He glared at me. The kind of look one gives someone when they have been caught revealing a secret they don’t want anyone to know. I was embarrassed I was caught invading his dream. But I was also curious, very curious who the person he has mentioned while he was dreaming. I looked at him with the same questioning look he had on his face. “What were you doing, Isabeau?” he asked sounding very annoyed. I tried to assess his state of mind. For all I know, he could be one of those people who are violent when roused from their slumber. I don’t know, but after all, my hide still stings from the spankings he handed me while he fucked me. “You were talking in your dreams, Chris and you were calling out a name.” was my reply to his question. I did not mention the name Cassandra. I was trying to gauge if he will volunteer to tell me her name and who she was. To my surprise, he simply shook his head and sat up and he made a move as if he was trying to plan an exit from my bedroom. His eyes darted around as if he was assessing where his clothes were for a quick get away. I was getting upset. I felt he owed me some type of explanation and I have completely forgotten that it was me who was traipsing on his privacy. However, he is in my abode, my personal residence and I believe we just made passionate love earlier. We have covered the area of restrictions as what both of us are willing never to cross. If he was married or is in a current relationship, I do not need to be lied to or fooled into jumping in the sack with him. I felt the heat rise up to my cheeks. I was getting angrier by his actions. I sat up and looked him straight in the eyes and I was about to speak when he beat me to it. “Isabeau, I think it is best for me to go now.” He said, nonchalantly. He wasn’t going to address the name he called out in his sleep, nor was he going to offer up any explanation for his sudden rush to make a quick exit. I was flabbergasted. I couldn’t hold it in anymore and I narrowed my eyes at him. “Chris, is this it? You are just going to fuck me, spank me and just get up and leave because I caught you calling out someone’s name in your sleep?” I said with an equally irritated stance as he had. His mouth fell open and he narrowed his eyes just as I did.
“You said we were two adults just getting it on, what is going on in your mind now?” He quipped. It was my turn to have my mouth fall open in shock to the brusqueness of his tone. Now I am really beginning to feel the sting of our one night stand. I couldn’t believe it! He has more calculating coldness in his self than Henry has ever shown me. I felt my eyes glossing over on the verge of tears about to spill out of them. I tried to calm myself by not saying anything and lowered my gaze. I was not ready to let him see me cry and for what, because I felt used for sex? However, the silent rage inside me was building up like I did not anticipate and the thought of his dead half brother giving me the same cold treatment after he has had his way with me was too much to contain. I felt my heartbeat race as if I wanted to reach out for something sharp to hit him with, or rather, stab him with, like a knife or something. This whole thing is just getting to me. The whole passionate evening seems to be evaporating to some nuclear meltdown on my end. I managed to speak underneath my breath. “There is nothing going on that you think you need to rush clear out of here.” I half mumbled, trying not to sound like I was admonishing him. And suddenly, just like that, he seemed to have been hit by a brick and he rushed towards me. It was startling that I pushed clear back from his grasp towards my bed’s headboard. He was fast and was upon me. “God, you can have me addicted to you and your sex.” He said, his breath warm over my neck, while he had me pinned down under him. I tried to look at his eyes and see if he was toying with me but I couldn’t get a good view since his mouth and his warm breath quickly traveled to my breasts as he kissed my nipples. He finally looked up towards my face and he had a grin on his face. “Oh, why does he affect me this way? One moment I am getting livid with his behavior and the next, he has me breathless waiting for him to take me again and again, for his pleasure.” I silently thought to myself. “Chris, I’m confused with your behavior.” I finally uttered, sounding half decent in my conviction that I only care about his moods towards me and attempting to sound confident that if he wanted to end this situation right now, the door was just there for him to make his exit. “Confused? Dear Isabeau, I don’t get what you’re confused about?” he said, almost mockingly. Had I not hold his profession in high regard, I would have guessed that my mercurial Romeo before me was suffering from a bipolar disorder. How can anyone be completely pleasant and earlier was behaving like he was on fire within a matter of seconds. My confusion is starting to become a bewilderment I wasn’t comfortable with, at the moment. I gently pulled away from him to study his facial expression.
