What has gotten into you, Claire? Why did you have to do that? It's not like you didn't enjoy Gabriel's kisses?
Claire stomps through the dark path exiting the park, and out onto the main city avenue, her head on a spin. What she has are not simple feelings; they're hopelessly entangled, as though each thread of thought is entwined with ten more.
She yelled at Gabriel, in public, in front of everybody. In front of Miguel. Not only that, she also SLAPPED him. Take a moment to appreciate the gravity of that word, "slapped." Slapped across the face. The face of her boss, who's now standing there, wondering where she got the balls—balls, that's a funny word for a woman—to do that.
But then again, she was in a state of panic—her mouth was on fire, and everything seemed a blur. The moment she felt Gabriel's mouth was on hers, she acted on reflex—and everything else was a follow-up meant to justify the slap.
