Episode 4

I woke up to the enticing aroma of freshly baked bread and croissants, accompanied by my favorite brand of juice. As I slowly opened my eyes, I couldn't believe what I saw. There was a bouquet of flowers on my dressing table, and there stood my husband, entering my room with a food tray filled with various delicious meals, including eggs and bacon.

To say that I was touched would be an understatement. It was completely out of character for him, as he had never treated me this way before. I looked at him suspiciously, wondering what his intentions were, as he approached me with a wide grin and the tray in his hands.

"Rick, what are you doing?" I rubbed my eyes, trying to make sure I wasn't still dreaming or experiencing some sort of aftereffect.

"I'm serving your breakfast, honey," he said, and I was shocked. Did he just call me that? He had never used such endearing terms before—it was always Jane or woman. This sudden change in behavior puzzled me.

"Yes, I can see that, but why?" I asked, looking around the room, half-expecting something to jump out at me or reveal a hidden motive.

Since I had discovered his secret and mentioned divorce, he hadn't been himself. He had been going out of his way to please me, but I always assumed it was because of a guilty conscience. Now, receiving this princess treatment, which I had never experienced even on our wedding night, left me bewildered.

"Please don't reject it," he pleaded, going down on one knee. I had often rejected his help, waiting patiently for the day of the hearing to arrive so I could finally leave this miserable marriage behind.

"Oh, come on, Rick. Why now? Why have you suddenly decided to do this?" I asked, utterly perplexed. I got out of bed, slipping my feet into comfy flip-flops, and walked to the door, holding it wide open for him.

"Please leave," I gestured towards the door, asking him to go. I didn't want any of his patronizing treatment. He had all the time and effort in the world to show me kindness while I was still trying to please him, but he never reciprocated.

"Jane, please don't do this," he pleaded, still on his knees, but it was becoming increasingly irritating.

"I said get out, Rick!" I snapped, and he stopped in his tracks.

He picked up the food tray he had dropped, dropped his head and shoulders like a broken man, and silently made his way out of my room.

"Leave," I urged him to move faster because I had an event to prepare for.

"I swear to God, if you speak to me in that manner again..." he began, but I cut him off.

"Or what?! You'll hit me again? You'll throw a vase at me again? Just so you know, I have evidence of domestic abuse, and anything else you do to me will be documented as well. I'll make sure you rot in jail, asshole!" I spat at his face, while he just stared at me, unable to utter a word.

We locked eyes for a long, tense moment before he stormed off in anger, accidentally dropping the food tray.

"And make sure you clean that up!" I yelled after him, slamming the door shut behind me.

"That man is always trouble," I muttered to myself as I went about preparing for the event my sister had invited me to.

She knew I needed some space and time to clear my head. It was the grand opening of one of the biggest clubs in town, and her husband happened to be best friends with the owner. I was grateful for the opportunity to escape reality, even if only for a little while.

"Sheba?" I said on the phone once our call connected.

"Jane, where are you? The party just started," she whined, knowing well that I was notorious for being fashionably late.

"I'm very close to the club now, about to enter the parking lot," I replied, holding my phone in one hand and driving with the other.

"Hurry up," she insisted before our call disconnected.

I spotted a parking space and decided to park there. I took out my mirror from my purse and began fixing my hair and makeup, applying more lip gloss when I heard a knock on my car window. I turned my head and was surprised to see Henry, the man from the gym, standing there and knocking.

I rolled down the window to hear what he had to say.

"Did you come to apologize for the gym incident?" I mocked him, not taking his presence seriously, and he stared at me without flinching.

"You're parked in my space," he stated plainly, and I looked ahead, expecting to see a reserved sign but found none.

"Bullshit. I'm not in the mood for your games right now. I have a party to attend," I replied, turning off my car and putting my keys in my bag. I got out of the car, and the doors locked automatically.

"That party happens to be mine," he declared, and I laughed, thinking it was just a silly joke.

"If this is some kind of prank, please stop," I said, about to walk away from him, but then the security guard at the gate stopped me.

"Ma'am, we're so sorry for the inconvenience, but this man is the owner of the club, and we had reserved this space for him. We apologize, ma'am," he humbly explained, and I was left dumbfounded and embarrassed for assuming he was playing a trick on me or trying to get me into trouble.

"Oh, right. I'm sorry," I sneered at him as I made my way back to my car to reposition it, but he grabbed me by the arm, which I immediately pushed away.

"You don't have to do that anymore. Just know that next time, this is my spot," he said smugly before walking away. His entire presence annoyed me, and I felt an urge to punch him.

After calming down, I entered the club, which was packed with people, predominantly from the upper class. Numerous waiters approached me with various drinks and an array of food, but I wasn't hungry. I searched for my sister until I found her.

"Hey, Jane, meet Henry, the owner of this amazing club," she introduced me to Henry, who extended his hand for a handshake.

"Nice to meet you," he smiled as if we hadn't met earlier.

"Nice to meet you too," I faked a smile, playing along with whatever game he was playing.

We spent some time in the VIP lounge, and I couldn't help but notice that his wife, Bianca, was not present. Throughout the evening, Henry and I kept stealing glances at each other, each time accompanied by his annoying smirk. I was irritated by his mere presence.

"I need to use the bathroom," I informed my slightly intoxicated sister, who nodded and continued chatting with the people at the table. I was already slightly tipsy and thought rinsing my face with cool water would help.

As I entered the bathroom, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around and was startled to see Henry standing there.

"What the fuck are you doing in the ladies' room?!" I yelled, feeling a tinge of insecurity.

"Hey, I own this place, so I can do whatever I like," he responded, walking closer with an eerie smile.

He brushed his hands against my face, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

"Why do you do the things you do?" I asked, my gaze fixed on his lips, intoxicated by his presence.

"Why do you always get on my nerves?" he whispered in a husky voice before crashing his lips against mine.