Moving On

I barely had time to wrap myself in a bath towel as my husband, Jason Hewitt, opened the door abruptly.

In walked a woman whose name tag read 'Sylvie Channing'. Teary-eyed, she entered the room with a distraught expression.

That name rang a bell. She was Jason's ex-girlfriend.

The air-conditioning was set to a low temperature. I did my best to cover up, but I could still feel the freezing air on my exposed shoulders and thighs.

Sylvie stared at me for a while and then curled her lips.

I was Jason's legal wife, yet Sylvie's gaze seemed to condemn me.

Jason then decided to smoke.

Sylvie and I coughed at the same time.

Jason continued smoking as he placed his hands on my shoulder. "My wife would like to rest. I'm inclined to say that the hotel service is rather poor. Is it the manager's job to cry all day while expecting the hotel's guests to tidy up the room after themselves?"

That was the first time I had ever heard Jason speak so harshly.

"Darling," I tried to persuade him, "Just let it go..."

He ignored me.

Sylvie began to cry even harder. "You're asking me to clean up after the two of you made love! How heartbroken do you want me to be before you're finally satisfied?"

I felt some pain in my shoulder as Jason's grip tightened.

I struggled slightly, but he did not let go. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on Sylvie.

Sylvie's tears began to stream down her face. "I have to hand it to you. Your plan worked. I was agonized when I found out that you and your wife were checking in.

"I knew exactly what the two of you were up to when you called me in the middle of the night, but I still climbed ten flights of stairs and walked through the dark corridor when you called me in the middle of the night. You did all that knowing that I'm afraid of the dark.

"Now I have to suffer this humiliation after arriving. Did you have to take away my right to love you from afar now that you've married?"

Such irony. A tearful confession can hardly be considered loving 'from afar'.

I stared at Jason. All I cared about was how he would react when he heard his ex's heartfelt confession.

Jason lowered his eyes and slowly combed my long hair with his fingertips. He then said, "You're reading too much into this, Sylvie. Had I known that you were the manager of this hotel, it would be the last place I would come for my… honeymoon."

He emphasized the word 'honeymoon'.

I wondered if he was genuinely oblivious to Sylvie's presence. Some minutes ago, the receptionist at the front desk said that she was busy and asked if he could wait a while. The ever-gentle and reasonable Jason, however, insisted that the hotel manager come over at once.

As if to prove to Sylvie that he would never have chosen that hotel, Jason grabbed me and said, "Let's go, darling. We're checking out."

My body, especially my knees, was sore. I nearly fell over after he held my hand and frantically grasped the bath towel covering me.

Jason snickered. "My wife nearly fell over due to the hazards in the hotel room."

"Please stop that, Jason." I looked at him pleadingly.

"Fine," Sylvie remarked immediately. Her sobs had all but stopped me from saying anything further. "I'll clean everything up."

Sylvie walked forward and trampled on the wedding dress that I had chucked on the carpet right before Jason and I were in the throes of passion. She cried profusely as she walked.

All of a sudden, she approached the bedside table.

I froze for a moment as I watched her pick up my wedding ring.

"You promised that I'd get a wedding ring with a pink diamond when we get married. You've now bought the ring and put it on another woman."

Sylvie's words had shattered my fantasy about Jason.

I looked at Jason and hoped that he would say something, but all he did was purse his lips.

Sylvie threw my ring away in anger, then picked up the kettle beside her and screamed, "You should've taken it up with me if you hate me. But giving another woman what you once promised me is something that I will never accept!"

Sylvie threw the kettle in my direction.

I tried dodging it, only to be burnt by Jason's cigarette. The kettle brushed past my shoulder, and the entire pot of hot water splashed all over me.

I groaned in pain, "Jason! It hurts!"

Sylvie turned around and ran out of the room.

Jason merely glanced at me before chasing after her.