Fatty hesitated a while before deciding whether to accept Sienna's invitation. It wasn't the decision to meet her itself that puzzled him; rather, it was the place she chose that gave him pause.
Why a five-star hotel? Was she showing off the wealth of her marriage to a rich man? Understandable—women are naturally drawn to a little vanity. But then, why the luxury suite instead of a private room in the restaurant? A luxury suite carried a certain ambiguity, suggesting intimacy. Was he truly interested in that kind of intimacy with her? If he were, she wouldn't have married off to Singapore; she could have simply moved in with him long ago. But perhaps her intent wasn't intimacy; maybe she merely wanted a quiet, comfortable place to talk. And yet…if he went, would something happen? If it became a story, that would be one thing; if it turned into a scandal, that would be another. Still, not going felt harsh and unfeeling after so many years working together and so much care from her over the years.
As he wavered, Sienna called.
"Fatty, just come over. I'm already here, and I leave tomorrow. After this, we may never see each other again. I…" She choked up, then abruptly hung up.
Her sobs finally spurred him to a decision.
Fatty entered the hotel suite as night fell, a quiet, heavy atmosphere filling the air.
Dressed in a snow-white dress, Sienna opened the door, blooming into a smile as she saw him, a smile as radiant as a camellia in full bloom. For the first time, she had carefully done her makeup, with perfectly arched brows, flushed cheeks, and red lips, an allure that transformed her. At that moment, Fatty believed it—there truly are no unattractive women, only those who haven't found their beauty.
"You're…so beautiful," he murmured.
"Am I?"
"Yes, really beautiful," he replied, marveling at why she had hidden beneath the façade of a "plain Jane" all this time.
"If I had looked like this before, would you have fallen for me?" She turned in a playful twirl, showing off her slender waist.
"You've always been lovely," he said.
"Then, if I were to propose to you now, would you marry me?"
Fatty shook his head. "Come on, don't joke; it's a different matter."
"Why not? Didn't you say I was lovely? Doesn't that mean you could love me?" Sienna stepped close, her face inches from his.
"Can we not talk about this?" He sipped water, masking his awkwardness.
Sienna leaned against the bed, tears spilling. "I knew it. You never cared for me. Fine—I'll leave. Far away from you. Forever."
Seeing her tears, Fatty felt a pang of worry, mixed with sorrow. "Why must you go? Don't you have family here? Can you really leave them?"
"Do you think I want to leave? Do you think I want to marry some old man far away? I was forced! Forced—by you! Why can't you accept me? I've loved you in silence for so many years. I thought, now that your wife is gone, my unrequited love could finally find its place. But you…you still don't want me. Why? What's wrong with me? I'm a department head. I have looks, education, status. What about me is inferior to your late wife?"
Sienna's questions struck him like a volley of arrows, and he looked down, ashamed, as if caught in wrongdoing.
"Tell me! What's wrong with me? You'd rather let me marry an old man, send me off to drift in a foreign land?" she cried, pummeling his chest with clenched fists, making his flesh jiggle with each impact. Fatty grabbed her hands gently, saying softly, "Don't…please don't. I'm sorry, truly. I regret it. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"A single apology, a moment of regret—is that all? Don't you understand my happiness rests in your hands? You still have time; accept me now. I can give back that ring to the old man, abandon any dreams of becoming some rich man's wife. All I want is to be with you. I've dreamed of marrying you, serving you loyally all my life." She collapsed into his arms, weeping, her tears like raindrops on blossoms. Fatty took out a tissue, carefully wiping her tears.
She held his hand tightly, her eyes filled with longing. "Fatty, do you remember our first meeting?"
He shook his head, then quickly nodded. "Of course, I remember."
Unnoticing his shift, she sank into her memories. "That winter was bitterly cold. I reported to work, and you were assigned to greet me. You had a bad cold, your voice nasal. It made me want to laugh. In the reception room, you poured me tea and sneezed—a huge sneeze that sprayed me. You flustered around for a tissue, apologizing just like now, with the same kindness, warmth, and gentleness. That was the moment I fell for you. I knew then I'd never love another man. I was yours, body and soul, waiting for you. Every night, I'd dream of being with you."
As she spoke, Sienna's breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling. She stopped speaking and clung to him tightly, kissing him fervently, her lips finding his cheeks in fervent, scattered pecks.
"Take me, Fatty. Let me be yours," she whispered urgently, tugging at his clothes. Fatty's long-suppressed desires began to rise, a heat spreading through his body, his thoughts flashing to past intimacies. He lifted her, setting her on the bed.
"Come to me, Fatty. Come to me," she murmured with fervor, her tone infused with longing, casting a surreal spell over him. How could this woman, so normally restrained and austere, transform into someone so wild?
Sienna writhed, whispering, "Take me. You've haunted my dreams; let me haunt yours." He gave in, no longer able to resist, and reached for her.
But just as he was about to give in fully, Sienna's voice, trembling with longing, echoed in his mind. "Take me, Fatty. Let me finally be a real woman. I don't want to be a virgin—no longer."
With those words, a sudden chill ran down his spine, snapping him back to reality. Startled, he climbed off the bed, hurriedly dressing. And before he knew it, he was out of the hotel, disappearing into the night.