He was again smiling that naughty smile. I allowed him to kiss me when he made a move to get closer to my face. “Why do you find my confusion amusing, doctor? I find it disconcerting that I am confused about you and your motives.” I softly said to him, aware that any moment, he might just turn into the man who woke up next to me seemingly with a jet pack attached to his back and frantically searching for some way out of my presence. Perhaps I exaggerate a bit with the description of the person who was saying how much he misses Cassandra in his dreams, but at this moment, I wasn’t going to test the personality switches. I just want him calm and comfortable to answer my question truthfully. His lips pressed gently against mine and I wasn’t sure whether he was attempting to silence me or if he didn’t care to give me a reply. “My only motive is to pleasure you, Isabeau, as much as you give me pleasure. I actually am considering on making our tryst a regular thing, if you know what I mean.” He said finally, as he tenderly caressed my cheek as he pulled away to address my question. “I don’t know what you mean about making this a regular thing since I am not quite sure whether you even like me or not, judging from your earlier outburst.” I said to him in response. He arched his eyebrows as if he wasn’t quite sure what I was talking about. “Please don’t look at me like you have no idea what I was referring to, the anger and the irritation earlier, the “I think it’s best I get going now” tantrum is what I mean.” I said to him imploringly, hoping for some glimmer of recognition of his self earlier. There weren’t any recognition of his behavior on his part. I was dismayed by the casual way he seemed to have just disregarded my discomfort. I wanted to admonish him for his apparent lack of concern for my feelings but I couldn’t say anything that would sound affable. I was getting exasperated and I truly had no intention of seeing that part of him again so I decided to stay silent. He cupped my face and kissed me sensually on both my cheeks and traveled towards my lips. I tried to shake my head off the hold he had on my face but he was a little forceful. Admittedly, I found extreme pleasure with the way he steadied my face to kiss me and once again, I just let it go and went with it, with a million questions milling through my mind. “Why does he have to have this strong effect on me, why, why, why?” was the question most pertinent on my mind as my senses went with his touch, his kiss, his scent. Right then and there, he was going to have me again. My body his, my mind elsewhere and I knew that part of my being belonged to him, even if I tried to fight the concept. This is the answer he seeks earlier when he said he wanted our tryst to be a “regular” thing between him and me.
I was enthralled by him and very disturbed at the same time. I want to say no to the things he was doing to me and my body, but my body was reacting as if it has a will of its own and that will was to succumb to his touch and his kiss. Chris started to pull the sheet lower to my thighs exposing my torso, my breasts and my hips to his hands. He looked at me intently as his hands started to wander over my bare skin. His touch was electric. I tried to subdue my breathing but it was getting ragged in anticipation. His hand went over my breasts and he started playing with my nipples, teasing them to attention. I looked at his face to see the reaction my nakedness was evoking from him and his facial expression revealed a man getting excited with what his hands were doing and feeling. His face was of a man intent on taking pleasure from my own pleasure. I finally fought no more and my mouth opened with a sigh escaping from me. It was sweet rapture as his hand went down quickly between my legs and his finger teased my pussy as he rubbed it lightly at first then eagerly as he heard moans escape from my lips. Then, in a sweet and soft motion, I felt his finger inside as his other hand pushed me gently down on the bed. I opened my eyes and saw his face directly above me, hovering over me and I looked down to see his manhood erect and stiff as he parted my legs. “Oh god, he’s going to fuck me again,” my mind screamed at me, yet it was not a screaming thought of terror but of seemingly endless excitement. Just like that, he was upon me, inside me and his sex was inside mine, moving gently, then roughly, then rhythmically. I attempted to lie still and not move as his thrusts came deeper, but my hips had a mind of its own and started gyrating to meet his movements. He buried his lips on mine as his tongue probed my mouth and intertwined with my tongue. “God, he feels so good inside me and every fiber of my being is his, at this moment.” I thought to myself, paired with the intense sensation of sheer pleasure I was feeling from Chris’ body. His breathing started to get raspier, indicative that he was about to come and like a command, my orgasm exploded like fantastical magic and in sync with his hot juice filling my womb. I shuddered in ecstasy as he made me come again and again while his groans of pleasure intensified my own. “Isabeau, god, I love fucking you.” He whispered huskily in my ear.
