Ex husband's Plea for Forgiveness

Melinda was cold to her husband the whole night, and it wore on his already fragile state. He wanted to vent his emotions somewhere; they were becoming too heavy for him to carry for much longer.

But every time he felt like he could no longer bear it, every time he moved to do something, the memory of the past afternoon reared its head like a glowering beast ready to devour him.

Then he would grow somber, and become dispirited, and would always end up retreating back into his own room.

The place had been his bedroom not so long ago.

But as he stood there, he had the vague sense that it didn’t belong to him anymore, didn’t welcome in the way it always did in the past. The walls were painted a light of slate gray, and gave off a cool, sort of emotionless atmosphere to the room.

He had few personal belongings left here; he had brought most of them with him to Melinda’s room. In fact, this room had been rather empty for a while now. Only servants would come up regularly to clean.

Jonas sat at the edge of the bed and ran his hands down his face. Then he flung his body back on the covers, arms out, and stared at the ceiling.

The room felt cold. Was it always this cold in here? He hadn’t felt this cold since he started sharing a room with his wife.

He missed the warm, cozy feeling he would always have once he stepped in there. A faint scent of her shampoo or her lotion would always linger in the air, in the pillows she slept on. The sight of her cluttered desk always brought him comfort, despite the disarray.

He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. Emily’s parting words echoed in his mind. Jonas hesitated for a moment, then took out his phone and dialed a sequence of numbers.

"Jonas." Emily answered his call almost immediately.

"Are you free right now?"

Although his tone was still cold and a little hostile, Emily took it as a good sign. She honestly doubted he would never call her at all, but there it was.

She would be stupid if she didn’t take advantage of that opportunity. Maybe she could worm her way into his heart again.

She knew all too well how badly her presence could strain Jonas's marriage; if she played her cards right, she could widen the rift between the couple, and Yulia could land the finishing blow.

"Yes of course," she answered hurriedly, afraid that he might change his mind. Realizing she might come off as desperate, she changed her tone and tried to sound coy. "Would you like to meet up?"

"Yes." Jonas's answer was curt, and his voice terse.

He couldn’t get anything done even if he wanted to anyway. The documents were sent over from his office, but he wasn’t in the right state of mind to be dealing with business at the moment.

He was consumed by yesterday’s events, and since he could not distract himself from those horrid thoughts, he decided he might as well dive into it.

And his muddled brain inferred that in order to understand the inner workings of a woman’s mind, perhaps he needed to speak with a woman.

It was just that the woman he needed to be communicating with had shut herself off from him.

"I’m guessing you’re in a bad mood," Emily said carefully. "What do you say we go to a bar? I know somewhere that's really cozy and private. You can unwind and relax there without worrying about a thing."

gave him the name and address of the place,

was out on the hall, his feet took him straight to Melinda’s

left the villa, the tires of his black sports car screeching as he

the bar was "private," it was packed with what looked to

turned to his direction, eyeing him up and down as he strode to the bar counter. Women in various groups of three or five huddled and twittered

Tea," he ordered as soon

a woman in a short, silver strapless dress sidled next to him. "Why

Out Tonight was, in fact, a

alone was enough to make the weaker ones dizzy. It had a dangerously high alcohol

said nothing as he prepared the drink that was ordered and placed it gently

aiming at, so he motioned for

throat as it went down, but Jonas just kept throwing it back as if it were

the amount that he was drinking, the bartender worried at some point that he may not be able to pay for everything he

meeting time with Emily, but the woman still wasn’t in sight. Not

starting to feel numb against all the angst he was holding inside. He slammed his glass on the counter as he downed another

handle some more? Won't anything happen to him later on if he

alcohol—and the bartender had indeed seen many such scenes throughout his years—there were few who had

drink with you." Vaguely, Jonas saw a hand shoot out and grab his yet untouched refill of whiskey. He imagined the woman must have chucked the drink herself in the silence that

very soon he heard a choking sound, and then there was endless coughing. He finally opened his eyes wide to get a good look at the woman beside him, though he was still in an

was on

glass of water which

"Hey, here you are!"

for another glass of whiskey, and this time the latter was prompt with his refill, no longer worried. Company had come for the drunk customer, after all. Whatever happened after they left the bar counter was no

Emily leaned over the counter as she asked. "Please

were soon ushered into one of the VIP rooms. Emily gave out her order, and a platter of fruit and

floor, where a performance of some sort went on, but he didn’t give a damn. To him, they just happened to change their

was late," Emily said in a breathy voice.

a sip of the mixed wine, which was exponentially milder than the whiskey, and felt a little better after her awful coughing fit. The truth was that she had been in the bar long before Jonas showed up, but didn’t approach him

senses impeded by all the alcohol he

stop him from downing more drinks, either,

to lean closer

his

to his feet. They moved into the crowded dance floor. Jonas's ears were ringing with all the noise. His head was aching, and the room was spinning. He struggled to get his bearings, and moved

Jonas only stood there and narrowed his eyes. A crowd of dancers came between them, and in the blink of an

of the girls curled her arm

used to this kind of scenes, with

tiptoe to once again whisper in his ear. "Jonas, there are too

didn’t react to what she said. He only looked around once, and reluctantly let Emily hold on to his arm. At that, her grin only grew wider, and she looked

play some fiery beat, and the dance