I spotted the outfits on the bed, carefully laid out, a testament to Clyde's thoughtfulness. He knew my style, my size, and my preferences. I chose a sleek, black dress with intricate lace details, slipped it on, and felt transformed.
The fabric hugged my curves, accentuating my figure. I twirled, admiring the way the dress moved with me. The mirror reflected elegance, sophistication, and a hint of playfulness.
Clyde entered, his eyes locking onto mine, a smile spreading across his face.
"Stunning," he said, his voice low and husky. "Perfect fit."
I frowned, my mind still on the hickey.
"About this," I said, touching the mark on my neck.
Clyde snorted, amusement dancing in his eyes.
"I did that to remind you," he said, his voice laced with possessiveness.
"Of last night," he added, his gaze burning with intensity.
Of his touch.
Of his kiss.
Of the way he held me close.
My cheeks flushed, a mix of emotions swirling inside me.
"I didn't ask for reminders," I said, trying to sound stern.
Clyde chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief.
"Didn't need your permission," he whispered, his voice sending shivers down my spine.
His words hung in the air, heavy with implication.
"I need to ask you something," I said, my voice firm, determined to get answers.
Clyde's gaze met mine, curious, but with a hint of wariness.
"Why did you treat Ani badly?" I pressed, my eyes locked on his.
Clyde's expression turned impassive, shutting down the conversation.
He ignored my question, his jaw clenched.
I felt frustration rising.
"Talk to me, Clyde," I urged.
But he remained silent.
Instead, he offered his arm.
"Let's go," he said.
I hesitated, unsatisfied.
But took his arm.
We walked to his office, the tension between us palpable.
Clyde gathered papers, his movements efficient.
"Time to take you home," he said.
I nodded.
Silence filled the car.
Tension lingered.
Suddenly, Clyde turned.
Into my favorite restaurant's parking lot.
"Food," he said, a hint of a smile.
My stomach growled.
Surprised.
"You remembered," I said.
Clyde smiled.
"Always," he replied.
We ordered.
Ate.
Laughter returned.
For a moment.
Ani's memory lingered.
Unresolved.
Clyde's thoughtfulness.
Contrasted.
With his harsh treatment.
Of Ani.
Questions swirled.
In my mind.
We savored our meal, enjoying the warm ambiance of the restaurant. But as I took another bite of my sandwich, I felt a subtle trickle of mustard on my lip. Before I could reach for a napkin, Clyde's eyes crinkled at the corners, and he leaned in.
Gently, he wiped the errant stain with his thumb, his touch sending shivers down my spine. The intimacy of the gesture took my breath away. And then, without warning, his lips brushed against mine in a soft, tender kiss.
My pulse began racing, my heart skipping a beat. The world around us melted away, leaving only the two of us, lost in this moment.
But reality intruded, and I suddenly remembered.
Ani.
His wife.
The guilt and shame washed over me like a cold shower.
"Clyde, no," I whispered, pulling away.
Reminding him.
Of his vows.
Of his commitment.
Clyde's eyes darkened, his expression unreadable.
I swiftly stood up, smoothing my dress to compose myself.
"Clyde, I think we should go," I said firmly.
The drive home was oppressive, silence thick and uncomfortable between us. Clyde's profile remained set, unyielding.
My thoughts swirled in turmoil, emotions conflicted.
Why did he kiss me?
Why did I respond?
What about Ani?
The questions haunted me.