My thoughts, all of a sudden went to our professional relationship. Interspersed with both our satiated breathing was the thought of my reputation. What if Chris decided to kiss and tell and revealed how fast he got me in the sack in the medical community? I would be ruined. My professional life, which I was deeply proud of, would be decimated, and for what? Because I allowed my moments of weakness get the better of me? I looked at the satisfied person next to me. He was just smiling like he had just gone to heaven. He was falling asleep again. I looked at the clock and it said, “8:22” in the morning. We were both to be at work at eight and we were still playing with each other, neglecting our duties. “Isabeau, you drive me wild with desire, I am not as motivated as before with being at the surgery room, I would rather lay here beside you and ravish you.” He whispered softly in my ears. I smiled. The satisfaction with hearing those words come from him was very soothing, especially with my earlier confused state. Chris could ravish my body, satisfy me and make love to me and all my mind could think of are the status of our liaison. Do I want Chris to be in a long term affair with me? I wasn’t really sure. I find him to be everything that Henry wasn’t, with me. I turned my face towards him after he had whispered what he said in my ears and touched his face gently with the back of my hand. To my delight, he bestowed butterfly kisses on my hand. “Chris, I don’t do this often. I never sleep with my company’s clients.” I said to him, trying to sound convincing. Why I would need to sound convincing when I am telling the truth was a surprise to me. He looked at me stoically. He then propped his head with his hand, elbow to the pillow to look at me seriously. I looked up at his face. He wasn’t smiling or grinning naughtily, instead, his face was as serious as I have tried to sound when I delivered my statement to him. He kissed my lips lightly, softly, sweetly before looking me straight in the eyes and delivering the most persuasive statement I have ever heard said by a man who just had his way with a woman. “Isabeau, it matters not whether you do or not, what renders me the happiest man is that you chose me to be with you right now. Everything else falls into the past. What is here before me now, is what counts.” He said very seriously. “But, Chris, I just wanted to…” I began to say but was hushed by his lips on mine. He kissed me passionately, before saying; “I think I have fallen in love with you, stranger.” He winked at me, after he has said the words. “Stranger”, he called me. He did not call me by my name this time. He called me a stranger.
We took a shower together and once again, Chris made love to me in the process. As we were getting ready for work, he told me that I had to carpool with him since I have left my car in his office building’s garage. I never even thought of my car until he said that. It just dawned on me that I was completely at his mercy in terms of transportation to work. I smiled at the thought of being reliant to his schedule. As we were getting in his car, Mr. Dobrovski was once again looking at Chris suspiciously. It made me feel as though my Russian neighbor was my father. He was being protective and at the same time, giving me space, just like a dad would watch his daughter first take her spin on a bicycle without its training wheels. Chris acknowledged my neighbor with respect but with a certain distance, only Chris has been able to convey with aplomb. I was very impressed with the way he handles himself. Something about his sureness, his deliberateness was very appealing and very subtle. This was a man, clearly, without a shred of doubt, which can take care of his self and hold an audience just by being him. It was art. It was very “Henry” like without the pomp and circumstance air that seemed to have beleaguered Henry. Then, my thoughts went to the moment Chris told me he has fallen in love with me, a complete stranger, all in the matter of one day and a very passionate night. I wondered then, if he made a habit of falling in love with someone in a day, when he has been completely satiated sexually. How many times has he said that to a woman after he had his way with her, I wonder? And how many women has he said those words to, after a very sexually satisfying night? It can’t be the case where I was the only one who has made him satisfied, I secretly dared myself the self doubting question. As we drove along Interstate 5 towards the 405 Junction, I noticed Chris glancing at me, which pleased me but worried me, that he was not keeping his eyes on the road. It was exciting and a little nerve wracking at the same time because I noticed that Chris drives 15 miles faster than the speed limit. This behavior is very similar to Henry. They both drive faster than most people and I was always aware of how many times Henry would be at the wheels and we would always be stopped by the state patrol, radars clocking 80 to 90 miles on the speed. I giggled a little to which Chris cocked his head in query with what it was that I found amusing. “You’re a speed demon just like your brother.” I quipped before realizing I wanted to keep it to myself, and then it was too late when my words came spilling out. Chris’ back stiffened when he heard me. He did not glance at me and kept his eyes on the road, “How many times have you ran in your mind the similarities I have with Hank?” he then asked, seemingly upset with my words. I balked at replying too quickly as my mind flashbacked to the irritated way he gazed at me when he caught me spying in his dreams. The drive to his office building was tense and silent, afterwards. I felt uncomfortable.
