My Perfect Marriage

Chapter 18

"Why are you changing? Where are you headed?" Sophia bites her lip to suppress the reaction to the sting of his constant cold dismissals and puts on her 'I don't care' facade. She mentally convinces herself that his bruises are insignificant and she shouldn't keep pestering him about it.

"I have a lunch date. I'll be back by two. Anything else can wait until then."

"With whom? All company meetings go through me," Sophia responds in surprise, her eyes widening as she tries to mentally figure out who he could be meeting, especially without her knowledge. The sight of his injuries has thrown her off her usual stoic demeanor.

"I never said it was a company meeting." He signs her form and hands it back to her swiftly with a push, never once making eye contact, and goes back to adjusting his shirt before buttoning it up, leaving the top two buttons undone. His half-buttoned shirt irks her. She knows his return to getting ready and acting as if she's not there is a signal for her to leave, but something inside her keeps her rooted to the spot.

"No tie? That's not like you." Her voice trembles so subtly that she berates herself for showing weakness. Leon doesn't respond. He walks over to a large gift bag on his chair and pulls out a leather jacket she's never seen before. He shakes it out, admires it for a moment before ripping off the tag, and starts putting it on.

"It's a casual lunch. If we're done, can you..." He gestures towards his door with a flick of his hand, and Sophia is at a loss for words. Watching him put on that jacket sends her insides into a tumultuous mess, as it's neither his style nor something she has ever known him to purchase. And when did he buy it? He doesn't shop for clothes online, and it's been months since he last took a day off to do anything like that. He always accepts the clothes she buys for him as she knows his taste and finds the time to shop for him every few weeks.

"This is new, right?" She inspects the jacket more closely, confirming that she has indeed never seen this jacket before. Sophia steps forward, forcing a smile, and adjusts his collar as if it's twisted and she's being helpful, but it's just an excuse to prolong the conversation.

"Hmmm" He pulls the fabric out of her hands, shrugging her off as if he can't stand her proximity, and adjusts it himself, stepping away from her. The barrier is going up, and his signals are screaming that he wants space.

"When did you pick it up?" Sophia eyes the branded bag, not recognizing it at all, but the quality seems high-end and not high street. "It's not a brand you usually shop for."

"It was a gift. Nothing wrong with trying something different for a change." He turns and gives Sophia a brief, odd look. A peculiar glance as if he's trying to communicate something but not committing to look at her, then walks off. He leaves her there as he returns to his office without a backward glance.

Sophia's heart flips over, that unsettling gut feeling from the night he took out his sports car hits her again, and she finds herself impulsively leaning out to look inside the bag for any kind of card or note and finds nothing. The bag is empty except for some tissue paper, yet the faint scent of a familiar perfume lingers around it.

Sophia freezes, her hand on the edge of the thick paper bag, her stomach churning as she stands there in a daze for a moment. It's the perfume she wears, and she remembers where she smelled it before. It's a sensation like a punch to the gut and a splash of ice-cold water to the face simultaneously as her mind connects the dots and comes up with a complicated conclusion.

Her hand trembles, and she straightens up, her legs suddenly weak. She argues with her flawed logic that she's overreacting and being overly suspicious, but she can't quell the growing nausea within her. She turns and follows him into the brightly lit room, and he's already at his desk, arranging things so he can leave.

"Who gifted something so expensive? Something so unlike you? A client? A friend? Why am I only just hearing about this?" Sophia sounds exactly like one of those overly possessive jealous wives in movies and despises herself for letting this c***k in her facade show. She suppresses the rising nausea and hysteria.

"Don't ask me about my personal life, and I won't ask you about yours. What is this now, Sophia?" he doesn't look at her, only picks up his cell phone and car keys and slides them into his pocket before straightening up. It only pushes her further into madness as she spirals uncontrollably, her entire mental state in turmoil.

"A woman? It smells like perfume... my perfume," Sophia accuses, breathless. "It sat in our wardrobe the last few days; it probably smells of your perfume. That's where you put it on. Don't do this." He dodges her again, his tone unconvincing, and Sophia has the urge to run over and shake him. A violent hurt surges up from her toes, and she wants to scream the words out at him to answer the damn question.

"You're saying it's not from a woman?" Sophia states through gritted teeth to keep her cool, panic gripping her heart.

"I'm leaving. Please don't start this. We don't have that kind of relationship, and I'm not in the mood to be interrogated." Leon doesn't give Sophia another second of his time. He hastily closes his laptop and strides out of the room, leaving the door to swing shut behind him, and yet, like a sad, pathetic, desperate lover, Sophia follows him. She clenches her fists and tries to calm her erratic breathing.

"You can't leave. We have a crisis meeting to call. We have issues with the distribution chain for the flex company." Sophia is grasping at straws, deep down knowing she doesn't want him to go to wherever he's going and whoever gave him that jacket. It's intuition, a heart begging another heart not to betray them.

"You handle it. You always do just fine without me. You always will." His tone is strange, devoid of emotion, and Sophia finally gets another look thrown back her way. Only it's a wary and dark expression that she can't read, and she feels like he's giving her subtle messages.

Sophia wants to scream at him, run after him, and cling to him, but she's aware of the receptionist to her left and how quickly rumors would spread if she behaved in any kind of irrational manner. She takes a deep breath and puts on a blank expression, steadying her inward trembles and pulling a carefree attitude from god knows where. Reverting to the cold and bland Sophia that she knows Leon despises the most.

"I'll see you at two pm then," Sophia calls after him, and Leon doesn't acknowledge her at all. He just walks away.

Sophia waits until he's out of sight and turns and stalks back into his office, making a beeline for the dressing room. She yanks the bag out of the chair and tips it upside down, so all the tissue paper falls out, and she shakes it ruthlessly to dislodge anything inside, finding nothing at all.

The smell of her perfume is ingrained into it as though it's been held by someone wearing it, or maybe he's right, and she didn't see it in their walk-in closet, and it absorbed her perfume from the air. She turns it back over and flips it, so the brand name faces her, pulling out her cell phone and googles it. Knowing she's being foolish, it's like she's possessed.

It's a local domestic brand with one store because they're an up-and-coming small boutique that hand makes everything they sell. The upside is that they boast unique and one-of-a-kind items, so no two are the same, making this easier to track. Her finger hovers over the listed phone number, and she mentally pauses. Shaking from head to toe and telling herself not to do this.

Live in ignorance, don't scratch the surface. Let it go. They can go on living as they are, and that's enough... Sophia thought.