Sharmaine boarded Denzel's car as they rode home. Not one word escaped her mouth as she remembered every single thing that happened a while ago.
— A while before . . .
"We'll lead the enemy using her jealousy," Denzel spoke, pride and confidence covering his tone. If he simply wanted an actress, then Sharmaine would be the best candidate.
"Jealousy, eh? How can you say that?"
Denzel sighed. He did not plan to say it to her even though she kept nagging like an old woman. It was far too embarrassing to talk about, and it crushed his masochistic deeds.
"Come on, you could just say you had s*x with her or something," she said without thinking.
"I will not sleep with a shameless woman."
Sharmaine formed this annoying face in front of him as she gave a teasing laugh. "Shameless eh?"
He looked at her with disgust. It was a sight he would not rather see. "Just mind your own business and we'll take this matter home."
"And seriously," he added.
— Present . . .
The car stopped in front of the house. She nervously took a step out, carrying Denzel's items while he entered the password; the door opened smoothly without trouble. Sharmaine, being tired as she was, launched herself on the couch, ignoring the fact that they still have to talk about the party agendas.
"The couch is so soft~" she said as she could almost sleep at the comfy pillows. Denzel slapped Sharmaine's back, making her cry in pain.
"Get your ass out of there or you will sleep out of this house."
"Geez, what a pushover," Sharmaine grunted, pulling herself up while scratching her back. "You should be a little gentle to a wom—" she bit her tongue and cried more.
She had almost exposed herself. If being drowsy could get her to spit out stuff, she might as well avoid being drunk all together. Standing up proved to be more difficult because of her weariness, but she pushed through it, luckily, or else she might've spent the night with worms, grasshoppers and crickets.
She undressed herself in her own room, which she moved into a few days ago. It was nice, reasonably spacious and very comfy. The bed could almost be a cloud and the colors—which were a mix of brown, white and black—promised peace whenever she looked at it.
She went out of her room wearing pajamas and a big oversized t-shirt to cover her slim figure and the texture of her bandages. Obviously, she couldn't take them off, well not now.
"Are you ready?" Denzel asked as he leaned on the door.
"Yeah, I'm ready!"
It sounded like she was going to do something naughty with him, she thought as their exchange of words felt weird and inappropriate. She felt her cheeks burn slightly as she entered his room. Calming her thoughts down was way easier than calming her heart down; it was thrumming like crazy.
"About Shaine Davis," Denzel held up a glamorous black card with floral designs, "She wants to marry me."