I wasn’t going to pry him or engage him in a conversation if he was going to remain aloof throughout our drive, so I reached for my briefcase to pore over another contract I needed to close by the end of the week. That was when Chris glowered at me and asked, “Will you answer my question, Isabeau?” he sounded as if he was demanding it, instead of requesting an answer to his question. I looked at him, my mind racing on how I should properly word my response to him. Finally, I found the courage to answer honestly and said, “You have several mannerisms which I find very similar to Henry and even if I did not want to compare you to your brother, it is very, very familiar to me. I am so sorry.” Then I was mortified that I added the apology. He did not deserve an apology nor do I even have to say an apology for something that was only the truth. It sure pissed me off that my political correctness prompted me to say sorry. I was in the middle of chastising myself in my head when suddenly, I heard Chris say; “Well, this will sound juvenile and you might think I am saying this to get back at you for your statement, but you haven’t heard me say you smile like Cassandra, have you?” My mouth fell open and my eyes narrowed hearing what he said. His words were cutting and it wasn’t really a question but rather a challenge. He was looking for an argument or even a fight. I sighed exasperatedly. How can a quiet and affable drive turn into a possible verbal brawl between him and me in a matter of seconds? I then felt very annoyed with his behavior. The impressed Isabeau earlier, in the presence of Mr. Dobrovsky, disappeared. What is obviously left is a very pissed off Isabeau. I was actually angry at Chris. I found myself unrestrained and let it go. I heard my own voice admonish him for being childish and thinking that comparing him to Henry was with malicious intent on my part. I resented it. Then, as if matters of discussion can’t get any worse than it is happening in the car, my tongue seemed to have a mind of its own when I angrily snapped, “And who pray tell is this Cassandra woman you happened to have mentioned in your sleep, Chris?” my tone was accusatory, not demanding like his. To my surprise, he steered the car very close to a road divider and he slammed on the brakes abruptly. He turned the engine off and put the emergency blinkers then turned to face me. “You were spying in my sleep. I am so disappointed in you.” He scolded me. I felt my fingers go up to my lips to try and stop my words from coming out, but I was unsuccessful. “Who is Cassandra, Chris?” I shot back at him. “Cassandra is Hank’s widow!” Chris bellowed. My jaw dropped open.
