Beauty of wilted leaf

chapter 5

Amidst his laughter, the obnoxious man, towering at 6 feet tall, approached Freya further. The strong perfume hung in the air, making her uneasy. As she stumbled, attempting to move away, her weakened composure betrayed her. Chilled to the bone, she fought the urge to run away, hating herself for feeling vulnerable in the presence of someone she deemed a bastard. The complex mix of emotions played out, showcasing the internal struggle Freya faced in that tense encounter.

"Where are you going, honey?" he chuckled, seizing her hand with force. The unwarranted physical contact added a layer of discomfort to an already tense situation, leaving Freya feeling trapped and powerless in the face of his intrusive presence."William Blake, that's enough. You are crossing the line," she warned firmly, slapping away his hand. Freya's anger, long restrained, finally surfaced as she turned towards him. The use of sweet names, especially considering his illicit past relationship, was a concept she vehemently disliked. In that moment, she stood her ground, drawing a clear line and demanding respect for her boundaries.

In the dim light of the parking lot, Freya's pale face transformed into a deep shade of red, reminiscent of a blooming rose, fueled by her anger. Her nose appeared as if it might bleed with the intensity of her emotions. Trembling hands and furious golden-brown eyes bore witness to the storm within, an outward reflection of the turmoil that raged beneath the surface.

"Darling, I missed your face, especially these angry faces which make me excited," he spouted nonsense, daring to approach her once again. Aware of her weakened state, he exploited the knowledge that she was not as strong as she once was in university. He vividly remembered the night he witnessed the prideful lion crumble – the night she didn't beg him to stay, but her eyes spoke volumes of lifelessness. It was the night he was caught sharing her favorite wine with another woman, a lingering betrayal etched in Freya's memory.

"As you know, I have a weak spot for red-colored stuff," he laughed, his words loaded with a twisted sense of amusement. As Freya attempted to walk away, he forcefully dragged her. However, a strange gaze in his back caught their attention. Turning around, they both saw a tall shadow approaching. Sensing the potential for unwanted drama, Freya didn't want to get caught in this compromising situation with her once-loved husband. The pathetic guy Williams also seemed disinterested, as his current wife remained inside the wedding hall.

Williams, seeking to protect himself, suddenly pulled her hands up with force. Freya's thin hand appeared fragile under the mold force, and she squinted her eyes to conceal the pain. "Don't you understand? I don't need you at all. Stop begging and don't touch me like you used to do," he desperately raised his voice, attempting to assert his dignity. Freya, processing the situation, found herself speechless, caught in a moment that showcased the callousness of the person she once loved.

The shadowy figure approached them, revealing a man in his early 30s. With dark black hair reminiscent of the grim reaper, sharp dark eyes, and a chiseled nose and lips that complemented his perfectly sculpted face, he cut an imposing figure. Tall with a perfect physique, his neat formal outfit only added to his overall allure. However, despite his striking appearance, the expression on his face was unbearable, carrying an intensity that hinted at an underlying tension or displeasure.

"Seems like you can't change the habits of a street dog. I don't know what women see in you, a man with totally zero sense in everything," the shadowy figure retorted, casting an obnoxious look at Freya. The sharp, straight gaze sent shivers down her spine, making her feel uneasy. Caught in a situation where she didn't have any reason to explain herself to a random guy on the street, Freya struggled with the intensity of the moment.

Freya forcefully slammed his grabbed hand away and left without uttering a word. The evident disgust in her entire being, both physical and emotional, was palpable. The words of the black-haired man had intensified the unpleasant encounter. His sharp, judgmental black eyes had invoked memories of the hateful and pitiful looks Freya had faced during the challenging period of her divorce. The experience, although brief, had left an indelible mark on the fragile composure she had tried to maintain.

Freya quickly called Adoria and said, "Don't worry about me, please enjoy the night. Don't let Laura know. We can meet this Sunday at your place." Despite the unsettling encounter, Freya prioritised her friend's joyous occasion and subtly hinted at addressing the situation later, seeking solace in the upcoming Sunday meet-up."Why? Why are you leaving suddenly, and when did you leave? I didn't even notice," Adoria asked, expressing her confusion and concern about Freya's sudden departure.

"I just wanted some fresh air, but now I need to rest. Those heels have made my legs hurt," Freya explained, offering a simple and plausible reason for her sudden departure."Okay, take rest. Tomorrow, you have to go back to work. Eat something; you didn't eat anything after meeting our old friends during lunch," Adoria advised, showing concern for Freya's well-being . Freya sat in her black car, reflecting on the unsettling events that unfolded during the celebration. The desire to return to a semblance of normalcy clashed with the haunting memories of past decisions, creating a mental struggle that lingered every time she stepped out into the world.

She started her black Audi, and as the engine roared to life, the reflection of her car seemed to tell more stories than she could express. Driving straight back home, she opened the door to find her black feline friend waiting. This time, he sported a collar without a nameplate, a brown leather accessory that matched the cat's sleek appearance perfectly."Hello, buddy. Seems like someone gave you this beautiful ornament. So, you have one owner yourself. Am I just a sidekick for you too?" Freya said with a smile, yet her words carried a hint of pain. She never thought she would feel jealous over a stray cat, but now that it wasn't a stray anymore, it seemed to have found another companion.