Revenge to The Devil

Jonathan paused and stood in the lobby of the hotel. He stopped in the center of the spacious and bright hall, where many people were looking at us as if someone was secretly taking pictures.

"Desiree, I will take it seriously," he said.

I cared. I cared about it.

He was like a fierce eagle flying in the sky. Everyone saw him flying high and far, but no one understood how tired and lonely he was.

I stroked his strong arms, trying to soothe his wings from the cruel storm and said, "If you're tired, stop flying and find a place to rest."

The muscles in his arms relaxed as I touched them. As I was about to be thrown to the ground, he tried to hold me tighter.

He said, "I own a golden cage that will hold me for the rest of my life."

When Irene opened the door, she saw Jonathan standing in the doorway holding me in his arms.

"Desiree, how is your ankle?" She didn't even look at me when she asked me the question.

"It's alright," I was not a narrow-minded woman, but her affectionate eyesight on my husband when talking to me made me uncomfortable.

"It's okay?" Jonathan put me on the couch and said to Irene, "She is unable to walk, delaying all the work terms. What's more, it's better to find a special nurse and a wheelchair for her."

"No problem, I will do it as soon as possible," she replied.

Seeing Jonathan taking off his coat and putting it on the sofa, she asked considerately, "Would you like something to drink?"

I just wanted to say: "No, he will be back soon."

But Jonathan answered, "Well."

In that case, if I asked him to leave, it would have seemed a little disrespectful to him. In front of his admirer, I decided to be generous and said, "Well!"

"What are you looking at?" I asked.

"Checking whether it is your room," he replied.

"Yes," I said.

"Why don't you have a lamp?" Jonathan asked.

"I can't sleep with a light on," I told him. He looked at me without a word, closed the door quietly, and stopped looking.

He sat down just as Irene came out with three drinks. She put them on the table, one by one.

I had thought that I was not a fussy woman, but when I saw how she prepared a cup of black coffee for me, an aching pain waved in my heart. I picked up the coffee, the sour and bitter taste of Blue Mountain was stronger than ever.

Glancing at the coffee in front of him again, I suppressed my anger and asked calmly, "Have you changed your taste?"

"I can't fall asleep after I have had coffee," Jonathan said. He had just finished, after glancing at the milk in Irene's hands, he withdrew his that was a hand reaching out for the milk. Then he said, "Irene, put some milk in for me."

"You can drink mine," without waiting for an answer, I put the coffee in front of him and drank a mouthful from his cup.

The milk was not sweet, either. What's worse, it was hot! The heat was streaming down my throat, and it burned my eyes. I held the hot cup tightly in my fingers, and the burning pain ran through my body from my fingers.

I had never expected Jonathan to control his lust for me. I could understand if he idled away in a boisterous bar, but Irene was different from the other women in the club. She not only loved him but also knew him. From their eye contact, I knew the relationship had developed over a long period. They must have been together for a long time

I tried hard to hold down the waving flames of my body, drinking my quietly with my head down, ignoring the eye contact between the two in front of me. Suspicion was like a fog, which blocked the sunshine to my heart.