“You said we were two adults just getting it on, what is going on in your mind now?” He quipped. It was my turn to have my mouth fall open in shock to the brusqueness of his tone. Now I am really beginning to feel the sting of our one night stand. I couldn’t believe it! He has more calculating coldness in his self than Henry has ever shown me. I felt my eyes glossing over on the verge of tears about to spill out of them. I tried to calm myself by not saying anything and lowered my gaze. I was not ready to let him see me cry and for what, because I felt used for sex? However, the silent rage inside me was building up like I did not anticipate and the thought of his dead half brother giving me the same cold treatment after he has had his way with me was too much to contain. I felt my heartbeat race as if I wanted to reach out for something sharp to hit him with, or rather, stab him with, like a knife or something. This whole thing is just getting to me. The whole passionate evening seems to be evaporating to some nuclear meltdown on my end. I managed to speak underneath my breath. “There is nothing going on that you think you need to rush clear out of here.” I half mumbled, trying not to sound like I was admonishing him. And suddenly, just like that, he seemed to have been hit by a brick and he rushed towards me. It was startling that I pushed clear back from his grasp towards my bed’s headboard. He was fast and was upon me. “God, you can have me addicted to you and your sex.” He said, his breath warm over my neck, while he had me pinned down under him. I tried to look at his eyes and see if he was toying with me but I couldn’t get a good view since his mouth and his warm breath quickly traveled to my breasts as he kissed my nipples. He finally looked up towards my face and he had a grin on his face. “Oh, why does he affect me this way? One moment I am getting livid with his behavior and the next, he has me breathless waiting for him to take me again and again, for his pleasure.” I silently thought to myself. “Chris, I’m confused with your behavior.” I finally uttered, sounding half decent in my conviction that I only care about his moods towards me and attempting to sound confident that if he wanted to end this situation right now, the door was just there for him to make his exit. “Confused? Dear Isabeau, I don’t get what you’re confused about?” he said, almost mockingly. Had I not hold his profession in high regard, I would have guessed that my mercurial Romeo before me was suffering from a bipolar disorder. How can anyone be completely pleasant and earlier was behaving like he was on fire within a matter of seconds. My confusion is starting to become a bewilderment I wasn’t comfortable with, at the moment. I gently pulled away from him to study his facial expression.
He was again smiling that naughty smile. I allowed him to kiss me when he made a move to get closer to my face. “Why do you find my confusion amusing, doctor? I find it disconcerting that I am confused about you and your motives.” I softly said to him, aware that any moment, he might just turn into the man who woke up next to me seemingly with a jet pack attached to his back and frantically searching for some way out of my presence. Perhaps I exaggerate a bit with the description of the person who was saying how much he misses Cassandra in his dreams, but at this moment, I wasn’t going to test the personality switches. I just want him calm and comfortable to answer my question truthfully. His lips pressed gently against mine and I wasn’t sure whether he was attempting to silence me or if he didn’t care to give me a reply. “My only motive is to pleasure you, Isabeau, as much as you give me pleasure. I actually am considering on making our tryst a regular thing, if you know what I mean.” He said finally, as he tenderly caressed my cheek as he pulled away to address my question. “I don’t know what you mean about making this a regular thing since I am not quite sure whether you even like me or not, judging from your earlier outburst.” I said to him in response. He arched his eyebrows as if he wasn’t quite sure what I was talking about. “Please don’t look at me like you have no idea what I was referring to, the anger and the irritation earlier, the “I think it’s best I get going now” tantrum is what I mean.” I said to him imploringly, hoping for some glimmer of recognition of his self earlier. There weren’t any recognition of his behavior on his part. I was dismayed by the casual way he seemed to have just disregarded my discomfort. I wanted to admonish him for his apparent lack of concern for my feelings but I couldn’t say anything that would sound affable. I was getting exasperated and I truly had no intention of seeing that part of him again so I decided to stay silent. He cupped my face and kissed me sensually on both my cheeks and traveled towards my lips. I tried to shake my head off the hold he had on my face but he was a little forceful. Admittedly, I found extreme pleasure with the way he steadied my face to kiss me and once again, I just let it go and went with it, with a million questions milling through my mind. “Why does he have to have this strong effect on me, why, why, why?” was the question most pertinent on my mind as my senses went with his touch, his kiss, his scent. Right then and there, he was going to have me again. My body his, my mind elsewhere and I knew that part of my being belonged to him, even if I tried to fight the concept. This is the answer he seeks earlier when he said he wanted our tryst to be a “regular” thing between him and me.
