at his reflection, shaking his head in frustration. Deep down, he knew that what had just unfolded was not entirely his fault. Nevertheless, he felt compelled to chase after Sandra, knowing that he had no other option.

“I’m sorry,” Salvador said, his voice tinged with regret. Sandra scoffed loudly in response, her disbelief evident.

“You’re sorry for what?” she yelled, her anger evident.

“I apologize for provoking your anger. I promise, I won’t let it happen again,” Salvador replied, his voice laced with sincere determination.

Sandra’s voice brimmed with urgency as she stretched out her hand, demanding, “Come on, give it to me”

“Give what to you?”

“My car key!” she snapped.

Salvador shook his head in response, his expression firm and resolute. “I can’t give it to you,” he replied calmly.

Growing increasingly frustrated, Sandra’s tone escalated into a fiery yell. “Did you think I am joking here? Give me the car key!” Her voice echoed through the room.

Salvador remained composed, his voice steady and unwavering. “I can’t give you the car key, Sandra. Remember, you don’t know how to drive. Let me take you home, and we can sort this out once we get there.” His words carried a sense of assurance, as if offering a compromise to defuse the tension.

Sandra’s defiance reverberated in her words as she firmly declared, “I don’t need your help! You’re dismissed. You don’t get to decide what I do.” She continued walking away, her determination fueling each step.

Salvador, unwilling to let the situation escalate any further, called out desperately, “Sandra, wait!” The urgency in his voice was palpable as he hurriedly pursued her.

Brimming with anger, Sandra shot back, her words laced with resentment, “Why are you following me?” She questioned vehemently, her frustration evident in the furrow of her brow.

Salvador, his eyes filled with concern, replied with a sense of genuine worry, “Because I can’t let you leave when you’re angry. If something were to happen to you, it wouldn’t be a pleasant outcome.” A hint of pleading tinged his voice, silently imploring her to reconsider their current course of action.

Sandra’s voice held a hint of desperation as she clarified her intentions, emphasizing, “I just need to go home. I’m not saying you should take me anywhere. I just want to go home!” Her words seemed to carry a plea for understanding.

Salvador maintained a resolute stance, his concern, and protective nature driving his response. “I can’t let you leave, Sandra. You’re not in your right state of mind, you’re too angry to drive,” he explained, his voice tinged with a mix of worry and determination.

An air of defiance enveloped Sandra’s next question as she challenged Salvador, her voice tinged with a touch of indifference, “Do you think I care?”

In response, Salvador merely sighed, the sound carrying a sense of resignation. Uncertain of how to proceed, his concern for her well-being evident, he finally asked, “What do you want me to do?”

Without hesitation, Sandra’s reply was direct, her words laced with a slight edge, “Give me my car key.”

Regret tinged Salvador’s response, his voice heavy with sadness, “I’m sorry, Sandra, but I won’t give it to you.”

Sandra’s face contorted with a mix of bewilderment and frustration as she questioned Salvador’s refusal. “Why won’t you?” Her voice carried a sense of confusion, her brows furrowing with uncertainty.

Salvador, determined to explain his reasoning, met her gaze with a soft yet resolute expression. “You are angry,” he began, his voice calm but filled with concern. “I don’t think you’re thinking straight. There’s a risk that you might, unintentionally, drive your car into a tree or something.” He spoke with genuine worry, his words meant to convey his genuine concern for her safety.

Sandra’s voice rose in an explosive outburst, her disbelief etched across her face. “What did you just say?” Her words hung heavy with accusation. “You mean your prayer for me was to drive the car into a tree?” Her anger emanated through her yelling, challenging Salvador’s intentions.

In an attempt to soothe the mounting tension, Salvador instinctively moved closer, his arms encircling Sandra from behind in a calming embrace. The warmth of his touch aimed to quell her anger and bring solace to the turmoil within.

“Let me drive you home, please,” Salvador’s voice cut through the chaos, his tone miraculously steady and composed despite the tempestuous situation. Though his words were calm, there was an underlying sense of urgency, pleading for her to reconsider.

Sandra angrily pushed him away, her resolve unyielding. With determined steps, she walked to the car, yanking open the door and settling into the owner’s seat. Salvador, realizing the urgency of the situation, hastily rushed to the other side, taking his place in the driver’s seat before skillfully maneuvering the car out of the compound.

“I’m sorry,” Salvador began, his voice tinged with remorse. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

Sandra, her tone filled with emotional exhaustion, maintained her silence for a moment before softly stating, “I am not going to say anything. I just want to go home.” There was a solemn atmosphere in the car, the weight of their exchange lingering heavily in the air.

Salvador continued to drive in silence, the quietude enveloping them both. Sensing the need for a small distraction, he reached over and turned on the radio, allowing a gentle melody to fill the space.

“I don’t want to listen to music,” Sandra stated firmly, her voice reflecting her desire for solitude.

Salvador, recognizing the importance of finding solace even in the simplest of ways, responded gently, “You need it, Sandra. It will help calm you down.”

“Stop the car!” Sandra yelled, her voice filled with urgency and frustration. Salvador, reacting quickly, hit the brakes, bringing the car to a sudden halt.

Bewildered, Salvador turned to Sandra, his eyebrows furrowing. “What’s the problem now?” he asked, his voice tinged with annoyance and concern.

Taking a deep breath, Sandra met his gaze, her eyes filled with determination. “I just don’t want to be in the same place with you,” she said firmly, her words weighted with unresolved tension. With a resolute gesture, she grabbed her bag and stepped out of the car.

In this impulsive act, she swiftly flagged down a passing taxi, her motions fueled by a mixture of anger and determination. Salvador, now left standing by the halted car, let out a disgruntled sigh, the sound punctuating his exasperation. He watched silently as Sandra’s taxi disappeared down the road, before reluctantly returning to the car, shoulders slumped in resignation.

Some minutes later, Salvador drove the car inside the compound, maneuvering it with care before finally parking it in the garage. Stepping out of the vehicle, he was immediately met with the sight of Mrs. Jackson, wearing a deeply disapproving and dreadful expression.

Words were exchanged in a heated confrontation as Mrs. Jackson voice dripping with anger and disappointment. “You allowed my daughter to come back with a taxi, and you have the audacity to sit in the car she purchased with her hard-earned money?” she raged. Her frustration reached its breaking point as her hand connected with Salvador’s cheek in a resounding slap.

Salvador’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening with suppressed rage. Every fiber of his being urged him to retaliate, to defend himself against this assault on both his pride and his relationship with Sandra. However, despite the tempest of emotions raging within him, he chose to remain silent, his grip on his fists growing tighter as he absorbed the blow and kept his anger under control.

“You slapped me without even asking for the reason she came back without me?” Salvador questioned, his voice tinged with disbelief and a hint of hurt.

Mrs. Jackson, her anger unabated, responded with venomous words. “You’re nothing but a colossal fool for daring to speak back to me! Who do you even think you are?” Her tone laced with disdain, she raised her hand once more, preparing to strike Salvador again, her actions fueled by uncontrolled rage.

“Mother, that’s enough,” Sandra intervened, her voice filled with urgency and concern. “You don’t want to disfigure his face. Tomorrow is my birthday, and I don’t want any scars on his body.”

Salvador, his fists still clenched tightly, mustered the courage to speak up. “I have something to say,” he proclaimed, his voice steady despite the tension lingering in the air.

Mrs. Jackson, her anger momentarily halted by this unexpected turn, yelled impatiently. “And what do you want to say?”

Taking a deep breath, Salvador held his ground. “I can no longer work as Sandra’s driver,” he declared, his statement echoing with finality and resolution.