Wrath Of A Woman

10. The Correspondence Dinner (Part Three)

People will always notice your change in attitude towards them, but they'll never notice it's their behaviour that made you change.
                   —Anonymous.

In fact, Travis should've known that his eccentric wife wouldn't let sleeping dogs lie. He had expected it even, and had imagined the various ways she would word her questions.

Almost a decade of marriage had taught him Gabe didn't let things go, and that was how he knew she wouldn't let this go either.

He didn't know how to address her question. It was obviously rhetoric and yet begged for an answer. He found himself contemplating whether or not to answer.

It was her modus operandi; whenever she went into the 'detective' mode, she'll start by proffering a few benign queries, make you feel safe.

He knew this rhetoric question was Gabe making him feel safe.

Her gaze left his, sought and held the bottle of Pinot Noir. He knew what came next. She poured herself half a glass and raised it to her lips, reestablishing eye contact.

That was her tell.

Immediately her grey clashed with his blue-green, he knew he was in her crosshairs. Her irises looked iridescent, burning with curiosity. These eyes perused and probed him like an enema in a baby's bottom.

As always, his wife was observing...planning...scheming. Her eyes indubitably felt him, looking for a weakness; a crack she will use as leverage.

Except she would find none.

She didn't speak, just continued to languidly observe him like she had all the time in the world at her disposal, and Travis also refused to back down.

They were stuck in a battle of wills where nobody's gaze vacillated. It was like a power play where the winner gained dominance over the other. It was a backwards then forwards dance; a predator and a prey, a lioness and a gazelle.

Her gaze felt suffocating, and their steel depths sucked the life out of him. He felt like a gazelle who had wandered onto the territory of a lioness, and it was only a matter of time.

It was only a matter of time before she pounced on him and devoured his muscles, crushed his bones and licked every drop of his blood.

He was subconsciously aware of the ticking of the imaginary clock. The silence was so loud, and it wielded its power and authority the way a mighty potentate commanded the subservience and respect of his subjects.

He knew he had to say something before she decided his time was up. Before she decided to investigate him, but his tongue had cleaved to the roof of his tongue.

What at all could he say?

'Oh yes I had a dinner engagement with your best friend who also happens to be my mistress.'

He could totally see how it would earn him brownie points.

It may have been only two minutes, but it felt like a lifetime. She didn't even repeat her question, but her eyes had taken on a wild and crazed look of excitement. Her gaze was predatory, and it was like she was waiting for him to commit himself. Like she was sure he would commit himself.

"Gabe my dear, you're making us all nervous with your staring contest."

Travis had to bite his tongue to crimp the plethora of expletives that filled his mouth from spewing out at Marianne.