I was enthralled by him and very disturbed at the same time. I want to say no to the things he was doing to me and my body, but my body was reacting as if it has a will of its own and that will was to succumb to his touch and his kiss. Chris started to pull the sheet lower to my thighs exposing my torso, my breasts and my hips to his hands. He looked at me intently as his hands started to wander over my bare skin. His touch was electric. I tried to subdue my breathing but it was getting ragged in anticipation. His hand went over my breasts and he started playing with my nipples, teasing them to attention. I looked at his face to see the reaction my nakedness was evoking from him and his facial expression revealed a man getting excited with what his hands were doing and feeling. His face was of a man intent on taking pleasure from my own pleasure. I finally fought no more and my mouth opened with a sigh escaping from me. It was sweet rapture as his hand went down quickly between my legs and his finger teased my pussy as he rubbed it lightly at first then eagerly as he heard moans escape from my lips. Then, in a sweet and soft motion, I felt his finger inside as his other hand pushed me gently down on the bed. I opened my eyes and saw his face directly above me, hovering over me and I looked down to see his manhood erect and stiff as he parted my legs. “Oh god, he’s going to fuck me again,” my mind screamed at me, yet it was not a screaming thought of terror but of seemingly endless excitement. Just like that, he was upon me, inside me and his sex was inside mine, moving gently, then roughly, then rhythmically. I attempted to lie still and not move as his thrusts came deeper, but my hips had a mind of its own and started gyrating to meet his movements. He buried his lips on mine as his tongue probed my mouth and intertwined with my tongue. “God, he feels so good inside me and every fiber of my being is his, at this moment.” I thought to myself, paired with the intense sensation of sheer pleasure I was feeling from Chris’ body. His breathing started to get raspier, indicative that he was about to come and like a command, my orgasm exploded like fantastical magic and in sync with his hot juice filling my womb. I shuddered in ecstasy as he made me come again and again while his groans of pleasure intensified my own. “Isabeau, god, I love fucking you.” He whispered huskily in my ear.
My thoughts, all of a sudden went to our professional relationship. Interspersed with both our satiated breathing was the thought of my reputation. What if Chris decided to kiss and tell and revealed how fast he got me in the sack in the medical community? I would be ruined. My professional life, which I was deeply proud of, would be decimated, and for what? Because I allowed my moments of weakness get the better of me? I looked at the satisfied person next to me. He was just smiling like he had just gone to heaven. He was falling asleep again. I looked at the clock and it said, “8:22” in the morning. We were both to be at work at eight and we were still playing with each other, neglecting our duties. “Isabeau, you drive me wild with desire, I am not as motivated as before with being at the surgery room, I would rather lay here beside you and ravish you.” He whispered softly in my ears. I smiled. The satisfaction with hearing those words come from him was very soothing, especially with my earlier confused state. Chris could ravish my body, satisfy me and make love to me and all my mind could think of are the status of our liaison. Do I want Chris to be in a long term affair with me? I wasn’t really sure. I find him to be everything that Henry wasn’t, with me. I turned my face towards him after he had whispered what he said in my ears and touched his face gently with the back of my hand. To my delight, he bestowed butterfly kisses on my hand. “Chris, I don’t do this often. I never sleep with my company’s clients.” I said to him, trying to sound convincing. Why I would need to sound convincing when I am telling the truth was a surprise to me. He looked at me stoically. He then propped his head with his hand, elbow to the pillow to look at me seriously. I looked up at his face. He wasn’t smiling or grinning naughtily, instead, his face was as serious as I have tried to sound when I delivered my statement to him. He kissed my lips lightly, softly, sweetly before looking me straight in the eyes and delivering the most persuasive statement I have ever heard said by a man who just had his way with a woman. “Isabeau, it matters not whether you do or not, what renders me the happiest man is that you chose me to be with you right now. Everything else falls into the past. What is here before me now, is what counts.” He said very seriously. “But, Chris, I just wanted to…” I began to say but was hushed by his lips on mine. He kissed me passionately, before saying; “I think I have fallen in love with you, stranger.” He winked at me, after he has said the words. “Stranger”, he called me. He did not call me by my name this time. He called me a stranger.
We took a shower together and once again, Chris made love to me in the process. As we were getting ready for work, he told me that I had to carpool with him since I have left my car in his office building’s garage. I never even thought of my car until he said that. It just dawned on me that I was completely at his mercy in terms of transportation to work. I smiled at the thought of being reliant to his schedule. As we were getting in his car, Mr. Dobrovski was once again looking at Chris suspiciously. It made me feel as though my Russian neighbor was my father. He was being protective and at the same time, giving me space, just like a dad would watch his daughter first take her spin on a bicycle without its training wheels. Chris acknowledged my neighbor with respect but with a certain distance, only Chris has been able to convey with aplomb. I was very impressed with the way he handles himself. Something about his sureness, his deliberateness was very appealing and very subtle. This was a man, clearly, without a shred of doubt, which can take care of his self and hold an audience just by being him. It was art. It was very “Henry” like without the pomp and circumstance air that seemed to have beleaguered Henry. Then, my thoughts went to the moment Chris told me he has fallen in love with me, a complete stranger, all in the matter of one day and a very passionate night. I wondered then, if he made a habit of falling in love with someone in a day, when he has been completely satiated sexually. How many times has he said that to a woman after he had his way with her, I wonder? And how many women has he said those words to, after a very sexually satisfying night? It can’t be the case where I was the only one who has made him satisfied, I secretly dared myself the self doubting question. As we drove along Interstate 5 towards the 405 Junction, I noticed Chris glancing at me, which pleased me but worried me, that he was not keeping his eyes on the road. It was exciting and a little nerve wracking at the same time because I noticed that Chris drives 15 miles faster than the speed limit. This behavior is very similar to Henry. They both drive faster than most people and I was always aware of how many times Henry would be at the wheels and we would always be stopped by the state patrol, radars clocking 80 to 90 miles on the speed. I giggled a little to which Chris cocked his head in query with what it was that I found amusing. “You’re a speed demon just like your brother.” I quipped before realizing I wanted to keep it to myself, and then it was too late when my words came spilling out. Chris’ back stiffened when he heard me. He did not glance at me and kept his eyes on the road, “How many times have you ran in your mind the similarities I have with Hank?” he then asked, seemingly upset with my words. I balked at replying too quickly as my mind flashbacked to the irritated way he gazed at me when he caught me spying in his dreams. The drive to his office building was tense and silent, afterwards. I felt uncomfortable.
I wasn’t going to pry him or engage him in a conversation if he was going to remain aloof throughout our drive, so I reached for my briefcase to pore over another contract I needed to close by the end of the week. That was when Chris glowered at me and asked, “Will you answer my question, Isabeau?” he sounded as if he was demanding it, instead of requesting an answer to his question. I looked at him, my mind racing on how I should properly word my response to him. Finally, I found the courage to answer honestly and said, “You have several mannerisms which I find very similar to Henry and even if I did not want to compare you to your brother, it is very, very familiar to me. I am so sorry.” Then I was mortified that I added the apology. He did not deserve an apology nor do I even have to say an apology for something that was only the truth. It sure pissed me off that my political correctness prompted me to say sorry. I was in the middle of chastising myself in my head when suddenly, I heard Chris say; “Well, this will sound juvenile and you might think I am saying this to get back at you for your statement, but you haven’t heard me say you smile like Cassandra, have you?” My mouth fell open and my eyes narrowed hearing what he said. His words were cutting and it wasn’t really a question but rather a challenge. He was looking for an argument or even a fight. I sighed exasperatedly. How can a quiet and affable drive turn into a possible verbal brawl between him and me in a matter of seconds? I then felt very annoyed with his behavior. The impressed Isabeau earlier, in the presence of Mr. Dobrovsky, disappeared. What is obviously left is a very pissed off Isabeau. I was actually angry at Chris. I found myself unrestrained and let it go. I heard my own voice admonish him for being childish and thinking that comparing him to Henry was with malicious intent on my part. I resented it. Then, as if matters of discussion can’t get any worse than it is happening in the car, my tongue seemed to have a mind of its own when I angrily snapped, “And who pray tell is this Cassandra woman you happened to have mentioned in your sleep, Chris?” my tone was accusatory, not demanding like his. To my surprise, he steered the car very close to a road divider and he slammed on the brakes abruptly. He turned the engine off and put the emergency blinkers then turned to face me. “You were spying in my sleep. I am so disappointed in you.” He scolded me. I felt my fingers go up to my lips to try and stop my words from coming out, but I was unsuccessful. “Who is Cassandra, Chris?” I shot back at him. “Cassandra is Hank’s widow!” Chris bellowed. My jaw dropped open.